The Fredösphere

Hey, here's something I didn't expect to find:  an album of the complete choral music of Elliott Carter.  It's a chance to approach from a new direction a composer I find unsympathetic.   Maybe I'll find something I can appreciate.  Let's see ... [puts CD in the 1990 vintage Discman ... listens for a while ... frowns] ... naw, I still hate 'im.

Either because this music was written before his severe style was developed, or because of concessions he made to the, uh, special needs of singers, the tonal instability is not paired with the oddball melodic intervals that we associate with atonality and, especially, serial music.  You hear plenty of perfect fifths on this album.

This peculiar kind of atonality stirs deep associations.  It takes me back to my childhood, to B&W television, monaural record players, and the kind of musical experimentation in the air at that time.  (Carter's music predates that time, proving he was in the vanguard.)  This music conveys a grayness; that's the best I can describe it.

Now, some people out there in internet land admire Elliott Carter.  Smart people.  People like Steven Hicken and Robert Gable of Aworks.  (Oh, wait:  Gable's enthusiasm is a bit nuanced.)   We can agree to disagree, can't we?  I'm certainly not going to argue that Carter's precision-tooled music is bad.  I suppose my reaction to this album is one of relief:  I found some Elliott Carter music that is relatively comprehensible, and I still dislike it.  I can't be accused of stupidity or laziness -- not in this case, anyway!  Yee-ha!