EA Bucket 35.

Grant Chu Covell

[November 2025.]

“Solitude Transit.” Luc FERRARI: Solitude Transit (1989-90). Transversales Disques TRS24 (1 LP, download) (www.transversales-disques.com).

“Photophonie.” Luc FERRARI: Photophonie (1989); Il était une fois (1973); Trans-Voices (1992); Tu m’écoutes (1975). Transversales Disques TRS14 (1 LP, download) (www.transversales-disques.com).

For the electroacoustic ballet score Solitude Transit (“Loneliness Transit”) Ferrari transforms cliches (train stations, suggestively sighing women, footsteps, synthesizer riffs, instruments, etc.) into poetry. Created in partnership with choreographer Anne-Marie Raynaud, three parts (“Roman de gare,” “Ligne de fuite,” “On part de chez Marie Christine”) fill an hour, although the notes imply the original ballet was near 90 minutes. Episodic and diverse, Ferrari’s technique appears effortless, but then again, the concoction wanders casually, ending far from where it started. Maybe because this is Ferrari we accept the scale and nonchalance.

“Roman de gare” (“Railway novel”) is the largest section (32 minutes), gradually introducing travel sounds, and then passing through different episodes. We hear a substantial percussive interlude (synthesized drums or amplified basketballs?) and then a contrasting flamenco bit. The second and third parts are similar: In “Ligne de fuite” (“Creepage”) insistent video game blips lead to an intertwined flute and bird which spins out before a processed instrumental section akin to the dances in Patajaslocha. “On part de chez Marie Christine” (“Leaving Marie Christine’s”) opens with instruments, progresses through a dreamy wash, then lands on a pair of melancholy lilting clarinets. An aggressive electronic interlude materializes before closing with the reed duo (not unlike the Histoire’s end).

Photophonie collects four unpublished items from Ferrari’s archives, the last three not appearing in the complete works catalog. As much as I welcome more Ferrari, something about these, especially the shorter trinkets, suggests we’re privy to unfinished business or material intentionally cast aside.

Photophonie was commissioned by Musica 89 to accompany Alain Wilaume’s 1989 photo show in Strasbourg. At just under 30 minutes, intended to loop indefinitely and not necessarily to stand alone, I consider it as a tablecloth upon which Ferrari arranges curiosities and not meant to be the centerpiece. Bits are folded into Paysage avec filles and Presque rien avec filles (or maybe it’s the other way around). Ferrari’s mannerisms are on display: Unrelated material gently looped become drones that expand and contract, women speak and whisper, heavily reverbed drum or synth riffs function as cadences.

Il était une fois (“Once upon a time”) implies a story, but this 17:16 feels like a beginning. Perhaps we visit a circus with children in tow. Trans-Voices is a quick flicker of female speech over processed percussion, commissioned for an exposition at the American Center, Paris. (Also presented in the Maison ONA series Complete Works 09, their notes are also scant for this wee track.) Tu m’ecoutes is etude-sized (under five minutes) and was created for Leica’s publicity. A man’s looped “Ecoutez moi” repeats over escalating processed sounds. (Ferrari’s website adds a question mark to the title.)

“Electroacoustic Works, Vol. I.” Gérard PAPE: Vers la lumière II (2017); Héliophonie (2006). mode 338 (1 CD) (www.moderecords.com).

Across 50 thrilling minutes, in four incrementally lengthening sections, Pape describes our sun’s history. An astrophysical congress held in Greece commissioned Héliophonie to mark the March 29, 2006, total solar eclipse. Would the attendees have listened while observing the event? Pape deftly incorporates a bushel of common sound types: noise glissandos, high and low pedals, those whirrs we associate with outer space. Are they purely electronic? Is it something mechanical or musical being manipulated in the studio? The processing contributes depth and resonance, but I sense something familiar underpinning the effort, especially as the accompanying Vers la lumière II is wholly derived from Waterphone samples. What does the sun sound like?

The transformed Waterphone at the heart of Vers la lumière II is a circular metal bowl containing water to which rods of varying lengths are attached. Bow or strike the rods and different pitches are produced, tilt the bowl and the water changes the frequencies and overtones. You’ve heard the instrument in horror movies. The work is dedicated to the late musician and composer Ana-Maria Avram (1961-2017).

Karlheinz STOCKHAUSEN: Kurzwellen (1968). C.L.S.I. Ensemble: Jacqueline Mefano (pno), Michael Kinney (synthesizer, electronics), Olga Krashenko (vla), Stefan Tiedje (Tibetan bowls, electronics), Lissa Meridan, Martin Phelps, Gerard Pape, Rodolphe Bourotte (shortwave radio, filtering, ring modulation), Paul Mefano (cond.). mode 302 (1 CD) (www.moderecords.com).

Stockhausen has rarely sounded this good, this interesting. The eight members of the C.L.S.I. (Circle for the Liberation of Sound and Image) Ensemble led by Paul Mefano supply a version of Kurzwellen which they developed and first performed in 2011. This version uses computers and multiple electronic players. In the original, Stockhausen was king of the controls. Here each player (piano, viola, synthesizer/computer, Tibetan bowls/computer) has their own electronic counterpart to adjust the radio, filtering, ring modulation, and apply other electronic effects.

Cage would have turned the radio on and accepted whatever materialized. Stockhausen wanted shortwave’s inherent diversity, and the players do not improvise: They take what they hear and imitate or modulate it according to precise instructions. The score details who may play, changing combinations every few minutes.

“Electroacoustic Works.” Iannis XENAKIS: Diamorphoses (1957); Concret PH (1958); Orient Occident (1961); Bohor (1962); Hibiki Hana-Ma (1969); Polytope de Cluny (1972); Persepolis (1972); Mycenae Alpha (1978); La Légende d’Eer (1978); Taurhiphanie (1987-88); Voyage absolu des Unari vers Andromède (1989); Gendy 3 (1991); S.709 (1992). Karlrecords KR092 (5 LPs, 5 CDs) (www.karlrecords.net).

Xenakis’ electronic compositions trace the trajectory of their creator seeking to integrate randomness or stochastic behavior into music yet contradictorily trying to program a computer to help with creation. Almost as soon as Xenakis designed an algorithm to generate his complex procedures, he moved on to new techniques and structures.

Xenakis’ electronic works are not daily staples, but they are essential and nourishing. The first efforts, Diamorphoses and Orient Occident, could be considered bland collages although they hint that Xenakis will tend towards monoliths and unpleasant timbres. But the tiny Concret PH (written for the 1958 World’s Fair as attendees were departing Varèse’s Poème èlectronique) and the larger Bohor with their ruthless preoccupations, especially the latter’s violent crescendo, suggest what might haunt the Greek refugee’s soul. Hibiki Hana-Ma continues down an uncomfortable road, mixing taped orchestra with percussion and noise before stopping abruptly.

For Polytope de Cluny there is clearly nothing of the original laser show for this recording. Likewise, the “polytope” Persepolis is just a soundtrack, no children with torches or fires burning remotely in the Iranian landscape. These longer constructions (24:51 for Polytope de Cluny, 55:12 for Persepolis) stretch time as they gradually amass and discard their material. While Persepolis is not as menacing as the persistently gritty Mycenae Alpha, it is more imposing given its scale.

At 46:12, La Légende d’Eer is another astonishing assemblage. Xenakis possessed an amazing ear for what combines: the slow-moving metallic background, the kalimba-like plunking, the tinkling glass, the static bursts, and the skittering insect-like buzzing. Xenakis builds something bigger than all of us. Astonishingly, La Légende d’Eer was once released backwards. If we weren’t on location at the premieres, we must satisfy ourselves with stereo recordings of the site-specific, multi-speaker and light show polytopes.

Skipping ahead 10 years to Taurhiphanie, the ingredients are handled differently, a return to an earlier aesthetic. Taurhiphanie was built with Xenakis’ graphical design tool, UPIC, which can convert a drawing into sound. Yes, the sources and first performance venue involved bulls. Similarly Voyage absolu des Unari vers Andromède, composed for an international exposition of paper kites in Japan, rapidly varies, less menacing than the giant polytopes.

The sour and strident Gendy 3 scrambles alarms and fog horns in an upsetting polyphony. This opus leverages a later computer program, GENDY (or GENDYN, abbreviating “general dynamic stochastic synthesis”), which generates stochastic waveforms which Xenakis then assembled for Gendy 3 and S.709. At a smidgen more than nineteen minutes, Gendy 3 is extensive enough to make us feel lost. In S.709, a fitfully changing line upstages any lasting counterpoints.

Luigi NONO: La lontananza nostalgica utopica futura (1988-89). Marco Fusi (vln), Pierluigi Billone (electronics). Kairos 0015086KAI (1 CD) (www.kairos-music.com).

Exploring a fresh release of La lontananza nostalgica utopica futura is like checking in on a distant relative. As someone who has closely examined the composition, I ask several questions: What might make this version unique? And do I hear it differently today?

What’s particularly wonderful about La lontananza is that no two performances will be the same. The effect will be familiar, but necessarily changed (And how many pieces has Kairos recorded more than once?). This incarnation is decidedly not pretty and strong on the studio noises. Nono does not ask for sweetness. No coloratura arias or virtuosic displays. The violin is asked to play high, to emit coarse sounds, to expose itself, and to be drowned by the tapes. Must La lontananza be ugly? It certainly seems that ugliness is an essential characteristic, but Fusi and Billone counter the unpleasantness with silence.

Fusi and Billone take a hard stare at artistic creation’s ephemera. Kremer and Nono’s voices are audible (after decades of listening, they’re recognizable, even if not completely comprehensible), as are the studio miscellany (pencils falling, stands dragging). (It’s still tricky to catch the passing train.)

Billone doesn’t shy from big bursts of the “multiple-Gidon” tape. Others at the mixing desk before him have tended towards subtle transitions but Billone includes abrupt dynamic shifts. And like all good performances, Fusi alternately blends and contrasts his instrument with taped Gidon. Fusi’s palette incorporates deliciously abrasive tones along with barely audible high notes. There are significant “do not adjust your set” lulls: Billone is comfortable letting the tape wither; Fusi does not feel the need to fill the gaps.

In a recording, the violinist’s wandering is not visible. I think Fusi emerges from various locations across the six sections, but it is hard to be certain. The world hasn’t caught up to La lontananza’s novelty or greatness, and we need La lontananza in multiple flavors.

“Ex Utero.” Hildegard WESTERKAMP: Breaking News (2002); Moments of Laughter (1988). Chiara Margarita COZZOLANI: Dixit dominus (ca. 1650); O praeclara dies (ca. 1648); Bone Jesu (ca. 1650); Laetatus sum (ca. 1650); Ave Maria (ca. 1648); O Jesus meus amor (ca. 1648); Laudate pueri (ca. 1650). Catherine LAMB: Pulse/Shade (2014). Michèle BOKANOWSKI: Korè (1973). The Present: Hanna Herfurtner, Olivia Stahn (sop), Bernadette Beckermann, Amélie Saadia (c-alt), Benjamin Glaubitz, Tim Karweick (ten), Florian Götz, Felix Schwandtke (bass), Lee Santana (theorbo), Juliane Laake (violone), Mira Lange (org, cemb.). col legno WWE 1CD 20458 (1 CD) (www.col-legno.com).

At first glance, including a release anchored with the Baroque choral music of Chiara Margarita Cozzolani (1602-1676?) seems out of place in this article, except that the ensemble The Present wraps the prolific Benedictine nun’s effervescent music with pieces for voices and tape.

Westerkamp creates a sonic portrait of the composer’s first grandchild in Breaking News. Voices are added to Moments of Laughter which contains the composer’s daughter at an early age, telling stories, becoming aware of recordings’ power to transform and produce memories. Lamb’s Pulse/Shade for four voices (two groups of two) aligns with minimalist processes. Sung vowels in close harmony leisurely change their rate creating interlocking patterns and chords.

There is so little Bokanowski recorded, that Korè is what made this required listening. If the Westerkamp and Cozzolani are uplifting, the Bokanowski is eerie and disturbing. Over a tolling background with slight microtonal shifts, the wordless chorus burbles, chants and moans, occasionally emitting high pitches. Towards the end, the tape momentarily shifts to percussion and shrill flutes before returning to the tolling. The majority of The Present’s recording focuses on birth and life, whereas Bokanowski’s opus considers death, Korè being the ancient Greek statues of women which served as grave markers. Quite an alternate aspect of the creator of the brilliant Cirque (1988-94).