New Music

New Music is not a very helpful term, encompassing as it does everything from the formless radio squawks of John Cage to the new classic twelve-tone row introduced by the late Arnold Sohoenberg. Last night's concert of New Music was the work of five young European composers whose music, not unexpectedly, conforms to neither of the two extremes. The pieces presented were variously scored for voice, piano, flute, harp, stereo tape and a truly staggering assortment of percussion instruments which included both Chinese blocks and Victorian stained glass. The music and the instruments were often difficult to listen to, and just as often intriguingly interesting.

Two of the most imaginative and most pleasing works were by the two Italian composers represented on the program, Silvano Busoti and Luciano Berio. Berio, who is a former student of Luigi Dallapicoola, is particularly concerned with the musical possibilities of the spoken word. His Circles is based on three poems by E. E. Cummings, all three of which (and especially the last--"n (o) w the how dis(appeared cleverly) world...") are admirably suited to his purpose. Everything in the piece serves to emphasize the voice--the stylized movements of the singer, Miss Cathy Berberian who dashes through the musicians like a demented Medea; the very sounds of the instruments themselves, sounds which extend and provoke the half-chanted, half-sung utterances of Miss Berberian.

Busoti's work is also written for the voice. Miss Berberian is here required to hum, chant and rasp in at least five different languages (she concludes by moaning "Mush, straight ahead, mush") both at the audience and into the occasionally accompanying grand piano. Miss Berberian has one of the few voices I have ever heard that is equal to such a task. Her superb control and truly magnificent versatility enabled her to present a most triumphant reading of this unusually demanding work.

The other composers whose New Music was performed included the German, Karlheinz Stockhausen, whose recent Zyklus for one percussionist appeared on the first half of the program. Designed to combine "the elements of free and determinate performances," Stock-hausen has given his instrumentalist sixteen pages of music which he may play in any order he chooses. Not having heard the work before, I found it difficult to determine whether the choice of the percussionist, Alain Jacquet, was a felicitous one. Zyklus was followed by Bruno Moderna's Musica su duo dimenzione, a dialogue for flute and stereo tape. The tape inedium offers the composer a chance to shape his sound as he proceeds, and Mr. Moderna's final decisions are quite obviously the result of considerable experimentation. The program opened with the World Premiere of the Bulgarian composer Andre Boucourechliev's Concertants for piano, harp, flute and every percussion instrument on the stage except the Victorian stained glass.

An intriguing program, and also a very successful one. A large audience greeted the music with generous applause, and swarmed up onto the Paine Hall stage afterwards to peer at the score or to interview the musicians in broken French. Exposure to New Music of this sort is often as exciting as it is exasperating.