Brian Sacawa, Saxophone

American Voices

Innova 675

philip glass

1. Piece in the Shape of a Square (11:58)

lee hyla

2. Pre-Amnesia (2:15)

erik spangler

3. pastlife laptops and attic instruments (13:46)

chris theofanidis

Netherland

4. I. a stream of pulses, labored, intense (6:06)

5. II. brutal; swirling, out of focus (5:02)

derek hurst

6. Bacchanalia Skiapodorum (9:06)

keeril makan

7. Voice Within Voice (8:53)

michael gordon

8. The Low Quartet (8:19)

Total time: 65:25

Most instruments battle their share of stereotyping, but the saxophone suffers especially in this regard. The instrument carries around with it a whole suitcase of complex and contradictory associations—soundtracking both our most dramatic seductions and our most painful root canals.

Setting aside for a moment the music produced by the jazz and improv scenes and focusing only on work written for the concert stage, the weight of the typecasting may shift, but it doesn’t exactly get any lighter. There’s a whole world of repertoire, but it lives a largely insular existence among aficionados. It’s rare that a composition draws the saxophone out of its ghetto and asks that it engage in a meaningful dialogue with the wider musical world. So when a player has put in the years of study required and feels ready to start speaking in his own voice, he is forced to take the instrument out of his mouth for a moment and consider some serious questions: Who am I as an artist? How do I want to contribute? What do I expect to accomplish? Or at least these are the questions Brian Sacawa found himself asking when he set to work recording this album, his first solo effort. “I had reached that point,” he explains. “I felt ready. I needed to make a statement about who I was—and am.”

Though he’s mastered the flashy pyrotechnics typical of the instrument’s showpieces, he struggles to find work that projects the genuine passion and intensity he’s seeking. “I don’t care if it’ll dazzle with technique,” he confesses. “I’m looking for the kind of things that really warrant the violinist or cellist taking that hugely audible breath before they play something. The kind of stuff that makes you get goosebumps and want to scream, ‘Yes!’ “

Sacawa went looking for music that captures that brand of complex energy to create this album, and in doing so has clarified what defines him as a musician. To start, he has focused on getting his instrument out of the sand trap it often finds itself in by selecting work by living American composers who reach a broad audience base. He did so even if it meant—as it did in the cases of both the Philip Glass and the Michael Gordon works included on the disc—taking existing pieces scored for other instruments and arranging them for the saxophone himself. Together with the extraordinary works penned specifically for the instrument by Lee Hyla and Chris Theofanidis, Sacawa manages to stack his deck.

Into this mix, however, he has added another element to keep things interesting: composers his own age who tackle writing for the saxophone with fresh ears. In that vein, Sacawa includes an intense live recording of a work by Erik Spangler during which the player is cajoled and taunted by all manner of sonic detritus. Derek Hurst plays the game a bit differently, asking Sacawa to deliver virtuosic instrumental lines in a more nuanced tango with electronic sounds. Keeril Makan (who learned to play the saxophone, in his own way, just to write this piece) sidesteps the technological gadgetry altogether and focuses on the intricacies of organic breath. It is a process that seems to drag Sacawa’s very soul out through his mouth for us to have a look at.

Ultimately what Sacawa has done with this collection of pieces is take a running jump at the instrument in a move to knock it clear of its concert hall stereotypes. As these sorts of experiments tend to go, he very well might have fallen on his ass. But instead he has assembled a collection of music so infused with emotional energy that listeners might even find themselves getting goosebumps and thinking, “Yes, that’s it exactly.”

– Molly Sheridan

–

Piece in the Shape of a Square

Philip Glass

Saxophonists are thieves. From Bach to Berio, and everything in between, we enjoy co-opting works written for other instruments and shamelessly passing them off as our own. Philip Glass has written his fair share for the saxophone so there really was no good reason for me to steal one of his pieces other than my own selfishness. But when I heard a recording of the flute version of Piece in the Shape of a Square all bets were off. “That would sound great on saxophone,” I thought. (Actually, what I really thought was: “That would sound much better on the saxophone.”) The piece is vintage minimalism. The opening motive gradually gets displaced to the point where its original straightforward catchiness changes into a mesmerizing rhythmic duel between both voices. What follows is a process in which melodic fragments transform into a canon at the eighth note before the voices cross, swap roles, and continue on their way. – B.S.

Pre-Amnesia

Lee Hyla

When deciding what to include on this disc, I knew that I desperately wanted to record something by Lee Hyla. I’m a big fan of his gestures and the absolute unfettered rawness in his writing, which no doubt stems from his roots in rock and roll. While his most well known piece for saxophone is We Speak Etruscan, a raucous duo for baritone saxophone and bass clarinet, I wondered whether he’d written anything else for the instrument. That’s when I unearthed this little gem. It’s an aggressive piece that displays a sort of unconventional virtuosity with its wide register leaps, unapologetic outbursts, extreme dynamic shifts, and manic mood changes. And all that in a work that clocks in at just over two minutes. – B.S.

pastlife laptops and attic instruments

Erik Spangler

The laptop on which I am writing recently had a stroke. I have no idea when it will die from its internal electrical burns, but my dependence on it allows me little time to take it in for repair.

The tools at our disposal are so ephemeral, every new piece of technology so ripe for obsolescence. I was able to salvage one last sound file off of my previous laptop before it crapped out. That sound made it into the mix you are about to hear (or are listening to currently). Something of this situation was in my mind from the beginning of the composition process.

Digital creations have something of the impermanence of a Tibetan sand mandala. While I am caught in the web of Babylonian technology, I also aim to work in the spirit of detachment from object-grasping, using the tools at my disposal with the intention to uplift and make heads nod.

This piece owes its existence to an ephemeral piece of digital technology called Final Scratch. This is a program/device that allows the user to manipulate sound files, stored on a computer, through the physical interface of two turntables and a mixer. Using specially grooved vinyl, the computer can recognize exactly where the needle is on the record and instantly responds to any changes in speed or direction. A sound file can thus be mapped onto each turntable and controlled by normal DJ techniques, cutting the channels with the mixer.

This technological circumstance suggested a creative path as follows:

1. Compose drum patterns and bass line (assembled in Reason program), with some found-sounds mixed in.

2. Write out exposition of melodic material for alto saxophone, to be played over electronic mix.

3. Record Brian playing the written out exposition plus an improvisation on the material.

4. Cut up the recorded phrases, filtering and triggering them polyphonically over the drum patterns, bass line, etc., in the Reason program.

5. Record additional layers by scratching with Brian’s phrases on the turntable, and additional scratch layers using freshly-recorded sounds (such as individual strata from the mix) as well as old records of John Cage, World Saxophone Quartet, etc., thus completing the playback electronic part.

6. Compose the full saxophone part, developed through cutting-up/rearranging/extending/linking ideas from the exposition, interpolated with some material notated from Brian’s recorded improvisation (somewhat transformed). An element of live improvisation is also called for in sections of the score. Contour lines are introduced to suggest transformations of material “in the fingers” from other parts of the score, in dialogue with the electronic mix.

7. Performance: piece may be played with electronic part as is, or, with live turntables scratching/mixing an additional improvisatory layer. — Erik Spangler

Netherland

Chris Theofanidis

Both movements are very intense and demand a great deal of focus and energy from the soloist. The first movement, “a stream of pulses; labored, intense,” places the lyrical, freely flowing writing of the saxophone against a very rigorous piano part. The tension comes primarily from the piano, which although is basically rooted in a quarter-note pulse, often interrupts itself with momentary pulses at other speeds.

The second movement, “brutal; swirling, out of focus” is quite fast and dizzyingly chromatic, placing the saxophonist in a sea of running notes with a very tenuous center of gravity. The general feeling is frenetic and out of control, and this intensity pushes to the very last note of the piece, which is almost like a scream of desperation. The combative nature of the dialogue between the saxophonist and the pianist further exacerbates the chaos of this movement.

Bacchanalia Skiapodorum

Derek Hurst

Bacchanalia Skiapodorum (for alto sax and electronic sound) was written for Brian Sacawa in an attempt to highlight the qualities of the alto saxophone as well as his virtuosity on the instrument. The electronic component is written so as to provide a mutable cohort to the live instrument by weaving through musical textures that fluctuate between episodes of implied timbral extension of the sax and slithery frenetic counterpoint, in a manner which may conjure images of anthropoidal megamonopods* doing what comes naturally when gathered in large numbers—that is skiapods of a certain age. The electronic part was realized using samples, digital synthesis in Csound (with modifications made to Horner’s Csound wind instrument algorithm) and Pro Tools.

*Skiapodes (shadowfooted man: a.k.a. Antipodes / Sciapods / Monocoli) are first referred to by Herodotus as creatures with one massive leg at whose end appeared an even greater (webbed) foot, which when lying on its back, shades the skiapod from the intense afternoon sun. Initial accounts were connected with travels into what were the far-off reaches of the interior African continent. An engraving that appears in John de Mandeville’s “Travels” (ca. 1357) depicts a basking skiapod on his back pulling the single leg towards his head. The simple stylized lines of the image oddly suggest a saxophonist who is tilted backwards, poised to play the musical deathblow.

Voice Within Voice

Keeril Makan

In Voice Within Voice, the saxophone is treated as a megaphone for the performer’s singing and breathing. The piece starts exclusively with inhalation. As the work proceeds, two changes emerge. First, the voice inhalations are balanced by voiced exhalation. The teeth and lips of the saxophonist come into play, so that the piece moves from singing to a complex combination of singing, playing, and wailing. The end of the work focuses on exhalation and the timbres that arise from the player’s teeth on the reed of the instrument. We witness a journey from the inside of the performer’s body to its very extremities.

The Low Quartet

Michael Gordon

The Low Quartet is a celebration of the rich, low, reedy register of the bass instruments—the register that usually carries the flow line that holds up the busier stuff on top. I thought it was time to give them some action—a clumsy, fast-moving, hard-driving dance, like fat cows grooving. I wrote The Low Quartet for the low instruments of the world.

BIOS

Praised by The New York Times as “an inventive musician,” “fresh and surprising,” and “vividly lyrical,” saxophonist Brian Sacawa has firmly established himself as an important contemporary voice for his instrument. Active internationally as a soloist, recitalist, and chamber musician, his versatile career has led to appearances ranging from the concert hall to club settings as well as the premieres of over 50 new works for saxophone by both established and emerging composers. Mr. Sacawa’s critically acclaimed, Grammy-winning recordings can be heard on the Naxos, Innova, Equilibrium, and BiBimBop record labels. He holds degrees from the University of Michigan, the Peabody Conservatory, and the University of Massachusetts—Amherst and is the co-founder of the new music duos Non-Zero with percussionist Tim Feeney and Hybrid Groove Project with composer/turntablist DJ Dubble8. Mr. Sacawa currently resides in Baltimore and serves on the faculty of the University of Maryland Baltimore County.

DJ Dubble8 (a.k.a. Erik Spangler) is a composer and turntablist whose hybrid soundscapes thrive on a unique blend of experimental and popular influences. Samples from old vinyl records, programmed drum patterns, newly composed acoustic layers, and synthetic sound elements are all subject to live time-bending through digital turntable manipulation. Dubble8’s acoustic compositions have been performed across the United States and Canada by ensembles including the Atlantic Brass Quintet, Boston Modern Orchestra Project, International Contemporary Ensemble, Calithumpian Consort, and the yesaroun’ duo. He has performed his own music in solo DJ sets across the United States, at venues as diverse as clubs, galleries, and university concert halls.

A native of Chengdu, China, pianist Wenli Zhou began her early musical training at the Sichuan Conservatory. Since coming to the United States, she has garnered numerous prizes and awards from international competitions and has performed in many important venues, including Carnegie Hall, Columbia University’s Miller Theater, the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, Liszt Academy of Budapest, and in cities throughout Japan, Poland, Canada, China, and the United States. Ms. Zhou holds degrees from the University of Michigan, Western Michigan University and is currently pursuing the Doctoral of Musical Arts at Rice University under the guidance of Robert Roux.

CREDITS

Producer: Brian Sacawa

Engineer: Robert Martens

Recorded, edited, and mixed at Solid Sound Inc., Ann Arbor, Mich.

Mastered at World Class Tapes, Ann Arbor, Mich.

pastlife laptops and attic instruments was recorded live at the Duderstadt Center Video and Performance Studio in Ann Arbor, Mich. on October 20, 2004 by Tom Bray (board) and Dave Schall (room) and mixed more than exceptionally by Eric Wojahn at Solid Sound.

Recorded July 16, 2004 (Glass & Gordon), May 31, 2005 (Theofanidis, Hyla & Hurst), June 15, 2005 (Makan)

Cover and tray photography: Youngna Park

Still image from pastlife laptops performance video by Tom Bray

Innova is supported by an endowment from the McKnight Foundation.

Philip Blackburn: innova Director, layout

Chris Campbell: Operations Manager

Supported in part by a grant from the New York State Music Fund, established by the New York State Attorney General at Rockefeller Philanthropy Advisors.

Very special thanks to Rob (for his ears), Eric (for his skill), Wenli (for her artistry), Dubble8 (for his vision) and Molly (for her words).

Along the way we meet people with whom we collaborate and who continually inspire us (Ken, Hillary, Beata, Keeril, Derek, DeKam, Feeney) and mentor us and teach us everything they know and more (Donald Sinta, Gary Louie, Lynn Klock, Wayne Tice) and offer friendship, advice, and help along the way (Loran McClung, Andy Mead, Jerry Bowles, S21, LTSQ (Chris, Bobby & Erik), Kelland, Richard Crawford, Steve, Chief, and the rest of TDS, Ten Eyck) and who are generous because they believe in what we do (Mrs. Mary Teal, Doris Bargen and Allen Guttmann, Mrs. Madeline Hartnett and Family, Joe and Julie Kilcullen, Joseph Lam and Amy Stillman, the Peabody Institute, and the Rislov Foundation). And then there are those people for whom no words can express the gratitude one feels (see below).

For my parents.