PureGin.org

Terry Riley is an inventor - someone whose gifts have their origin in an extraordinary imagination. Ask a musician familiar with 20th century music about him, and you'll hear the response 'In C' - Riley's 1964 work which, according to those who follow such things, launched the 'Minimalist' movement associated with such names as Philip Glass and Steve Reich. This is a work of wonderful imagination - it is scored for 'any instruments', though as the title suggests, the work is still grounded in the tonal framework of western music. The piece begins with a 'pulse' - middle C, IIRC, played in steady repeated quarter notes throughout the piece. Beyond this, there is a fixed set of phrases or motifs, which each performer of the ensemble, independently, is to play, with any number of repetitions, but in strict sequence (i.e, no going back to motif 3 once you've started with number 4). When each motif is introduced is entirely up to the performer. The piece is over when every performer has fininshed playing all of the motifs. The result is a perfect example of emergence - an incredibly simple set of rules leads to a very rich and structured outcome. It's incredibly elegant, and I think, beautiful, mesmerising, and strangely warm and inviting.

Being recognized for a single remarkable achievement would be enough for some, but Riley seems nothing if not prolific, to judge by his list of works. His imagination seems terrifically broad as well as deep - picking any six of his compositions at random might lead one to identify six distinct composers. From the 1960's classical avant garde, to his compositions for specially modified and tuned electric organ and tape-loops (still in the 60's, and likely to be identified as 21st century by someone not in the know) to his quartet cycles for the Kronos quartet, to his instrumental and vocal compositions based on his many decades of study in the Indian Classical tradition, he defies expectation.

Michael McClure is one of those names that has a high familiarity factor, even if you aren't a fan of poetry. But the chances are, you're likely read or heard his poems in high school or university English classes. He was associated with Jack Kerouac, Allan Ginsburg, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, and others who apparently so shocked the establishment that they were banned, in an era when 'the establishment' actually read and considered the printed word and the spoken word capable of acts of power. The legend is that McClure was the original inspiration for Jim Morrison, notorious singer and lyricist for the Doors. And apparently, Francis Crick (recipient of the Nobel prize for his role in the discovery of DNA) was a big fan.

Now I can't say that I'm a follower of Terry Riley, but an accidental encounter years ago with a few of his earlier works earned him a special place in my heart, and the little I knew of his work and career inspired a certain amount of awe and respect. I didn't expect I'd ever hear him perform live. But last week, while visiting a client downtown, I chanced to see a poster advertising a performance with Michael McClure, and I felt my heart leap up at the chance to hear them.

I had no idea what to expect. The performance opened with a piano and vocal performance by Riley, (based on a Raga whose name flowed into and out of my unprepared mind like water). Interesting to hear the piano in this context - it's not an instrument I'd associate with Indian classical music, because it's so constrained to western tunings. I'd heard so little of Riley's music that I had no idea that he sang, but this he did, with a rich and strong voice that seemed very at home with the microtonal melodies he invoked.

The word that popped into my mind repeatedly during the performances was 'seamless' - I was constantly amazed at how the many varied elements of Riley's compositional repertoire blended and shifted (from the slowly evolving ostinatos, and polyrhythmic patterns one might expect from the 'minimalist' branding to 'eastern' harmonies and melodies, to fantastically tweaked scales and arpeggios that made me suddenly sit up and think 'wow, I've never heard that before', to blues and jazz chords and progressions. I have no idea how he manages to move about so freely and effortlessly in this huge musical space. I heard touches of Chick Corea in parts, with tripping triplets and long woven melodies, Abdullah Ibrahim, and a kind of joyful funky playful groove that made me think of Vince Guaraldi. No doubt if you've listened to Jazz pianists more deeply than I, you'd find other more interesting comparisons, but I was surprised at the range of different sounds and styles, and the way in which everything flowed and evolved.

Michael McClure's poetry shares some of this quality, and the joint performance had some of its highlights when these flows worked together - as in the layered and re-entrant Plum Stones - Cartoons of No Heaven

McClure's vivid, vigorous translation of Dante Canto 17 was accompanied by Riley on Piano (he was bowing, or otherwise producing sounds directly from the strings, not the keyboard) and an electronic keyboard, which felt a little jarring and dissociated, especially in parts where the samples sounded a little too 'stock', featuring snips of drumkit that just didn't seem to fit. Other moments of Riley's playing, though had a marvelous orchestral quality, reminiscent of Joe Zawinul's keyboard work with Weather Report.

The audience seemed appreciative, but I had the feeling that some of them were expecting one thing or another, that they didn't get. Perhaps they wanted to hear the Terry Riley of "In C", or "Rainbow in Curved Air", or the Hollywood celebrity McClure presenting with long-time collaborator and Ray Manzarek. Perhaps it was best to arrive with no expectations. For two hours I was very much kept in the moment, in a warm, very human, intelligent and adventurous exploration by two of the original creators of 20th Century music and poetry, still very vibrant and vital in their art.

The performance was produced by International Arts Initiatives, which has been putting together shows by some really amazing performers (the next performance is the Philp Glass Ensemble, performing live the soundtrack to Kotaanisqatsi, a bit of a landmark in movies, still a great favourite of many cineophiles. Ah, Vancouver is getting to be a city worth living in, for this sort of thing, thanks to people like the IAI. Thanks!