The Concerto for Mannequin Head is a purely speculative reconstruction of the only known example of folk music of the Haptu’i, a sentient amphibian species native to Gleise 581 c (an Earthlike planet orbiting a red dwarf star about 20 light-years Libra-ward from us). Transmissions from the Haptu’i were discovered by SETI in 2005 but not decoded until last year, when Arecibo Observatory scientist (and amateur guitarist) Evan Cale noticed that the successive transmissions, when arranged concurrently, resembled a musical score. This electronic piece is thus hobbled together from both these scores and what little we know of Haptu’i culture and physiognomy. I did most of the work on deciphering the harmony, which seems alternately based on symmetrical chords and the multiplication of frequencies (I have not been able to find a link between the two), and Mannequin Head did all the physical modeling and self-programming to emulate the larynx and vestibular chambers that (we presume) give the Haptu’i vocalizations their signature sound. This piece is dedicated to Wendy Carlos.

I’ve always thought there is something unique and indescribable about the resonance of a nice grand piano, the way a single note, when struck, will send faint sympathetic vibrations through the whole instrument, so that one note becomes all notes in some real yet intangible way. No one has quite captured this feeling the way Charlemagne Palestine has. Palestine is a composer/improviser and a contemporary of early minimalists like Terry Riley and Steve Reich. Palestine is best known for his intense piano improvisations in which he begins by playing one or two notes in rapid alternation, gradually building to huge clusters that generate layers of upper harmonics rarely heard from the piano.

While I delve into the textural world inhabited by Palestine in this piece, I wanted to employ formal and harmonic structures that were a little more meandering and mysterious. Lacking a nine-foot Bösendorfer grand piano, I also use electronics to artificially alter and augment the acoustic sounds. I wanted to feel like I was playing a piano with a supernaturally powerful sustain pedal that would extend the frequencies and resonances of the instrument far beyond what would ordinarily be possible.

Late in the process of working on this piece I saw a tenuous connection between Palestine’s spiritual ideas about music and the apocalyptic mysticism of Russian composer Alexander Scriabin, who once believed his music could end the world. Coincidentally, White Mass begins with the same dyad (G-B) that Scriabin uses to open his ninth sonata, often called the “Black Mass” sonata. Scriabin’s sonata is built upon a descending chromatic motive that seems as though it could plummet eternally, while the general trajectory of my piece is up. And so, White Mass.

Immense thanks to Aron Kallay for designing the electronic environment for this piece, and making my work as effortless as possible.

The excerpt below is from the final four minutes of the piece. It was performed by the composer on March 3rd, 2008, in the USC United University Church Sanctuary.

Ghost Trajectories is inspired by the twin processes of remembering and forgetting. Some time ago I became fascinated and frustrated with the way my thoughts would bounce around, seemingly entirely out of my control. A simple event like a rustling piece of paper would leave persistent echoes and traces in my mind that would decay only slowly, and it often seemed that the memory of an event would be far more powerful than the event itself. This insight into my mental landscape led me to attempt to depict this landscape musically. The resonance of instruments like the piano, harp and vibraphone seemed like an appropriate metaphor -- after a note is struck, its sound continues, but its persistence and decay are out of our control. The violin and winds mimic this process by playing repeating figures that trail off in volume and are passed, echo-like, back and forth between the various instruments. The piece explores both chaotic, dense textures (when the mind is overwhelmed by thoughts and memories), and more meditative moments permeated by silence (when the mind is clear and lucid).

Recorded at Brevard Music Center in July, 2007. Jeremy Benson, flute; Dana Howell, clarinet; Hart Linker, alto saxophone; Paul Kim, violin; Lucy Haslar, harp; Scott Crawford, percussion; Justin Kothenbeutel, piano

Sharp is a song cycle based on a set of poems by Jillian Burcar. When I first read Jillian's words, I was immediately struck by their direct and powerful imagery, and it was a challenge for me to try and set her texts in a way that amplifies their emotional qualities without compromising their original spirit. I decided to use a combination of sung and spoken text, and to set parts of her poems more than once, in different ways, to bring out the conflicted nature of the speaker. I also tried to present the three songs as a complete narrative arc, progressing from anger in "Poison Bones" through introspection in "Crayola Girl" to something else entirely in "With Such Teeth" (which, according to Jillian, was written while listening to "Mack the Knife").

The recording below is the last movement, "With Such Teeth," in its entirety, as performed by the University of Southern California's Contemporary Music Ensemble, with soloist Alexandra Loutsion, on Tuesday November 20th, 2007.

(Note: a version for soprano with piano accompaniment is also available.)

Based on the poem by Robert Frost, in the style of Johnny Cash.

Premiere: Thursday August 4th, 2006, 5:00pm
Straus Auditorium, Brevard Music Center
Evan Broadhead, baritone
Billie Whittaker, piano

In superstring theory, the entire universe is said to be the manifestation of the vibrations made by infitesimally small one-dimensional strings. This fanciful notion was the initial inspiration for the title Oscillations, which can also refer to many other things: most obviously, the vibrations of the piano strings themselves, but also the undulating chromatic gestures that span the entire range of the instrument and the chameleonic changes of idiom that spread through the landscape of the piece. There is an abstract quality to some of the more virtuosic passages that is perhaps related to my admittedly vague conception of string theory: the individual notes themselves too small, too quick to measure, yet in groups they cohere, collate, coagulate, forming a gesture, a texture, a structure, a world.

Premiere: Sunday November 6th, 2005, 8:00pm
USC Thornton School of Music Composers' Showcase
Alfred Newman Recital Hall, University of Southern California
Katalin Lukacs, piano