ICE/Xenakis

Solid. Singular.

I have these words written at the top of my “Embellie” (Xenakis’s 1981 solo viola piece) part. To me, the opening of the piece–all on the C string, uncomplicated rhythms [uncomplicated rhythms? Xenakis?!], and a determined, ruthless forte–embodies these words.

When I started exploring the piece, which was the first Xenakis I learned, I wrote to Garth Knox–former violist of the Arditti quartet and a powerhouse new music violist. He worked with Xenakis on many occasions and recorded Embellie on the Montaigne label. Garth offered several valuable pieces of technical advice, also dispensing some of the errata he and Xenakis had discovered during their work together. He did confide that Xenakis was much more concerned about overall sound and movement than he was about something so piddling as notes, so Garth admitted he himself has gone back and forth about some of the inconsistencies in the part since he recorded it. The most memorable thing he shared, though, was Xenakis’s concept of sound. It is a description I will never forget. When I asked about vibrato, he replied that Xenakis insisted on “ABSOLUTELY NONE EVER!” But the non-vibrato sound Garth cultivated on the recording was not cold, or transparent, or like anything I had ever heard before, really–especially within the fortes and fortissimos Xenakis was so fond of. The goal, Garth wrote, is to be “absolutely straight and pure and strong like sculpted marble – and take no prisoners!” With this description of marble, I envisioned huge pillars of sound. Monoliths. I absolutely fell in love with this image and knew it was exactly how the beginning of “Embellie” should sound.

As I walked onstage at Northwestern for my “maiden voyage” performance, I zeroed in on these images. I placed my part on the stand, taking a moment to look at the words I had scrawled at the top of the page. “Solid. Singular.” I wanted the audience’s first impression of the piece to be one of fierce and uncompromising strength. So I did everything I try to get my students to do when we’re working on sound: planted my feet, relaxed my knees, and imagined my sound channeling up through my legs and the rest of my body. I relaxed the smaller muscles in my fingers, wrist, and arms, and created the sound by using the larger muscles in my back. (In the interest of full disclosure, I think I probably told myself “balls to the wall.”)

“C—-D—F3/4#-G–C–G—-F3/4#—-………”

ca-clunk…..clunk…clunk…

My bow spilled out of aforementioned “relaxed small muscles”–I swear, THAT part of me was relaxed!–and clattered to Pick-Staiger’s floor. There were a few gasps, some giggles–and the unforgettable looks on my parents’ and grandpa’s faces. Ah yes, I looked straight at the people who had driven nearly 2 hours to see this concert, only to see me drop the gorgeous Hill bow they had bought for me only a few years earlier.

I laughed nervously and observed the audience, my heart and mind racing. What was I supposed to do? Hundreds of eyes looked at me expectantly. All I could do was be gracious and graceful… and start over.

With an apologetic smile, I looked at them again.

“Excuse me.”

“C—-D—F3/4#-G–C–G—-F3/4#—-………”