Frank Rothkamm is an unusual and interesting figure by all accounts. 
                He trained as an actor, has studied bionics and been a computer 
                programme creator and website builder, as well as having a vibrant 
                creative life making music in a variety of forms. Flux Records 
                is Rothkamm’s own label, on which he has produced a number of 
                albums. Opus Spongebobicum is the latest of these, having 
                the subtitle ‘40 variations on the Secret Formula from Spongebob 
                Squarepants’.
                For those of you 
                  without children, I can tell you that Spongebob Squarepants 
                  is an improbable cartoon character who lives in a pineapple 
                  under the tropical sea, working as a humble but uniquely talented 
                  ‘krab-burger’ chef. Having grown up with those excellent Fred 
                  Quimby produced Tom & Jerry cartoons, and the dry wit and 
                  slower pace of other work such as ‘Top Cat’, Spongebob Squarepants 
                  initially drove me up the wall with its manic childishness. 
                  The creator Stephen Hillenburg is no fool however, and once 
                  one has become acquainted with the characters and the surreal 
                  nature of the cartoon, there is in fact much quite sophisticated 
                  humour to be enjoyed. The title music on which much of Opus 
                  Spongebobicum is based is a deliberately banal sea shanty 
                  with a good deal less musical development potential than Diabelli’s 
                  ‘cobbler’s patch’, the Beethoven variations which are referred 
                  to in the booklet notes. Rothkamm writes that “Opus Spongebobicum 
                  continues the noble tradition of piano music as a form of sitting 
                  contemplation, or Zazen, full of emotional ritardando, 
                  aimless wanderings, unpredictable dynamics ...”.
                This is one of a 
                  number of problems I have with this piece. The limited potential 
                  of the Spongebob theme is, as already mentioned, deliberately 
                  banal in its frothy bounciness and incurable, almost aggressive 
                  optimism. Creating 37 minutes worth of ‘aimless wanderings’ 
                  on such a theme seems to me a rather futile exercise, unless 
                  there is some kind of additional point one is attempting to 
                  make – either in a humoristic sense, or with at least a hint 
                  of irony. The only really ironic aspect of this work is, as 
                  far as I can hear, the title, which pokes directly at Sorabji’s 
                  remarkable Opus Clavicembalisticum, a piece on an entirely 
                  different scale and plane. I find Opus Spongebobicum almost 
                  as hard to take as Sorabji’s Opus, despite its comparatively 
                  brief duration.
                This is piano solo 
                  music, but created entirely in the digital domain. The piano 
                  sound is acceptable, if rather electronic sounding if you are 
                  used to real piano sound. While the sonic quality is fairly 
                  good there is a distinctly narrow soundstage which gives an 
                  impression more of mono than stereo. This is a weakness which 
                  I feel could probably quite easily have been remedied in a final 
                  mix. Rothkamm writes at some length about the background, theory, 
                  and content of the piece, but as with the music it is hard to 
                  decide whether the composer is hoodwinking us with an intellectual 
                  smokescreen for pretentious nonsense, or providing serious commentary 
                  for a painstakingly prepared and deeply felt expressive vehicle 
                  for his creative art. One of the comments he makes on his own 
                  website makes me suspicious: “Originally each variation was 
                  conceived to be 33 minutes long and there were to be 32 of them 
                  (just like Beethoven’s Diabelli variations), but after recording 
                  20 of these half hour variations, I changed my mind; each variation 
                  was to be 1 minute long.” In other words he’d already given 
                  up on and ditched 11 hours worth of music from a piece which 
                  would have been over 17 hours long, and what we get is a minimal 
                  compromise, or an intensely compact masterpiece in dubio 
                  – unless of course he’s having a joke at our expense with that 
                  original proposal, which I also suspect.
                I note that the 
                  Nickelodeon trademark character Spongebob Squarepants appears 
                  nowhere on the design for this release, probably due to copyright, 
                  and possibly because the company would have nothing whatsoever 
                  to do with this project. Either way, it’s a blessing in disguise, 
                  since anyone buying such an item expecting a fun time with one 
                  of their favourite TV themes would be in for a surprise, and 
                  most likely a severe disappointment. This is ‘heavy going’ in 
                  the Lisztian, Sorabjian sense of the phrase, and I can’t imagine 
                  it going down a storm with many people. Had I seriously embarked 
                  on such a project myself I think I would have been tempted to 
                  delve a little deeper – utilising some of the intriguing possibilities 
                  offered by, for instance, Squidward’s clarinet playing, Spongebob’s 
                  foghorn alarm clock, that marvellous intermezzo music or some 
                  of the bizarre songs which crop up during the series, most of 
                  which share a similar inane quality with the main theme, but 
                  possess a compulsive character due to an inbuilt ironic self-awareness. 
                  I think the final track, the 40th variation which 
                  just has the sound of a needle ticking repetitively on a virtual 
                  vinyl LP, tells us all we need to know: plenty of stylish pretension, 
                  very little genuine substance. I admire Rothkamm’s brass neck 
                  and apparent hard-work ethic, but if this is a joke I don’t 
                  get it, and if anyone considers this a work of genius then they 
                  are very silly indeed.
                Dominy Clements