This week, I am giving my thoughts on Tania Leon’s “entre nos.” Like last week’s piece, this one is cast as a chamber work for a percussion keyboard instrument and woodwinds (in this case, for piano, bassoon, and clarinet). Also like in previous weeks, piece uses a range of extended techniques for all instruments involved.
Again, much of my curiosity centers around the notational choices the composer makes. I observe several similar notations that I’ve discussed in other works from previous weeks, including the manner of beaming notes to indicate a quickening tremelo. I’m beginning to believe that this technique and this notation for it are becoming standard, particularly for woodwind instruments. However, in each of the pieces I’ve reviewed in recent weeks, the composers take different approaches to indicate a freely unmetered succession of notes. Leon’s accomplishes this through two tools I haven’t seen before. One is the rejection of stems in barred groups (like successive eighth-notes or sixteenth notes). The composer indicates that such notes “are to be played unevenly, with respect to rhythm” (1). Another is the use of the “0” time-signature, which the composer indicates as meaning “senza misura.”
Because of the unmetered nature of these passages, I imagine ensemble musicians must be reading from a full score so they can always concentrate on lining up their part with the others—a feat which seems rather incredible to me. As much added effort as the composer and the performers must put in to read unmetered notations such as this, I question whether such music should really be “composed” at all, or whether this style should be reserved for improvisation, where each performer generates their ideas on the spur of the moment.
Because I am rather fascinated by this piece, I feel it is inappropriate to suggest, as I have, that perhaps it should never have been notated at all. I have therefore scoured the score searching for qualities in this piece which would be rather difficult to improvise. I have considered the macro-structure, which, being through-composed, doesn’t have any major repetitions or shifts in the tonal center. I have also considered the micro-structure, which while it occasionally embraces tonal elements like arpeggiated triads, seems more informed by pan-tonal procedures. And yet, I haven’t been able to locate a complete tone-row, which would indicate a level of organization which perhaps couldn’t be easily improvised. Likewise, the piece typically lacks clear elements in the background and foreground (i.e. accompaniment and melody). To be clear, I am not criticizing the music on account of these qualities, but I continue to struggle to understand why the composer and performers went through the pains of determining every individual note beforehand when the effect of all these compositional choices is to create the sense that the piece is freely improvised. Perhaps, though, with more experimentation, a more intuitive notational system for unmetered ensemble music will emerge—a tool which will greatly expand the styles and aesthetics available to composers.
The Unquestioned Answer 
Very interesting response, Ben. I think with more experience listening to music in this vein, you’ll be able to hear the language of a piece like this a little more clearly. You’re right–there is no tone row, but there is a set of melodic and harmonic material that forms the basis for the piece as a whole. Despite the chaotic quality of much of the music, the cohesion that does exist is, I think, primarily due to the tonal palette the composer has created (as well as the rhythmic palette, which is perhaps a little easier to discern).
LikeLike