This was the thought in my head–not just because of the name Christian Wolff, although that may have played a part–when the quintet played their lines in what could pass in some circles as unison. Clearly not explicitly rhythmically notated at all times, or possible partly rhythmically notated, it was extraordinary how their lines almost always slipped into something similar to speech rhythms. And I don’t mean “speech” in the abstract sense of anything made of words, but real English, American speech, with clipped rhythms and strange inflections: like a chorus of faithful speaking together.
Christian Wolff continues to surprise me, even as I cross the threshold of being acquainted with his work to beginning to grasp the extent and implication of his work. Classics professor emeritus at Dartmouth, he seems like the ultimate underground composer: serious ideas, but not like he has to live off of them. Rather, it seems like since he doesn’t have anyone to please–no contracts pending with the university that tenured him–he happens to write very difficult, deceptively easy, serious and funny music.
What I mean by serious: polyrhythms with unusual time signatures (or none at all), strange instrumentation, open scores, timbral concerns.
What I mean by funny: he simultaneously played the melodica with one hand and the steinway grand with the other.



