Grammy-winning composer John Luther Adams has been receiving a decent
amount of exposure on CD in recent years. A brief search on our pages will
bring up a handful of titles that give an impression of where his music has
taken us in the past.
Glenn Kotche is drummer with American rock band Wilco, and it was his
initiative that set up the collaboration which resulted in
Ilimaq.
This title translates roughly from the native Alaskan Inupiaq language as
"spirit journey", and there is an elemental and other-worldly atmosphere to
this work which takes us deep into this icy dreamland. Kotche had been
following Adams's work for years and knew what he was getting into, while
the non-classical background of this performer lead Adams to state that, "in
Glenn Kotche, I've found the drummer I always imagined I could be."
This is one of those pieces which work best live, and the impression of a
'one-man percussion orchestra' is hard to glean from the CD recording alone.
The electronic effects create a dark aura of windswept vastness while the
drums build and receded in grand arcs through the opening track
Descent. This drum part is a thrumming and ritualistic beating, the
rise and fall of which becomes a static presence rather than something
conventionally musical. The electronic soundscape takes a more leading role
as the piece progresses into a second movement,
Under the Ice.
Swathes of strange elongated metallic sounds surround us, blending and
mixing into seething cymbals while surreal animal interjections inject
moments of swifter animation. Moving on in a continuous stream,
The
Sunken Gamelan introduces lower frequencies in a gong or bell-like
underpinning of the upper ranges, which continue like the sonic embodiment
of an aurora borealis. Ticking and creaking like ships' timbers
prelude the sounds of thunder and a return of the drums in
Untune the
Sky. The fast-beating ostinato of the central drum is developed with
more elaborate but at the same time more familiar drum-kit gestures, with
cymbals and layered patterns adding to the turmoil emerging from the
electronic realm. This is where we miss the live effect most, as it must
have been a spectacular experience on stage. At nearly 13 minutes of stormy
drumming and crashing it can become a bit much just listening. The final,
relatively brief section,
Ascension, is a coda in which the
electronic lines are gathered into a luminous wick that recedes into an
infinity of nothingness.
As far as sound quality goes there is nothing to beat the surround-sound
experience from the DVD audio disc. I couldn't find any technical
information on the set-up for this but it works well on standard
multi-channel equipment and the opening up of the perspective beyond
standard stereo, also offered on the DVD, is striking indeed. There are some
still images which run at the same time as the music but these can safely be
ignored. For the total immersive experience this is the way to go, though it
doesn't entirely dispel the relentless nature of the more extended sections
with all drums and cymbals going strong.
As a work of art,
Ilimaq is a piece that is attractive and
impressive. As a piece for live performance I can imagine it providing an
unforgettable experience. As a piece of
music I'm not so sure it's
100% successful, but that's more of a subjective conclusion. It sets a grand
stage and raises big expectations, but in the end nothing really happens. We
can gaze at it in awe as a sonic canvas, but colourful and even poetic
electronics swirling around a strangely amorphous drum part in the end don't
deliver something from which we emerge truly moved or transformed. I have
nothing against such magnificent and monumental sonic edifices, but
Ilimaq is a bit like an art installation through which you move at
a fixed pace; occasionally wishing you could fast-forward, just a bit .
Dominy Clements
