Giacinto Scelsi - "Uaxuctum" (POL, 1987 Modern Orchestral)

[TithonusSyndrome]

Giacinto Scelsi - Uaxuctum

For fans of - Krzysztof Penderecki, Morton Feldman, Lustmord

Take a twelve-man chorus, six double basses, four solo vocalists, ondes martenot, sistrum, vibraphone, Eb clarinet, Bb clarinet, bass clarinet, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, bass tuba, double bass tuba, six double basses, timpani and a seven-man percussion set that consists of, among other things, an oil drum and a strip of aluminum thundersheet, and ask just about any other composer to write a career-defining piece with that. I think it'd be fair to say that most of the time, the results would range from meandering to asinine to downright cruel, but this is precisely the arrangement that Giacinto Scelsi has made one of his most noted musical statements with. So much about the entire piece seems like it would be mind-bendingly difficult to try and express in notation, which Scelsi never even attempted. Much more was left to the performers' individual interpretation than normal, such was his focus on the primal energy of improvisation, and it is more than I would care to try and understand, or for that matter reliably could with my musical knowledge, but this piece is one of a kind. It has the power to leave you in trembling awe each and every time, to overwhelm any interest you could possibly have in scholarly analysis and simply compel you to listen, perplexed, at how unearthly and amorphous it is. In that sense, maybe it is better to try and discuss it in broader, general terms, and acknowledge the raw emotional appeal I feel it can have outside of the rigor of the conservatory.

A little obligatory background is probably in order - Scelsi was an Italian count born in 1905, who as legend has it, was the first Italian disciple of Schoenburg in Vienna. True or not, it isn't really evident in his music, which has far, far more emphasis on texture and atmosphere than any Schoenburg that comes to mind, and definitely no real traces of serialism. He got through WWII okay without collaborating with the Bad Guys, kept focusing on his music, got overlooked for a few decades until the New Viennese thing lost it's monopoly and everyone who heard about him decided that he was the shit - the usual, but even with a good sell like that, I'd still wager Scelsi doesn't have the name-brand recognition of even someone like Penderecki or Feldman, who themselves are really only common names in contemporary composer circles but may owe more to Scelsi than first appearances would suggest. At any rate, it took nearly 21 years for Uaxuctum to go from paper to performance, by which time Scelsi was well older than 80 and not far from death, barely able to enjoy his long-delayed acclaim. It was this piece's debut performance that introduced me to Scelsi about five years ago, recorded in 1987 by the Radio-Television Orchestra and Choir of Krakow as conducted by Jurg Wyttenbach, which I'm pretty sure is still the gold standard for this piece to this day - so much so that the friend who had bought the original pressing of the CD had paid upwards of $80 CDN for it. I guess it's good to have friends with taste.

After all the pitching, I guess I'd better really start selling this CD, though. The first track, Uaxuctum I, starts simply enough with a lot of spacious and airy choral work, very soft and not precisely foreboding but nor relaxing, especially not when the double bass and brass enters. It's critical to point out how the power of this introductory phrase may fail to take hold of a modern listener immediately; in the two and a half or so decades since the piece's debut, these kinds of brooding, atmospheric passages have been cranked out ad nauseum by musicians abusing some of the more elementary applications of electronic music. This isn't to say that everyone making electronic music like this are a bunch of hacks, far from it, but the level of access to this equipment makes Sturgeon's Law much more difficult to circumvent, and if you're listening to this piece like you really ought to, you'll notice the sheer level of detail that went into arranging and executing this atmosphere properly with only traditional means - your personal take on the ondes martenot notwithstanding. The undulating rhythms that start at 1:12 or so are difficult to place for key or scale, so don't bother - they're microtonal, but not in the spastic, unabashed way that a Harry Partch might arrive both guns blazing to announce them with. In spite of this (or possibly because of it) the brevity of more familiar diatonic phrases that flit in and barely linger leave unmistakable impressions, like false promises of relief from the sheer unnerving strangeness of it all before the choir at 1:52 strikes some horrific microchord that shivers through neighboring tones and careens wildly about before the brass and percussion. It seems neither completely dissonant, nor wholly consonant either; it is the longest portion of Uaxuctum, and if you can provide it your undivided attention for six and a half minutes, I guarantee you will be personally compelled to listen to the rest yourself. To that end, I will only describe the rest in brief.

Uaxuctum II begins with what almost seems like a waltz feel, maybe even distantly pastoral in a way, before the ebb and flow of the chorus kicks the tempo into some bizarre polyrhythm that itself dies into more subtle, eerie breathing from the choir. These light choral touches are ever present throughout this album, ensuring a sense of claustraphobia and discomfort that every other movement builds from. Uaxuctum III is the only piece that begins with absolutely no choral work whatsoever, and spends much less time introducing the percussion than previous pieces, though it is not quite as explosive this time. The brass and clarinets lurch forward out of silence at first just barely, then more forcefully each time until the choir finally reintroduces itself with more of those misleading snippets of unsettling consonance. Uaxuctum IV returns to the choir for introduction, the ordes martenot and clarinets eerily hovering behind them until the brass takes command once more. It's on this song that the tubular bells are tasked with their largest role to date in keeping a steady, eerie rhythm behind the rest of the piece, moving like a ghostly train emerging from some dismal fog. Finally, by Uaxuctum V, the choir sounds almost weary at the start, as though they have been as taxed as the listener by this point and are on the verge of sobbing before the horns descend to silence them. They are not silenced for long, however, and the sorrow builds by 2:09, all while momentary glimpses of uplifting melodies still taunt the listener with the promise of resolution that is spoiled each and every time, the wailing carrying off into the final statement of the album at 2:54.

If you made it this far, congratulations - you're probably a nervous wreck in a way you never thought an album could make you, and in a way no horror movie has even come close to doing. So just what was all that emotional pummeling about, anyways? Well, the titular Uaxuctum was a Mayan city that was willfully abandoned around the 10th century AD, or so it was according to Scelsi, but he'd be the first to say that the background or direct inspiration for the piece isn't really that meaningful. A lot of musicians are on record as saying that their music just "comes to them", as though they themselves were merely conduits for some blueprint or musical property of nature that they merely observed, rather than wrote themselves, or "came from them". Scelsi felt very strongly that this was his role in the composition of his music, something I empathize with deeply and admire in his work ethic. I really did try to cover everything that I think makes this album so memorable, and in the effort I know I overlooked countless details, but again, I absolutely feel that there's no way to listen attentively to this album and not be overwhelmed by it, which is the only way it ought to be heard.

Make sure your headphones are decent and you've got 20 minutes or so to spare without interruption, because this is absolutely a must-hear, and hopefully one day I'll have a copy of my own to do it properly.



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