Miami, a city not synonymous with classical music, keeps luring me back to prove otherwise. I've grown to love Miami through making music in Miami; the oppressive heat & humidity is daunting, but they eventually give way to majestic causeways and stunning ocean views. The landscape provokes nostalgic feelings of New York City, a conglomerate of oceanic islands sewed together by bridges and tunnels. In Miami I feel strangely at home.
Archipel I, an aleatory composition by the experimental composer Andre Boucourechliev scored for two pianos and percussion, was programmed on the Land, Sea, Sky: New World Symphony Percussion Consort concert at Miami Beach's Lincoln Theatre. The score arrived in a neat tube by mail in August, and I unrolled a visually breathtaking piece of compositional artwork. Fragments, or "islands" of music spread out across an immense piece of paper - and I was to create my own adventure (at my own choosing and leisure!) from one island to another:
Each fragment, so varied, transported me to a different mindset, location, emotion. Meticulously working out each fragment at the piano uncovered sound bites of primal nature - massive tides, howling wind, tremors, destructive thunder & lightning, echos, jolts of electricity through unstable thin air. Sound images of crickets, birds, biting bugs, and statuesque sea creatures induced fear, anger, nervousness as well as ease and tranquility. Rehearsing with the second piano amplified sound bites to surround sound levels and magnified sound images into 3D. Extensive percussion added drama, glitter and colossal plateaus to multiple waves of sound:
The rehearsals were fun, almost too much fun, as a unified "itinerary" surfaced from our individual reactions and responses to our travels. A few arbitrary decisions were made for the two separate performances solely for the purpose of insuring that they will yield different outcomes, but overall the music-making was absolutely spur of the moment. This generated an incredible sense of freedom that performers, devoted slaves to our scores, rarely get to experience.
Naturally, being in Miami, post-concert yields chic beachfront parties with beautiful people and ample intoxicating fluids. Our destination was The Standard Hotel, and I celebrated quietly, enjoying the surrounding glitz and glamour while realizing that I'm far away from home. It's 10:30pm, the temperature is a bizarre 80 degrees, skyscraper stiletto heels and millimeter length skirts everywhere:
The ladies looked fantastic, but would they still look fantastic running after a cab in NYC?
