David Coll - Instrumental Works for Small Ensemble

While the title of this piece may be more immediately evocative of the works by composer Pierre Boulez, its significance lies in the sense of the word given by Guy Debord and practiced by the Situationists in France and elsewhere. Literally meaning drift, Debord describes it as follows:

"In a dérive one or more persons during a certain period drop their relations, their work and leisure activities, and all their other usual motives for movement and action, and let themselves be drawn by the attractions of the terrain and the encounters they find there. Chance is a less important factor in this activity than one might think: from a dérive point of view cities have psychogeographical contours, with constant currents, fixed points and vortexes that strongly discourage entry into or exit from certain zones.."
"The ecological analysis of the absolute or relative character of fissures in the urban network, of the role of microclimates, of distinct neighborhoods with no relation to administrative boundaries, and above all of the dominating action of centers of attraction, must be utilized and completed by psychogeographical methods. The objective passional terrain of the dérive must be defined in accordance both with its own logic and with its relations with social morphology."

While I had known of this term for some time now, it had only recently occurred to me that I compose in this manner. A work lives as a performance, and during this brief moment there is the potential for incredible things to occur that are contingent upon the conditions in the space. An instrument is a terrain in its own right; the performer, with each gesture and every cue, makes decisions that can have significance. Even in a concert hall, things change. 

Dérive (2009), for bass clarinet and cello. Ensemble Praesenz

Caldera (2016), for prepared bass clarinet and marimba. Transient Canvas duo

Ghost Dances takes its title from the American Indian religion based on the visions and practices of the prophet Jack Wilson (also named Wovoka), a Nevada-born Paiute. The Ghost Dance lasted five days and its participation promised many things, including an afterlife joined with ones relatives. All those who practiced the religion must be peaceful and nonviolent. I wrote this short work as a study meant to access some small effect of the delirium imbued in such an experience, amidst contemplation of larger societal forces at work, both in the late nineteenth century and now. This work is dedicated to my late teacher Luc Brewaeys and in gratitude to Michael Goldberg, for his countless hours of help.

Ghost Dances (2017), for alto flute, english horn, 2 guitars, violin, and cello. Left Coast Ensemble

Kathleen Winters, flutes; Tomoko Ono, piano; Gavin Ryan, percussion.

                          Recital to side, same with to side livid in part 
                          newly profuse did civic offer on a dial, sweep 
                          flight oh disposal profligate buck more in and 
                          ready. Tantric cube up tight seam, signal limit

(excerpt of a single stanza from STREAK~~~WILLING~~~ENTOURAGE ARTESIAN (2009), by JH Prynne)

I had the pleasure to hear Jeremy Prynne read this poem some years ago, and was struck with the sheer energy spouting from his mouth, among so many words, all ceaselessly moving forward. Yet visually the poem assumes a wholly different character. It’s a poem that sits on twelve tightly carved pages, each uniformly laid out with six block-like stanzas. For me, it was a compact and efficient example of the projectivist project, stated early on by Charles Olson in his essay Projective Verse. It stresses the idea that in any poem there must exist a “...high energy-construct and, at all points, an energy-discharge.”
Said What Choice Spoken (which are the last words of the 34th stanza) imagines its own initial material in such a way, but it acts upon an impulse to break free of the structure that makes the mouth mechanical: to move beyond the work as an untouchable-yet-felt object, and to find ways that allow these impulses to carve out pathways through such a structure, so as to enter into different spaces of expression that are wholly irrational, unexpected, and inexplicable. I hope that this may create some level of exhilaration that touches upon one’s experience reading Mr. Prynne’s poem.

Said What Choice Spoken (2012), for flute, percussion, and piano. Illinois Modern Ensemble

Peter Josheff, clarinets; Antoine van Dongen, violin; Mary Artmann, cello; Karen Rosenak, piano.

Black Piet is a work that takes its title from an aspect of a Christmas tradition in Holland and Belgium, where Saint-Nicolas (of whom Santa Claus is derived) has one or several black servants/slaves. ‘Zwarte Piet,’ as he is named, throws children in his burlap sack if they are naughty, taking them with him on his voyage back to Spain. At its most problematic, this festive tradition results in children and adults alike dressing in blackface, for concerts and parades. 

I became aware of this tradition in November and December 2012, as I was composing this work and preparing to return to California after a year of living in Gent, Belgium. I decided that titling this work Black Piet could not only problematize the idea of migration that is central to this festival, but would also place the work in the company of other protest pieces, such as works by John Lennon and The Clash to Hildegard Van Bingen and Julius Eastman. These issues apply to ideas that I have tried to weigh musically, such as the difference between actively embracing diverse sounds, as opposed to passively tolerating those that are somewhat incongruous. Ultimately I was unsure of how such ideas translated musically, so it came down to a simple decision over whether or not to find a new title. Once I made the association between this work and this cultural practice, the title felt inevitable. My hope is that, in keeping this title, the work might in some small way draw attention to a cultural practice that does more harm than good.


Notes: Piano technique from 6 minutes to end is incorrect. It is meant to be a squeaky, pitched sound, attained by pressing a glass strongly forward and back along the vertical length of a range of mid-pitched strings inside the piano.

Dérive (2009), for bass clarinet and cello. Ensemble Praesenz

davidcoll