Juicebox: Bypassing Preconceptions

Norman Lebrecht, of the blog Slipped Disc, was kind enough to show interest in our experiences at Juicebox and asked for some thoughts about the experience.  Here's what Doyle shared:

3-year-olds love Elliott Carter…at least the 3-year-olds found scurrying beneath the iconic Tiffany dome of Preston Bradley Hall on Friday morning. Chicago’s Department of Cultural Affairs and Special Events (DCASE) has launched a fresh new series with the intention of immersing toddlers and their caregivers in contemporary music, dance and theatre, cleverly titled "Juicebox," and Spektral Quartet is thrilled to have been the lead-off ensemble. We are also still wiping Cheerios dust off our strings.

What seems clear to DCASE, and certainly to our quartet, is that listeners have to be taught to bristle or sneer at certain flavors of music. Take Carter's Quartet No. 2, which tends to elicit some of the more emphatic responses, from ecstatic to cynical, from our audiences. We've developed larger-than-life character descriptions for each instrument's role, a self-composed play synopsis for the movements, and had open conversations with each other about the piece in front of the audience prior to performing it in an effort to create a foothold for first-time listeners. This has been encouragingly successful. On the other hand, tell toddlers, "This piece is awesome," play it with gusto, and their response is, "THIS PIECE IS AWESOME!"

For our Juicebox debut, Spektral excerpted Thomas Adès's Arcadiana, Hans Thomalla's Albumblatt, and Marcos Balter's Chambers in addition to the Carter. With the help of Spektral violinist Austin Wulliman's mother Phyllis, who translated our ideas into Toddler, we approached each composer as an explorer. Adès explores the alchemy of painting into sound: parents here rocked with their children back and forth during the fog-veiled gondola ride of Arcadiana's first movement. Thomalla explores the sounds around him in everyday life: violinist Aurelien plays the bariolage measures, likening it to an ambulance siren, and dozens of tiny eyes widen. Balter explores the world as if through a microscope: Phyllis encourages the children to look skyward, and has them pick out a tiny snowflake from among the myriad details of the brilliant, colored glass dome. Finally, the fourth movement and conclusion of Carter's each-instrument-as-independent-character masterpiece is introduced as four people all talking simultaneously, not listening to each other until the second violin reins in the proceedings and restores order. After all, what's a kid's concert without an under-the-radar morality lesson?

At a concert of Mozart for (primarily) septua- and octogenarians the previous evening, one well-intentioned but concerned gentleman asked, "Tonight you're playing for an enthusiastic group of old people who love this music. Who comes to your other shows?" Spektral Quartet has been focused on breaking the fourth wall since its inception, commandeering bars as performance spaces and experimenting with seating the audience up-close, encircling the quartet. We've also prioritized playing works by emerging and local composers, so we were able to respond confidently that our audience is young and open-eared.

Ultimately, it can be distilled down to this: bypassing the need for "un-learning" preconceptions about new music is why the Juicebox series is a powerful artistic venture, and one we will continue to support.

 

A Juicebox for Chicago's Preschoolers

No need to call a babysitter for Spektral's next concert!

We are thrilled to be the lead-off ensemble on the Chicago Dept. of Cultural Affairs brand-new series, Juicebox. Created for pre-kindergarteners and their parents, Juicebox is bringing some of City's most cutting-edge new-music/theatre/dance under the Tiffany dome at the Chicago Cultural Center, transforming it into a kid-friendly performance space. Cheerios in a ziploc? Bring 'em. Feel the need to dance or squeal? Go for it! Forgot your wallet, Mom and Dad? It's free!

Guiding Spektral's all new-music set is early childhood development ace (she raised Austin, after all), Phyllis Wulliman. Conjuring narratives and inspiring children to interact with the music, Phyllis and the Quartet will take the audience on a voyage through the brilliant and evocative scores of Elliott Carter, Hans Thomalla and Thomas Adès.

So pack those diaper bags and join us for a morning of new-music hoopla!* 

WHERE Chicago Cultural Center
Preston Bradley Hall
78 E Washington, Chicago

WHEN Friday, Feb1st, 2013
10am

TICKETS Free

*misbehaving parents will be asked to sit in time out chairs for a period of 15min.

Return to the land of Goshen

This Friday at 7:30 marks the fourth concert we've given in Goshen, Indiana in this quartet's short life.  This is no coincidence, as I was born and raised in Goshen and my parents still live there as an active part of the Mennonite community surrounding Goshen College.  We've already played Haydn's "Seven Last Words" in the College Church, as well as music by Brahms, Ades and more in the acoustically wonderful Reith Recital Hall in Goshen College's Music Center.  You can take a trip back in time to last year's trip in a blog post about our snowy drive, or read about this year's concert on their website.

Goshen College Music Center

We return with a program of music by vocally inspired composers: Verdi, Mozart, Wolf and James Blake (as re-imagined by Chris Fisher-Lochhead).  All these composers have an amazing imagination for musical characters: sneaky villains, beautiful heroines and comic fools will all show their face as the musical drama unfolds.

For a little taste of what you'll see at the show, you can see us in a very intimate live performance at Comfort Music this summer:

 

Vermont Sojourn

The folks at Scrag Mountain Music have set the bar high for hospitality.  Our week in Vermont wasn't just full of scenic beauty and wonderful people, but some of the best and freshest food we've ever had.  Bacon and eggs from around the bend on the mountain never tasted better before a marathon rehearsal day!  Mary Bonhag and Evan Premo, directors of the series, were extraordinarily gracious...especially since we had a third host, their two-month-old, Glen!

Here's the story of our week in photos.

Things started off a little slap-happy at O'Hare in the early morning Monday.

We got our stuff into our hosts' homes as the sun set over the Green Mountains.

Our second day there, we rehearsed all day...and then had another public session in the evening.  Rehearsing in front of people really makes things more productive in an urgent way if you choose something early in the learning process! Stay tuned for more of these, Mary and Evan's idea of the "Very Open Rehearsal" is a great one.

Our plan of doing a different program each day, Friday through Sunday, meant some long rehearsal days.  It wasn't always pretty.  Here's Evan, helping us set up for the day with Glen in tow.

Doyle explains the finer point of "balancing to the viola line" to Russ.

And finally in action (fueled by some deliciously Vermont-roasted coffee).

A long day of rehearsal isn't complete without some brown liquid.  We went to check out The Prohibition Pig and Aurelien got a taste of some of the local rye flavor made by Whistle Pig.

CUTE ANIMAL BREAK! Here's my new friend, Raven.  She was pretty much the best.

Our run of three shows began Friday, we played a piece by Evan with him sitting in and Mary sang a piece by Earl Kim with us.  The quartet played Ades' "Arcadiana", the Verdi Quartet and Chris Fisher-Lochhead's version of James Blake's "I Never Learnt to Share".  The greeting party didn't bother to clean up for us.  (Did you catch the theme of the week yet, as well?)

Saturday, things were a bit more refined for a church concert in Warren.  The quartet played Mozart, K. 575 and Marcos Balter's "Chambers".  Here's our warmup session with Mary on Earl Kim's "Three French Songs".

That night, it snowed.  Vermont is special.  I wish I'd taken my phone with me on my run into the countryside that morning.  The pastures of cows with no humans to be seen for miles were incredibly beautiful.  Here's the barn outside Evan and Mary's house.

Our final concert was in Montpelier, in a local theater.  An incredibly open-minded crowd laughed with us as we gave a ten minute presentation and conversation about Carter's Second Quartet, as well as playing Wolf's "Italian Serenade" and repeating Chris' "I Never Learnt to Share" adaptation.  Doyle had an intimate moment with his phone before the audience arrived.

Thanks for everything, Scrag Mountain folk and Vermont in general! One thing I won't miss: discussions of the pronunciation of "Montpelier" with Aurelien.  It's really embarrassing for all of us when we start trying to pronounce French words.

Old Man and the C-arter

This week, Spektral gives its first-ever performance of Elliott Carter's String Quartet No. 2 at the National Pastime Theater. I've now had two separate incidents of someone asking me if we decided to play this monumental work after learning of Carter's death. I only wish I traveled with the score, so as to quickly (and passive-aggressively) answer their query. Unpacking this piece, with all it's hocket-ed composite rhythms and wickedly-challenging passagework, has been an experience equally frustrating and gratifying for us. This is Carter, though. That's what HE DOES.

The title of the show is a quote from the man himself, that reads: "An auditory scenario for the players to act out with their instruments." It is not specifically tied to Quartet No. 2, but it closely parallels the individuality of each part, or character, around which Carter wrote this score. Aurelien's imaginative synopsis of the "plot" will be included in the program, and each of us will offer descriptions from the stage of who we feel our character is. 

I thought I'd preempt Wednesday's show by giving you my (unauthorized by my quartet-mates) film analogies to these personalities. The concert is BYOB, so with enough rye in your flask, these will make perfect sense…

Austin: 

 

Aurelien: 

Doyle: 

 

Russ:

Tickets are $5 cheaper in advance. See you on Wednesday!

Expressions of Carter Over Time

null

As a freshman in high school, I signed up for an email listserv focusing on 20th century music. Being from a small college town in Indiana, I hadn't had much exposure to classical music written after the Rite of Spring.  At this point in my life, I hadn't even really considered the possibility of playing the violin professionally.  In fact, my sentiments as recently as a year before would have led me to prefer prioritizing my spot on the wrestling team over playing a note on the violin ever again.

But, around my fifteenth birthday I began discovering music again, and finding that that the weirder it was the more I wanted to hear it.  I wanted more than just to know about it, I wanted to "get it".  This listserv proved pivotal in my musical development, even if I only followed it for a month and they never discussed much of what I now consider to be truly avante-garde.  

A message discussing a disc of Boulez conducting Varese piqued my interest.  Who was this Varese guy?  However, I quickly found that the headliner of the disc (as far as my project to digest wildly new musical styles was concerned) was clearly the "Symphony of Three Orchestras" by Elliott Carter.

From the devastating Hart Crane quote in the liner notes to the sheer volume of musical ideas bursting from this piece, I knew I had found something I truly did not understand.  But, it was a revelation.  In not understanding, I saw a vast landscape of music in front of me, shrouded in fog.  I couldn't even begin to know where the horizon was.  

It was exhilarating to have this work take over my world so completely, with its impossibly expressive lines interacting in ways that never ceased to amaze.  Listening to the piece again now, I feel lucky to have found it when I did.  Just months later, when my private instructor planted the seed of working to be a professional violinist in my mind, visions of playing new and exciting music inspired me to take on the challenge.

To this day my perceptions of musical expression and time are being influenced and changed by Carter's infinitely subtle and sensitive art.  In fact, as this blog post goes live, I will be rehearsing the fourth movement of his Second String Quartet with my mates in Spektral Quartet.  Every rehearsal reveals the lines more clearly, hearing how they interact and converse in the most organic, yet unexpected, ways.

Just yesterday, as I walked out of a rehearsal of the quartet, my facebook feed was filled with memorials to Carter and his work.  I can think of no more fitting way to find out of his passing than from my peers.  His music will be a constant in our lives, an unavoidable pillar of the American canon.  I know my story is far from special - many of us were introduced to the deep questioning and probing expression of great new music through Elliott Carter's work.

Old Man and the C: Familiar Territory

 
Soon after Spektral cracked its first six-pack, reading through quartets and wondering if we wanted to gallop off chasing windmills, we decided that taking this particular brand of music into unexpected locales was a must. We would head to a bar after our shows. Our audience heads to a bar after shows. Why not save us all a bit of shoe leather? And so the Sampler Pack tradition was born. We'd start each season with a single-movement and short piece menu at one of our favorite haunts, The Empty Bottle.
 
Prior to our third time packing the Bottle mid-week, I was approached by the venue's owner to inquire whether or not I'd like to curate a new-music series there. Chicago has no shortage of new-music ensembles, and most are looking to add dates to their schedules, so of course I replied with an Omar Little-ian: "InDEED!" And now Chicago may add The (Un)familiar Music Series to its roster, with yours truly selecting the talent.
 
 
The second installment of (Un)familiar arrived on Oct 24th, with Fischoff Chamber Music Competition gold-medal-winners The City of Tomorrow.
 
 
Featuring Chicago's own Andrew Nogal on oboe, this new-music-evangelizing woodwind quintet had the dubious distinction of being an early-adopter of a brand-spanking-new endeavor, so the crowd was unsurprisingly diminutive. Gainesville, FL rockers Levek, who held the late slot that night, made up the front row of the audience, and were the most vocal about their post-show love of Berio, Salonen and Lang.
 
City of Tomorrow cross-pollinating with Levek
 
Esa-Pekka Salonen: "Memoria"
 
Taking a cue from Spektral's approach to playing to new faces at the Bottle, COT interjected anecdotes from its tour, the best of which revolved around David Lang's minimalist quintet, "Breathless." A woman had approached the band after a recent show to express her admiration of the music-making, but soon went long in the face and admonished them never, ever to play the Lang in public again. The piece can be confrontational for the audience in its loquacious unison and octave repetitions, and the tale drew laughs from the crowd, but the story reminded me of why it is so important for us new-music junkies to get these scores out of the concert hall on occasion. Even a negative response is a response, and chances are quite good that a large quotient of the uninitiated in a bar setting won't hear this music unless we drag Manhassets in and perform like our lives depend on it. Which they do.
 
 
"David Lang: "Breathless"
 
City of Tomorrow played magnificently on their (Un)familiar debut, and more than a few attendees were introduced to the awesomesauce of Luciano Berio with the band's delivery of "Ricorrenze."
 
Andrew Nogal (oboe) and Elise Blatchford (flute)
 
There are four more (Un)familiar shows coming up this year, including our next offering with Chicago Q Ensemble on Feb. 13th. Do yourself a favor. Pony up some small bills, get your hand stamped, grab a beer at the bar and find out just what Spektral has gotten stirred up in our fair city.
 

Maiden Voyage to Milwaukee

This weekend marked out first trip to Milwaukee for a concert at the Unruly Music Festival. We had a fantastic day, beginning with a workshop with students and ending with a concert at the Marcus Center's Vogel Hall.

Friday, the day before the trip.  We rehearsed from nine in the morning 'til four in the afternoon, and just before we left we discussed the last details of our travels the next day.

Saturday morning, after reading sketches by University of Wisconsin at Milwaukee (our hosts) for works they'll complete for the spring edition of the festival.

Alterra Coffee for lunch! We got a little excited.

Arrival in the Marcus Center.

Diving into the ritual of setting up for tech rehearsal of Black Angels.

It's almost showtime...

We're outta here!  What's Aurelien looking at?

It's a reveler too drunk to stay on his bike! Luckily the police are here to help him.

Launching the Logan Center

We're incredibly excited, thrilled, pumped up and stoked to be playing one of the first concerts in the amazing new Reva and David Logan Center for the Arts at the University of Chicago.  If you're reading this blog, you probably know that we were recently named Ensemble in Residence at U. of C., so it feels particularly fitting to be launching our brand-spanking-new residency with a performance in a brand new venue.  There's an entire festival of events this weekend, and we hope we'll see you in the Performance Hall for our show on Friday.

But, this building is way more than just a new concert hall.  This is a ten story building with a unique "Performance Loft" on the 9th floor with this view (clicking photos makes 'em get big!):

It's an architectural wonder with many amazing corridors and open spaces:

It asserts itself in the Hyde Park landscape boldly:

And, it has space for a full range of artistic activities.  But, that's not why you're here.  We're so excited about the new concert hall in this building.  We had the chance to try it out last spring (before it was fully completed) when the team from Kirkegaard Associates was in town to see how their work was sounding.  Here we are, getting used to a stage we hope to take many times:

 

 

An Exciting Announcement

Hey all!

We are excited to announce that the University of Chicago's Department of Music has appointed us "Ensemble-in-Residence" beginning this fall!   We will be performing in concerts, giving workshops, coaching chamber music, and collaborating with the vaunted composition department all year long.  Read our full press release below, and we hope to see you in Hyde Park some time this season.

All best,
Aurelien, Austin, Doyle and Russ

[divider_line]

For immediate release:

The Spektral Quartet is thrilled to announce its new post as Ensemble-In-Residence at the University of Chicago's Department of Music beginning in the 2012/2013 academic year. Having served as orchestral, chamber and private lesson coaches for the University's string students during 2011/2012, the Chicago-based group will become Hyde Park regulars in both pedagogical and performance capacities through this formalized position.

Champions of new music, and specifically Chicago composers, Spektral will be working closely with the University’s composition faculty and students through its participation in the New Music Ensemble. The University Chamber and Symphony Orchestras will receive regular sectional coachings from the foursome, as will the student string chamber ensembles, who will be given professional guidance and rehearsal technique primers through Spektral's interactive workshops. Each academic quarter, the quartet will perform its signature new-cum-traditional concerts for the neighborhood's residents, faculty and students.

The Spektral Quartet inaugurates its new relationship with University of Chicago with a performance of works by Hugo Wolf, Joseph Haydn and George Crumb as part of the Logan Launch Festival, celebrating the opening of the brand-new Logan Center for the Arts and its acoustically excellent Performance Hall.  The concert takes place on Friday, October 12, at 8:00pm at the Reva and David Logan Center for the Arts, 915 E. 60th Street.  Admission is free.

Nice (W)rig(ley)

This is Wrigley. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Wrigley is the Woody Allen of the dog world: charming but anxiety-ridden. He will, however, gladly sit and listen (one ear up - one ear down) to the dulcet tones of disembodied Berio and Carter viola parts as I dissect them. Until such time (i.e. every 6-7 minutes) as he needs some attention, at which point he nudges my bow-arm elbow with conviction and an impossible-to-ignore grin. Wrigley also occassionaly likes to rehearse his favorite scenes from Logan's Run, suddenly tearing across the room with little to no warning.
 
Tethered to the AC-adapter as it is, I've found the Boss DB-90 metronome to be a resilient piece of equipment during these escapades, when the aforementioned cord attempts to thwart our hero. 
 
A trip to the local, independent guitar shop produced a solution that not only answered the dog issue, but also solved the irritating problem of metronome placement. On the stand, it blocks the music. On the desk or table, it is often not percussive enough (for Berio, anyway) and cumbersome to adjust.
 
After consulting with the Neil Peart fanatic behind the counter, I made my exit with two items: a Tama MC66 Universal Clamp and a Tama Threaded L-Rod
 
The universal clamp fits perfectly on a Manhasset (or pretty much any stand, for that matter) and the threaded l-rod winds snugly into the top of the DB-90. Rigged like so, the metronome sits at a 45-degree angle just below the lip of the stand:
 
 
Upsides: clear viewing angle, maximum audibility, easy access to metronome controls, uninhibited page turns, minimum Wrigley-interference
 
Downsides: weight, bulkiness
 
This one may only be for my fellow gear-heads out there, but it's a winner. Back to practicing...
 

Nice (W)rig(ley)

This is Wrigley. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Wrigley is the Woody Allen of the dog world: charming but anxiety-ridden. He will, however, gladly sit and listen (one ear up - one ear down) to the dulcet tones of disembodied Berio and Carter viola parts as I dissect them. Until such time (i.e. every 6-7 minutes) as he needs some attention, at which point he nudges my bow-arm elbow with conviction and an impossible-to-ignore grin. Wrigley also occassionaly likes to rehearse his favorite scenes from Logan's Run, suddenly tearing across the room with little to no warning.
 
Tethered to the AC-adapter as it is, I've found the Boss DB-90 metronome to be a resilient piece of equipment during these escapades, when the aforementioned cord attempts to thwart our hero. 
 
A trip to the local, independent guitar shop produced a solution that not only answered the dog issue, but also solved the irritating problem of metronome placement. On the stand, it blocks the music. On the desk or table, it is often not percussive enough (for Berio, anyway) and cumbersome to adjust.
 
After consulting with the Neil Peart fanatic behind the counter, I made my exit with two items: a Tama MC66 Universal Clamp and a Tama Threaded L-Rod
 
The universal clamp fits perfectly on a Manhasset (or pretty much any stand, for that matter) and the threaded l-rod winds snugly into the top of the DB-90. Rigged like so, the metronome sits at a 45-degree angle just below the lip of the stand:
 
 
Upsides: clear viewing angle, maximum audibility, easy access to metronome controls, uninhibited page turns, minimum Wrigley-interference
 
Downsides: weight, bulkiness
 
This one may only be for my fellow gear-heads out there, but it's a winner. Back to practicing...
 

Greetings from Deutschland

As many of you likely know, I also play violin for the contemporary music group Ensemble Dal Niente.  Starting last weekend, and continuing through this week, I am in Darmstadt, Germany with the ensemble for the (in)famous Summer Course for New Music.  You can expect more thoughts from me once I'm not in the midst of rehearsal on some of the most challenging music I've ever tackled - especially on the amazing chamber performances by the Arditti Quartet and Ensemble Recherche in works by Brian Ferneyhough.

For now, I hope you enjoy my photo-blog...since my phone is mostly useful as an mp3 player and camera here.  Clicking a photo makes it bigger!

The opening concert of the festival, with Ensemble Modern playing Cage.

The amazing Arditti Quartet with Brian Ferneyhough after performing his String Quartet No. 6.  More on this later.

A side-street in Darmstadt, that I discovered en-route to my and Jesse Langen's Shangri-La of espresso drinks.

Daniel Vezza plays the hero as well as the composer at Dal Niente's composer workshop by killing a Godzilla-sized spider.

Dal Niente's workshop concert got a bit crowded when extensive piano preparations moved us into a small chamber hall.

The view from my hotel room balcony.  I'll see you and the quartet soon enough.

Shining the Artistic Spotlight on a Decade of War

By Guest Bloggers Arlene and Larry Dunn

Well past the 10-year mark, we are engaged in the longest war in our nation’s history. We have spent at least $1.5 trillion dollars prosecuting war in Iraq and Afghanistan – much more if you count the full costs, such as the interest on the debt to borrow this money. Hundreds of thousands of soldiers have been deployed, many multiple times. Over 6,000 have died, and another 42,000 wounded. At least 132,000 Afghan and Iraqi civilians have died as well. And yet the large majority of American citizens are oblivious to the stark realities of these wars and only a very small percentage of us actually serves.

On May 23 and 24 in Chicago, Spektral Quartet, in collaboration with High Concept Laboratories, presented Theatre of War. This artistic effort to raise the level of discourse about our wars was scheduled just days after the NATO Summit, where our leaders negotiated our future military commitments in Afghanistan. All ticket proceeds from the event were donated to the Vet Art Project (www.vetartproject.com) to support their vital mission.

Theatre of War was a disquieting evening in which artists from a variety of genres brought forth elements of our nation's wars in Iraq and Afghanistan to an awestruck audience. Music, film, poetry, and drama were presented without breaks and with a request to the audience to hold their applause until the end. We were reminded of the nightly TV News reports during the War in Vietnam which brought the horrors of war into our living rooms every evening. That war affected everyone. Young men of all backgrounds were drafted. Everyone knew someone in uniform or waiting for a call from the local draft board.

For us, the knockout punch of the evening was the combination of Richard Mosse’s film "Killcam" and George Crumb’s Vietnam-era string quartet "Black Angels." “Killcam” juxtaposes two settings. Injured soldiers recuperating at Walter Reed Hospital are enthusiastically playing a video war game, with images that look eerily like combat locations in Iraq. Interspersed are scenes from actual Iraq war footage (via LiveLeaks). Men and vehicles are blown up by missiles delivered via remote control. The targeting crosshair images in these clips are nearly identical to the crosshairs in the video game being played at the hospital. But these are real people getting blown up by real explosives and really dying. Frightening enough just to look at, it is even more disturbing that these deaths were caused by antiseptic remote control.

Shortly after ”Killcam,” Spektral Quartet performed “Black Angels,” the original raison d’etre for Theatre of War. In this extraordinary piece for amplified string quartet, the musicians are challenged far beyond the standard bowing and plucking techniques. They used a panoply of accoutrements from thimbles, small bells, and glass rods, to tuned wine glasses of various sizes. At times they also chanted number sequences in several languages, in loud bursts or almost at a whisper. Crumb wrote this piece about the Vietnam War. The opening, THRENODY I: Night of the Electric Insects, was startling and terrifying, thrusting us into the jungle theater of that war. Quiet interludes were suddenly disrupted by shrieks of sound, like a surprise attack by guerrilla fighters. Death is ultimately portrayed in near silence; the stunned audience was held in it’s thrall. It is hard for us to imagine a more deeply committed performance of “Black Angels.”

The other most moving piece of the evening was “Blackbird,” a short story by Virginia Konchan, adapted for the stage by High Concept Laboratories Artistic Director Molly Feingold. Mitch Spalding, a soldier struggling with post-traumatic stress, is about to be redeployed. He finagles the Army for access to psychiatric counseling before he departs. But he finds no healing in it. Dustin Valenta, as Mitch, ably portrayed the anxiety plaguing soldiers overdosed on combat. He personified the human cost of serving in today’s military. Jeremy Clark, as the psychiatrist, maintained a cool, detached demeanor. He repeatedly stated “Good,” as Mitch reeled off examples of how bad things are, callously invalidating Mitch’s every emotion. ”Blackbird” powerfully illustrated the disconnect, not just between the soldiers and the general public, but also between those who serve and the people assigned to help them bear that burden.

The evening’s other components -- pianist Lisa Kaplan’s nerve-jangling performance of Drew Baker’s “Stress Position,” two additional Mosse films, and readings of poems by Wislawa Szymborska -- each contributed meaningfully to making Theatre of War a momentous achievement. We commend Spektral Quartet and their artistic partners for their boldness in holding these troubling realities up to the light for the audience to confront. So where does that leave us?

No matter where one stands on the rightness or wrongness of our continuing military actions, we are going about this in an irresponsible way that is not healthy for our society. We owe it to our “Mitches” that we fully understand what we are asking them to do in our names, whether they are shrugging into a kevlar suit for face-to-face combat in Afghanistan or sitting down at a remote control drone command center in a bunker in South Dakota. And we owe it to ourselves to demand from our elected officials that decisions about committing the lives of our soldiers and our treasury to war-making must be vigorously debated in the public square.

As to where we ourselves stand, we are deeply troubled. If we are going to war, we believe we should pay for it, and we do not mean by deluding ourselves that we can tax-cut our way to growth to cover the costs. We have to stop abusing our military families with endless deployments. We are driving them to despair. We hear people say: “They volunteered to serve; they knew what they were getting into.” That is simply unacceptable, self-delusional crap. We worry that the military actions we are taking are doing as much to prolong our problems with terrorism as they are to stop them. As we write this article, we are learning in the New York Times (http://www.nytimes.com/2012/05/29/world/obamas-leadership-in-war-on-al-qaeda.html?ref=opinion) that our President is directly involved in the decisions about who will get death-by-drone rained down upon them. On the one hand, we are heartened that at least he is taking personal responsibility. But we find the whole secret drone strike campaign legally dubious and morally suspect. And if nothing else, it is hard to imagine a more effective terrorist recruiting tool.

We are grateful to Spektral Quartet for helping our community to confront these difficult issues. We fervently hope this leads to more serious public discourse about our ongoing commitments.

Arlene and Larry Dunn are avid fans of a wide range of contemporary arts and music endeavors as well as life-long social activists. They are frequent contributors of “audience perspective” blog postings for ICE, the International Contemporary Ensemble. They live in rural LaPorte County, Indiana.   Follow them on Twitter: @ICEfansArleneLD

Old Man and the Screen

On Thursday morning we performed at a private home for a man who is no longer able to leave the house for luxuries such as concerts. A director of over two hundred films, you've undoubtedly seen his name listed near the top of a set of end credits as they scroll up and out of sight. Lest you assume this was some display of vanity, summoning a quartet to his home, our outing was at the request of the family for a father/grandfather/husband nearing the end of his life. One whose love of music is profound. A director who during his career frequently insisted on hiring a film composer and orchestra for his projects' soundtracks. Let's call him The Director.

The Director is infirm, but there are no IV carts or humming machines inhibiting his movement or the subtle one-corner-of-the-mouth smile that appears when the incorrigible violist of said quartet makes a crack about how "This house is great, but it could really use a painting or two" (we played beneath a Miró not one but two Siquieroses). Sitting beneath a towering, 12' totem as the family and guests absconded for post-concert sandwiches, The Director guided my questions about his work toward discussions of the music within them. Then we agreed that Stephen Daldry's 2002 picture, The Hours, was only The Hours because of the architecture of the Phillip Glass score buoying it. A family friend rounded the couch to ask, without malice (or understanding), if our intention was to "Do this music full-time." The Director's knowing smile squelched any desire on my part for a snide retort. Had The Director and I been at some high-society soiree back in his more agile days, we would have snuck in a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle and one-upped each other on disparaging the collagen-jobs parading around the room.

The gratitude of The Director's wife and two adult children was heartfelt and earnest, and as we headed down the front steps, my thoughts began to coalesce: this Haydn and Brahms and Ravel could very well be the last bit of live Kammermusik The Director will experience. It's perhaps morbid to say, and yet the fact remains that this man misses concerts so deeply that his family was ultimately inspired to make the request. Music is vital to more than just musicians.

The only people likely to read this are the proverbial preached-to choir, but I'd venture to guess that this thought has surfaced, epiphany-like, for you as well at some singular moment. Hopefully, and likely, more than once.

Spektral has made every effort to create an event in Theatre of War that moves the dynamic of the concert as temporally-restricted art-moment to something with more tenacity. From the donation of ticket proceeds to the Vet Art Project to the post-concert interviews to the impact of each piece included on the program, it's all built to be like a handprint in hardening concrete. The kind of performance that moves beyond Holy-shit-how-do-they-play-in-parallel-minor-2nds into Holy-shit-I-had-no-idea-and-now-I-must-act.

Thanks to The Director for reminding me that this is the kind of music I want to make.