New@Night: Andy Akiho “Seven Pillars” with Sandbox Percussion

A “lush, brooding celebration of noise” (The New York Times), Seven Pillars was nominated for two Grammy Awards and the Pulitzer Prize in Music this year! Portland-based composer Andy Akiho and Sandbox Percussion join forces for this mesmerizing fusion of sound, light, and movement.

The commission of Seven Pillars has been made possible by the Chamber Music America Classical Commissioning Program, with generous funding provided by The Andrew W. Mellon Foundation and the Chamber Music America Endowment Fund, and also by the Barlow Endowment for Music Composition at Brigham Young University.

Sponsors: Karen & Cliff Deveney

COME EARLY to socialize!

Alberta Rose Theatre
Tuesday, 7/19 • 8:00 pm PT

Program

Click on any piece of music below to learn more about it.

ANDY AKIHO “Seven Pillars”

ANDY AKIHO Seven Pillars (85’)
(b. 1979)

  I. Pillar I
  II. Amethyst
  III. Pillar II
  IV. Pillar III
  V. Spiel
  VI. Pillar IV
  VII. mARImbA
  VIII. Pillar V
  VIX. Pillar VI
  X. carTogRAPh
  XI. Pillar VII

Sandbox Percussion
  Ian Rosenbaum, percussion
  Terry Sweeney, percussion
  Jonny Allen, percussion
  Victor Caccese, percussion

Michael Joseph McQuilken, stage and lighting designer

Seven Pillars by Andy Akiho explores the free spaces created within an organized structure. This evening-length work, comprising seven quartets and four solos, began with its central movement, Pillar IV. Originally commissioned as a stand-alone work, this piece contained a rigorous structure and motivic content that Akiho felt compelled to expand beyond its 10-minute capsule. Pillar IV became the nucleus for Seven Pillars, containing the DNA from which the other six quartets are built.

The macro-structure of Seven Pillars is made up of two simultaneous processes. The first is an additive process where each movement introduces a new instrument that is then incorporated into the subsequent pillars. To balance this expansion, there is a symmetrical structure on either side of the central movement, Pillar IV.

The reflecting movements — Pillars I & VII, Pillars II & VI, Pillars III & V—share formal elements, motives, pitch sets, and other musical elements, but Akiho is the first to say that this is not the point of Seven Pillars. Rather, this structure creates space that can be populated with emotion and imagination. Even the reflecting movements are occupied by wildly different aesthetics despite sharing an underlying logic. While still observing the macro-structure, these free spaces are first seen in the solo movements. The solos have a more improvisatory form, elaborating on the pillars, going off on tangents, or transporting us to somewhere else entirely. They are the skin to the pillars’ bones, but, as we zoom in further, this soft tissue permeates every moment of this meticulously crafted work.

Pillar I unapologetically throws us into the world of Seven Pillars. The building blocks of the piece are flying around like shrapnel, colliding and combining with each other to eventually congeal into a cohesive whole. The timbral color of this movement is equally elemental, offering the starkest palate of unpitched, articulate, and raw sounds.

The first solo, Amethyst, is scored for vibraphone, and it transports us away from the cacophony of Pillar I into the colorful, dreamlike world of pitch and brightness. Beginning with lyricism and subtlety, Amethyst eventually works itself into a frenzy. In the aftermath of this turmoil, the movement floats away into the cosmos of Pillar II.

Pillar II is an otherworldly experience generated from Akiho’s reimagining of what the vibraphone and crotales can be. It begins with glowing, amorphous sounds. The resolution on these sounds is made finer and finer as the piece progresses, until they become sharply defined. The glowing waves of light at the start of the piece become sparkling photons of light at the finish.

Pillar III brings us back to earth with its firm rhythmic underpinning. Interlocking figures dance around each other and then snap into unison. We are treated to Akiho’s version of a backbeat—in 13 beats rather than in 4—which is layered with complex variations that culminate into a fire-alarm of sound. As with Amethyst, this irreconcilable tumult collapses into a sedated coda, recuperating from the previous blows.

The second solo, Spiel, introduces the glockenspiel, but not as it’s ever been heard before. This glockenspiel kicks down the door and delivers a relentless message, dazzling with its speed and agility. Eventually it disappears into thin air as if nothing had happened.

The stage is now set for the nucleus of the whole piece, Pillar IV. Every theme presented thus far is here, tightly woven into an impenetrable lattice structure. No event is out of place, this movement is the gears of the clock. Even in its moments of ambiguity, Pillar IV has a straight-faced determination that is unflappable.

mARImbA, the third solo of Seven Pillars, introduces the marimba to our sound palette. It begins starkly, with a single bowed pitch that looks back to the sounds that began Pillar II. This gives way to a distant chorale - soft, deep, rolled marimba chords interrupted by a distant vibraphone melody. The piece ends with an aria. This improvisatory and melodic section jumps back and forth from the very bottom to the very top of the marimba, pushing and pulling as it fades away into a distant memory.

Pillar V is a sadistic game. The marimba is now an integral part of the sound world with its rich depth, and the piece has also begun retracing its steps by reflecting the forms of previous movements. In Pillar V we hear the same hexatonic scale that we heard in Pillar III, but now it is used as the foundation for a bass line ostinato. With each repetition, this piece swells like a festering wound, and where Amethyst and Pillar III left off in their self-devouring crescendos, Pillar V continues. A singular build which lasts the latter two-thirds of the movement presses forward relentlessly. Pillar V ends with a manic, obsessive, accelerating repetition of its six pitches.

Pillar VI is the delirious fever-dream following Pillar V. A motif like the twitchy ticking of a clock in the high marimba is battled by unsettled unison gestures. These finally give way to a weightless feeling in the middle of the movement. The final section of Pillar VI is profound in its unique simplicity within the context of Seven Pillars. Unison repeated pulses anchor a high marimba descant that reaches and grasps for unattainable heights. These pulses fade away and so too does the desperate melody.

The fourth and final solo, carTogRAPh, is also the penultimate movement in Seven Pillars. Scored for a multi-percussion setup (a ‘trap’ set) consisting of a variety of pitched and unpitched sounds, carTogRAPh is a virtuosic display of rhythmic complexity and agility. The work is extroverted and exuberant, oftentimes sounding as if it could take the place of the drum solo in a rock concert. At the moment the listener feels like they could tap their foot or predict what comes next, the music shifts beneath their feet. Titled accordingly, carTogRAPh requires the performer to navigate a highly detailed map of musical twists and turns in this exhilarating demonstration of dexterity.

Pillar VII is full of nostalgia. This is thanks in part to the simple three-note melody that permeates the whole movement, as well as the familiar themes that are recapitulated within this movement. Formally, Pillar VII is nearly a carbon copy of Pillar I, but rather than stark unpitched sounds, Pillar VII is populated with all the vivid colors that have been discovered throughout the piece. By now, we’ve come to expect the gradual build that has propelled so many of the previous movement forward, but Pillar VII finds its own way to deliver on this front. Rather than breaking itself under the duress and intensity, Pillar VII transcends itself. Notes that were dizzyingly fast now seem comforting, and with each successive layer we gain confidence, not concern. This movement, and the entire Seven Pillars, finishes with the performers executing over five thousand notes in the final three minutes alone. It’s like taking off in a rocket, and we all are passengers.

© Jonny Allen

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