"It felt as if the whole world was on a precipice" - Aioi reviewed
The Journal of Music recently reviewed the Sonic Vigil ‘In Your Own Time and Place’ festival, including another performance by QME of Aioi: leaves laden with words with Laura Sampson.
The first piece, Aioi: leaves laden with words, composed by Anna Murray, was inspired by Noh theatre. In that tradition the pine tree has enormous symbolism – it was through that tree that Noh was passed down from heaven and the back stages of Noh theatres were adorned with a painting of a pine tree. Murray’s graphic score uses the image from the oldest Noh theatre. Each musician had a variation of that image, which, in an intriguing twist, was covered with a similar sized sheet but with a window cut out in different places, meaning each one sees only a part of the overall image.
Playing with the utmost quietness, the band created what I can only describe as a gaseous sound. Sitting out of the overall sightline of the band thanks to the curvature of the room, I, too, felt like I wasn’t taking in the full tree. Was that sound like air being slowly left out of a balloon, bass strings being rubbed, or a trombone?
But no matter! Outside, on an inclement evening, one could also hear the relentless patter of rain and the low rumble and hiss of traffic along the adjacent quays. However, to decide that the group was battling the external conditions would be a misunderstanding. No doubt Oliveros would concur.
At a certain point, the London-based Noh chant specialist Laura Sampson moved glacially into position on the stage. By this time the music, a sustained note, had achieved an otherworldly sense of drama and suspense. Dressed in the regalia, Sampson’s commanding voice alternated between sprechgesang and operatic, conveying a sense of refuge in an uncertain world. Straining to be closer to the spectacle, two audience members tip-toed across the wooden floor with such great care, as if there were dire consequences. It felt as if the whole world was on a precipice.
The tone of the music changed, becoming gruff, sinister and foreboding. An action painting in sound. The spluttering trombone brought another shading, sounding whimsical and cartoonish. And as Sampson intoned a line about being in the heart of the forest it occurred to me that the world without had melted away.
Photo: Tomasz Madajczak