Hello, if you liked this last time thank you. hope you find this enjoyable! i love being accompanied on this journey :)
Intro Whereas this was initially an impulsive thing, it is now a long process. Post-
Confield Autechre is something of a monolith, much like outer space is once you get past the nearest, closest-together planets. Narratives of artistic progression tend to break down; we're only left with the sounds.
Autechre's image is one of hermitism, inscrutability, and devotion to the abstraction of their artistic values. No press, weak titles, and no meta-textuality. That these releases increasingly occur in a sort of cultural vacuum is quite interesting, and in my opinion has positive and negative implications. It means that Autechre's music is thrillingly immersive - there truly is nothing on the planet that sounds like this.
As a listener, the experience is of tapping into a world that is progressive, adaptive, and unseen, but also manic and isolating. Autechre's music is thrillingly unseen, but it is also scarily unmanned. Or, to put it another way: do I love Autechre's music for what it is? Yes. Does it make me feel like I'm human, like I'm not alone, like I'm deserving of love? Hardly at all.
Because of this, I do not blame anyone who hopped off the train earlier. I genuinely don't. I don't blame anyone who listens to Autechre religiously either (I mean, look at me, look at what I'm doing and what it says about me), but I would issue a word of warning to those who are feeling lost, alone, or hopeless:
listen to Leonard Cohen instead.
Confield 2001
In many ways, this is the first album of a new millennium.
Specifically, the interactivity here suggests the presence of some form of life that... isn't... intentional. Factually, of course that's not true - we all know that Sean Booth and Rob Brown used Max/MSP to program many of the sounds on the album. But there's enough of the unknown there to plant a seed of doubt in your mind, right?
Walking around with this in my ears, I am so disconnected from what went into making this music that I tend to forget it was made at all, but instead I begin to listen to it as a spontaneously created chain of events, a piece of music with its own primitive sense of awareness.
Naturally, the opening suite of songs is where this feeling is especially unruly. "VI Scose Poise" is an introduction to the uncanny valley that this album takes as its home; you could theoretically recreate the complexities of the soft, clattering metal rhythms by hand, but you know that this wasn't by hand, that it was the result of a series of increasingly complicated rules fed into a computer.
Interesting side note, though:
Confield, while still a formidably barbarous follow-up to
LP5, still has an emotional presence, one that I would describe as despairing. "Cfern", for example, starts off super buttoned-up, with triplets of drums accompanying a chromatically descending chord progression... however, this chord progression slowly starts to reveal itself as one witness to a song that is otherwise demented, slowly losing its grasp on any sense of order or consistency. Dementia, the song, basically. It's brutal. I love the end too, where the beat basically bottoms out and finds a groove, something Autechre love to work into their songs. It works as the perfect segue into...
"Pen Expers", an epic elegy for a world on its judgement day, and clearly the intended peak of this opening salvo. The loud, slapping snare drums provide the mise en scene for me - they sound so catastrophic, like the howl of ugly, nasty winds. There's a feeling of imminent doom - not imminent like "any time now," imminent like the all-consuming fear that comes over you when you stare your death in the face. If "Cfern" was dementia, then this is war. Or maybe just hell, because during the runtime of "Pen Expers", there is no respite, not til the end. Me listening to this song:
picture The mostly pitchless mutant-electro track "Sim Gishel" makes for a welcome respite from the recent drama. "Parhelic Triangle" is a tough nut to crack, with a low-impact drum/bass loop set to churn while some cavernous chimes echo out a mysterious melody. "Bine" is really cool - clearly not much to it conceptually, which allows you to rid yourself of pretense early and sink face-first into the chaos.
Indeed, after the early onslaught of "Cfern" and "Pen Expers", any catharsis
Confield might be trying to give me seems to have been given, and I'm less interested in decoding meaning. Instead, I just enjoy the woozy bouncing of "Eidetic Casein" (another song with a descending chord progression, very tragedic), and the subterranean "Uviol", which has lots of watery bubbly sounds and a purple, nocturnal, after-hours sort of vibe. This leads into the album's final word, "Lentic Catachresis", which indecisively keeps switching tempos while doctored voice recordings and doomy synths set a dour tone. The indecision settles into stasis, as the song's parts are all slowly crumpled and swallowed by this one incessant processing tone. And that's it.
People say
Confield is a difficult album, and it is. However, I think I was surprised by why it was difficult - it's not just the increasingly fractious algorithmic soundscapes, but ALSO the subtextual themes of decay and oblivion. (At least, that's my take on it. For the sake of my own love for the album, I decided to run with it and take liberties. Please, tell me what your unique viewpoints are!)
Autechre's Book of Revelations. Also, yes, a giant step forward in a technical sense. The songs sometimes seem to be making themselves... a very unusual feeling indeed, one which I'm sure is the reason why a lot of us are fans. In a world where any song in any style is a few controlled hand movements away, this foreign feeling is sorely missed. It's nice to feel it again.
Draft 7.30 2003
Totally wild and transportative, as you might expect. Both easier and harder to like than
Confield, because it's relatively simple in comparison and doesn't seem to be too convicted about anything in particular. I'll be honest, I'm not too keen on this one - it seems like a lateral move from Confield, although the sonics are innovative as always.
Opener "Xylin Room" made a good impression on me with that massive resounding bass drum every eight beats - really cool touch. The spastic lead melody is really good too.
That hyper-compressed percussion in "6IE.CR" sounds like fried chicken. Mmm.
"V-PROC" is cool.
But the only bit on Draft 7.30 that felt adequately different - above and beyond - from other Autechre music was "Surripere", the brilliant, proggy centerpiece. More than anything, I'm intrigued by the patience of this song, the way it slowly drifts from one idea to the next. The long-resonating synthetic chords imbue the whole thing with a certain ambient color if you look at it the right way. It's the same type of alien Zen that pervades the longform worlds of NTS. And yeah, the way the song unfolds - the way the drums are left squirming, abandoned, in a void of glossy black ambience - is disquieting and truly beautiful.
Untilted 2005
Austere - minimal. Carries glimpses of the outside world, for once. There were moments while listening to this record where my head thought things like "dub techno" and "Berlin." Sometimes I even think about Aphex Twin, whose albums always give off a vibe of being so intricately, caringly constructed. That same human touch is sometimes felt while listening to Untilted.
From what I can tell, this pared-down, concept-less style indicates that the album sinks or floats on the attractiveness of its ideas at any given moment. Some are more revolutionary than others, but all ideas dispense with academics and generally aim for the gut.
"LCC" has a wonderful B-section, with a melody that comes out of nowhere and knocks you off your feet with its modesty and its grace. "Ipacial Section" is possibly even better, with a bonkers dub-gabber opening that pivots after four exhilarating minutes into a wide-open trot featuring a loose-cannon snare that echoes like artillery. Then... what the fuck happens there, about five and a half minutes in? What an audacious idea, to cut the bottom out of the song and introduce a half-time hip hop sort of rhythm. Not an uncommon thing to happen in an Autechre song, but rarely is it executed so intoxicatingly well. The final minute or so of blubbering drums is the fat at the end of the bacon - a guilty pleasure, indulgent and gross.
Little side-note: it's funny, isn't it, the idea of calling an Autechre album "minimal," like there's not much going on or something. It's a paradox - Autechre isn't minimal, but this record is minimal. This record isn't minimal, but for Autechre it is. I think that's my personal take on the title,
Untilted. It's technically Untilted... but it sure looks a lot like Untitled. It's technically Untitled... but it sure looks a lot like Untilted:
image Pro Radii is cool, but I must be missing a certain something. Please let me know.
Augmatic Disport is highly interesting, the way it slowly opens up to allow the introduction of a dub drum/bass line in the seventh minute. Will keep my eye on this one.
Iera wears its heart on its sleeve, with one of Autechre's many trademarks, the rapidly accelerating and decelerating micro-rhythm. Makes for a tune that isn't by any means revolutionary, but is still a faithful reproduction of some very innovative production ideas. One of many gnarly mid-level tunes in the group's discography.
I have to say, the second side of Untilted is quite unusual - some very interesting cuts which are perhaps some of the less typical "Autechre songs" I've heard from the group. Outliers, that is. "Fermium" is really cool, with a tinny a-section whose melody reminds me of the hollowed-out horror of Wendy Carlos' soundtrack to
A Clockwork Orange, which I saw recently. It's a really manic pick for melody from Autechre, something I could hear in a CAN album but not necessarily something I would expect from IDM's chief futurists. Then, the b-section... well, that's more like it. Like they took a CAN record and played pinball with it.
"The Trees" is middling - I can't decide whether it's a really interesting experiment, or just an unwelcome side dish. Regardless, it really reminds me of a more chaotic version of Topdown Dialectic, so if you like this track let me know what you think of
this. As for "Sublimit"... right now, I'm of the opinion that it buckles under its own weight. Each successive section is interesting, for sure, but I'm not convinced it works as an overall piece, and I'm much more a fan of the relative economy of "Ipacial Section" and "LCC". As always, please challenge me on this.
Overall, an unusual album, one that I'd classify as part of their early-Max era along with Confield and Draft 7.30. However, it's much cleaner and lightweight than either of those records, and if I had to guess I would think that it's symptomatic of a growing desire to get away from pretenses and explore the pure fabric of sounds on Booth and Brown's part.
Bonus EPs Along with Gantz Graf, I decided to go back to EP7 - I also tried out both Peel Sessions.
Peel Session 1999
Illustrative of one of my favorite things about Autechre's discography, which is that whether it's a primitive electro track in 1992 or an aleatoric behemoth in 2015, they're able to summon moments of beauty that are often just totally inexplicable given the limits of what they're working with. The first Peel Session was recorded in 1995, meaning this is around the time where Autechre had released their innovative product Electro 2.0, also known as IDM.
Opener "Milk DX" is simple but in a really cool way, thanks to the papery clatter of the hi hats, which I could either compare to a castanet or to the sound that a teacup makes when you place it down ever so carelessly. Throw in some milky smooth synth pads, and you've got yourself a trademark dreamy electro track.
I'm still not the biggest fan of Autechre's more blatant hip hop maneuvers, but I think "Inhake 2" strikes the perfect balance between '95 Warp's pristine melodies and a certain abstracted vocal rowdiness, somewhere between record-scratching and scatting, that is present here throughout. The blippy synth melody laid on top halfway through is the kill shot. A simple track, but it all connects.
"Drane", a beautiful track. One with a simple premise that, when repeated enough across ten-plus minutes, accumulates in effect until the weight of it inevitably pulls you from whatever else you're doing. The pressure this song continually creates and releases is a marvelous feeling. The key is truly the simultaneity of the creation and the release of pressure - that synth drone manages to convey pain and pleasure in equal measure.
"Drane" cements this EP's status to me as one of their great EPs - just like
Cichli Suite or
Anti, I'll remember this very rarely but always enjoy it when I do.
EP7 1999
Gave this another shot, with the benefit of Confield-given hindsight. I can see now, after subjecting myself to the conceptual slog of that brilliant album, that this EP is a valuable artefact of Autechre's early experiments with stochastic dance music, one that offers a much clearer look than the deeply depressed Confield. These are just simple bangers, and "Rpeg" is endless fun with its rub-a-dub snares and titular arpeggios - the simplest and bangeriest of them all.
Lots of novelties here too, particularly "Ccec", the closest Autechre will ever come to having a rap feature, barring what would surely be a major creative misstep in the future. "Outpt" has dusty drones set to a steady beat - naturally, it reminds me of early
Gold Panda, but less whimsical.
Hard to feel too negatively about this, though: it's obvious that they're just having fun and stretching their imagination after LP5, which I infer was a much more deliberate process.
Peel Session 2 2000
Dare I say this is just as brilliant as the first one? The switch halfway through "Gelk" is ballsy, as are the prepared-piano sounds that reverberate throughout. It mostly works. "Blifil", too, is a good-but-not-great track, a screamer throughout - a sort of stochastic, very Autechrean take on "Come To Daddy"-esque deep-fried 'ardcore breaks.
"Gaekwad" is my pick of the bunch, a definite outlier in Autechre's discography which sees them playing with the plasticky, quasi-representational sounds I most commonly associate with the synthetic melodrama of Andy Stott or Dean Blunt. (Or
this!) Super cool to see, and works really well paired with Autechre's melodic and timbral sensibilities. (Also, the closest to footwork I've heard from Autechre happens about two minutes in.)
"19 Headaches" is really cool, too - makes a lot of sense that they'd be making this around the time of Confield. Sounds like a better version of Lee Gamble's recent music - restrained craziness, audible in the jittery runs of the polite soprano synth lead and the ADHD tangents of the feather-light percussion.
A fantastic sequel to the first Peel Session - while that one was all about simplicity and poise, this one falls ever so slightly off the deep end.
Gantz Graf 2002
Was expecting something legendary in the title track - instead, I got a jumping-off point for what is certainly their best EP. Must be listened to as a whole 19-minute block.
I love how the shortness of "Gantz Graf" makes the sound of bit rot that occurs throughout feel like a pop chorus. What a switch-up, then, when the seamless transition into the longer "Dial." reveals the true hit single. One of the only Autechre tracks I'd feel comfortable playing in a DJ set, maybe next to a song from
Joe or Nina Kraviz's label трип. Love how at the end the plastic-organ-sounding synth starts to spiral upwards directly on the beat, creating the faintest opportunity for the track to suddenly sound like it's at 80 bpm instead of 160 - the type of rhythmic elasticity that just begs to be fucked around with in a set.
And then there's "Cap.IV", which takes "Dial." and molds it into something resembling a conclusion. The beat gets a lot more rubbery, some really nice BoC-esque synths come in, and there's even a hailstorm ending of noisy percussion, a cute little backdoor reference to "Gantz Graf". I love this EP. A perfect little 19-minute adventure... an ear workout, but not too heady, just tons of pure fun.
Current ranking - Confield
- LP5
- Amber
- Untilted
- Tri repetae
- Chiastic Slide
- Draft 7.30
- Incunabula
EPs - Gantz Graf
- Cichlisuite
- Peel Session
- Peel Session 2
- Garbage
- Anti
- EP7
- Anvil Vapre
- Envane
NO SPOILERS, I PROMISE I have to finally admit that I was fooling myself for the sake of convenience. I always heard filmmakers talk about the necessity of the theater experience. They cited distractedness. That's fine for me, I turn my phone off and guarantee myself free time everytime I watch a film in my room. They cited the magnificence of seeing and hearing everything in amazing quality. That's fine for me, I have good quality speakers and my monitor is very HQ. They cited the magnificence of seeing your heroes on a big screen, larger than semi-trucks. Alright, so I can't do that, but my monitor is still pretty huge. So I have that going for me.
The point is that I saw the appeal of going to a theater, but it was small compared the appeal of being able to stream movies for pocket change if I watched them often enough, the appeal of watching from my own home, the appeal of choosing the time I watch my film, the appeal of choosing the people I'm watching with.
There was a theater at my university that solved the problems of the price and the distance of going to movies, so I watched some films there. They only really showed more "hi-falutin" films like
Blue is the Warmest Color and
Io e Te. I didn't see the theater experience as being necessary then, so that further solidified my opinion that these directors were just lovingly looking back on their child-hood memories of Gregory Peck's towering face in
Duel in the Sun or
Star Wars's opening crawl, and overemphasizing the importance of that theater experience. Some more recent films have been given the same treatment, such as
Avatar or
Gravity.
Well then I decided to end my hiatus from dating after a nasty breakup and a hurt and mistrustful heart. But sorry ladies of TrueFilm, very soon after my heart mended, I got a girlfriend. Well, when you get a girlfriend, you gotta get a bus pass to see her. So my radius of acceptable travel opened up anyway, and in this damned city, the only fun thing to do on a night out, sober, is see a movie.
My first theater experiences with Sarah came. First
Snowpiercer. Then
Boyhood and
Guardians of the Galaxy. My world remained unshaken after each of these. But then my she and I decided to see
Gone Girl. She had never seen a Fincher film and I had never seen Ben Affleck's penis, so it looked like a night of adventure for us both. Little did I know that I'd have my opinions challenged that night.
Gone Girl was a wonderful film, up there with
Zodiac as one of Fincher's best works. I'm sure I would have come to that same conclusion if I had watched it in my room, alone... but a new element was introduced to me that night. We all know and joke about the contagiousness of yawning in groups of people who aren't even tired. We know of how panic can spread in crowds even when there's nothing to be scared of. It turns out there is something equally contagious: nervous laughter.
There were funny moments in
Gone Girl. I'm sure I would have laughed at those even if I had watched the film in my room; maybe I would have even groaned happily at the corny "that's marriage" line. But when we 100+ strangers were watching some of the completely serious and, for lack of a better word, "fucked up" scenes of the movie, we all did something I didn't expect: we laughed. Not only did I not expect it, for a FACT I know I wouldn't have felt that same thing in the theaters. And we didn't laugh because anything was funny, or because the movie was bad and we were mocking it. We all laughed nervously, like scared cavemen letting everyone else know not to worry about the saber toothed tiger.
I took an uneasy feeling home that night and I've been considering it on and off. Tonight I finally watched
Nightcrawler and the same thing happened. Yeah, Jakey said some funny lines, but there we all were, laughing at some of the most horrible shit imaginable. This laughing, it was something I specifically could not get without the theater experience. There it was: an emotional and artistic quality of this film that I could have potentially missed out on. I let out an exasperated sigh before writing this. "Sigh. I guess they were right. The theater experience can make a difference."
When Scorsese sheds a soulful tear thinking about his connection to the big screen, and when
Star Wars nerds kissed the ground in front of the
Phantom Menace, I knew those were just special examples. But this nervous laughter was something that would've changed it for everyone.
I think this disappoints me because there's no such thing as
rubato in film. There is a little bit of lee-way here or there, but it's pretty obvious that there's no way that a film can allow for alteration of the experience during a performance and have that alteration be just as much a part of the artform, in context. A musician may hold a note for longer, a stage actor may change his inflection for a certain line, a video game level may be experienced in totally different ways by completionists versus speed-runners. And all those differences in experience would be a part of the artform itself.
In the 20th century, the world of art music had a bit of inner debate about a subject similar to this: aleatoric music vs. total serialism. Aleatoric music, or
chance music, allows, encourages, and explores the implications of the indeterminate aspects of a performance of music. A great example of this is John Cage's
"Imaginary Landscape No. 4", which was a piece of music where the only instruments were radios instructed to change to certain frequencies at a certain time. Chance music accepted the factors that affect differences between performances as part of the art itself. While total serialism is a very hard thing to explain, all you need to know is that it was formed as a sort of dogmatic idealogy from a group of musicians who attended
The Darmstadt School at some point, and its many composition properties led to a style of composition that exerted total control over every aspect of music. Every note had to played at a certain volume, for a certain length, with a certain articulation. There was no room for change.
FIlms to me always seemed to me something that could not be aleatory, by their very nature. Sure maybe Andy Warhol did something or another... I guess... look I don't really wanna know more about Andy Warhol, but pretty much everyone has a conception of film as having its artistic qualities completely predetermined. Some directors like Kubrick, Lynch, and Tarantino would actually
make sure theaters used projectors and speaker systems to
THEIR specifications. And considering the nature of film, they had a point.
Unlike chance music, unlike video games, and unlike stage plays, I don't feel that the external factors that affect my experience with film are "elements" of the artform itself. It's just not what film is.
I've always known this about film. It disappointed me that the only time I've watched
Nosferatu, I watched it with such bad music that I couldn't enjoy the experience. Or, a better example:
When I first watched
Pulp Fiction, I was a kid, and the movie was on a damaged VHS tape. Now, I immediately recognized the interesting narrative and the skillfully crafted dialogue of the film, but it wasn't until revisiting the film later- as an adult, in undamaged HD quality- that I realized the quality and craft of the imaged as well. Can you imagine? I actually went my entire childhood and adolescence thinking of
Pulp Fiction as the film with "a great narrative, but 'meh' visuals", obviously unaware of the film's extraordinary visuals. This failure in artistic communication was certainly not Tarantino's fault, any more than it was Philip Pullman's fault that my school library only carried a damaged, stained, and muddy copy of
His Dark Materials. The differences in my experiences in both cases are just not elements of that artform.
That's how, when I conceded tonight that I could have been missing something from
Gone Girl or
Nightcrawler, I came to a depressing realization. It wasn't just a few isolated examples of movies seen wrong... I may have been seeing some movies wrong my entire life. Sure, not all films would be that affected by the experience. Films not particularly intended for the theater experience, like films with DVD sales in mind or films made for TV, are obviously unaffected. Also, certain films just don't have qualities where theaters are that necessary. I just saw
Io e Te in a theater surrounded by strangers; I doubt my experience would've been much different if I saw it at home alone.
But what about that nervous laughter from
Gone Girl and
Nightcrawler? What films could have elicited things like that, films where the "more correct" way to view them was surrounded by strangers to play your emotions off of? It hit me:
Psycho. Sure, I've always thought the film was pretty well made, even interesting... I guess. I even mentally noted to myself, "boy oh boy, this Bates guy sure is creepy." But how much of that film was I missing by seeing it at home alone, with no nervous laughter to overwhelm me like a yawn, none of those biological, psychological, primal elements that were just as much a part of Hitchcock's design of the film as Herman's score or the legendary
iris shot? And yet I always thought the film was "pretty good" and maybe a little overrated.
Shit, I could have watched
Pyscho in a better way. How many films could I have watched in that better way? How many films will I not watch in that better way from now on? It's not like I can watch every film like that. Not every film is available to play in theaters. I don't have enough money. I don't have enough energy. I don't have enough time goddamnit, I have a girlfriend.
So unlike attending a Black Keys concert, unlike sitting through a high-school performance of
Death of a Salesman, and unlike playing GTA V, sometimes the responsibility lays with me if I'm not grabbed by a film. And- because I now admit that the theater experience is indeed a factor of this responsibility- I am a bit bummed.
Shit, I shoulda stayed single.
submitted by Aleatoric music (also aleatory music or chance music; from the Latin word alea, meaning "dice") is music in which some element of the composition is left to chance, and/or some primary element of a composed work's realization is left to the determination of its perform. Thanks. Useless. tayis. Aleatoric music. Aleatoric music (also aleatory music or chance music; from the Latin word alea, meaning “dice”) is music in which some element of the composition is left to chance, and/or some primary element of a composed work’s realization is left to the determination of its performer(s). Aleatoric music (also aleatory music or chance music; from the Latin word alea, meaning "dice") is music in which some element of the composition is left to chance, and/or some primary element of a composed work's realization is left to the determination of its performer (s). Aleatoric music (also aleatory music or chance music; from the Latin word alea, meaning "dice") is music in which some element of the composition is left to chance, and/or some primary element of a composed work's realization is left to the determination of its performer(s). Aleatory music, also called chance music, (aleatory from Latin alea, “dice”), 20th-century music in which chance or indeterminate elements are left for the performer to realize. The term is a loose one, describing compositions with strictly demarcated areas for improvisation according to specific directions and also unstructured pieces consisting of vague directives, such as “Play for five minutes.” Start studying Aleatoric. Learn vocabulary, terms, and more with flashcards, games, and other study tools. Introduction. Aleatoric music (also aleatory music or chance music; from the Latin word alea, meaning “dice”) is music in which some element of the composition is left to chance, and/or some primary element of a composed work’s realization is left to the determination of its performer (s). Rate Your Music is an online community of people who love music. Catalog, rate, tag, and review your music. List and review the concerts you've attended, and track upcoming shows. When you rate your music, the site's music/social recommender can recommend similar music and users with similar music taste. also called "aleatoric music", chance or indeterminate elements are left for the performer to realize - Mozart, Cage art songs poems set to music - romantic/schubert Aleatoric music, also known as aleatory music, is music with a random element. Chance elements within a piece can be used for composition, as well as for live performance. When a piece is being composed, random elements can be used to influence the outcome of a final musical piece.
He also studied Carnatic vocal music with V. Lakshminarayana Iyer in Madras and then on to Burma, Thailand and Indonesia where he studied shadow theatre. He studied South Asian music with Pandit ... Consciously yet unconsciously, attentively yet spontaneously, the musicians are to follow a definite protocol, while also being given the liberty to improvise, resulting Aleatoric music, or what ... Musique Concrete is the experimental technique of musical composition using recorded sounds as raw material. The principle uses the assemblage of various nat... Skip navigation Sign in. Search The Best Compilation of relaxing middle ages / medieval music for full 10 hours!Music by Kevin Macleod and Adrian von Ziegler .Spotify: https://open.spotify.... by John Cage -for percussion/speech quartet- MM Percussion Recital, March 24 2013, The Boston Conservatory Living Room Music is a theatrical percussion piece composed by John Cage in 1940. It is a ... There is also a strong connection between music and mathematics.[2] Music may be played and heard live, may be part of a dramatic work or film, or may be recorded. To many people in many cultures ... Eugeniusz Rudnick (*1933): Dixi, per nastro magnetico (1967). Realized in the Experimental Studio of the Polish Radio, Warsaw. Cover image: painting by Gerhard Richter. The material used for this ... In 1975, the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris acquired a unique and unusual copy of the first edition of the Goldberg Variations (BWV 998) of Johann Sebastian Bach. Published in 1742 as the fourth ... Krenek's Zeit-Lieder op. 215 for mezzo-soprano and string quartet were composed in October 1972. On one hand they demonstrate twelve-tone, rotational rows wi...
