Morton Feldman's marathon piece For Philip Guston is a study in contrasts – an endurance test that defies conventional notions of length, with its four-and-a-half-hour duration stretching even the most iron-willed listeners. And yet, paradoxically, the work exhibits an economy of sound, where every note and motif takes on multiple lives, like echoes reverberating through an ever-sparse sonic tapestry.
For those who have braved the grueling listening experience, however, a more nuanced reality emerges. The slow-burning tempo, consistently quiet dynamics, and complex rhythms conspire to create an almost hypnotic atmosphere, where moments of absolute synchrony become fleeting miracles. It's only when we're fully immersed in this world that Feldman's genius begins to unfold.
This is music that resists easy interpretation – no small feat given the work's sheer length. Yet, as a performer navigates its labyrinthine landscape, subtle shifts and surprises emerge. The subtle interplay between Taylor MacLennan's flutes, Siwan Rhys and George Barton's shifting instrumental arsenal, and the delicately textured soundscapes that bind them all together, are nothing short of revelatory.
The connection to Philip Guston, Feldman's closest friend until their artistic differences drove them apart, adds another layer of depth to this work. A live performance like this one underscores the impossibility of complete abstraction in music – a reminder that even the most austere works must still evoke some response from the human experience.
In short, For Philip Guston is an endurance test that yields rewards for those willing to take it on – rewards not just for their patience and focus but also for their ears. Those who have braved this sonic marathon will be left with a newfound appreciation for Feldman's minimalist masterpieces, where the subtlety of sound becomes the very essence of its power.
For those who have braved the grueling listening experience, however, a more nuanced reality emerges. The slow-burning tempo, consistently quiet dynamics, and complex rhythms conspire to create an almost hypnotic atmosphere, where moments of absolute synchrony become fleeting miracles. It's only when we're fully immersed in this world that Feldman's genius begins to unfold.
This is music that resists easy interpretation – no small feat given the work's sheer length. Yet, as a performer navigates its labyrinthine landscape, subtle shifts and surprises emerge. The subtle interplay between Taylor MacLennan's flutes, Siwan Rhys and George Barton's shifting instrumental arsenal, and the delicately textured soundscapes that bind them all together, are nothing short of revelatory.
The connection to Philip Guston, Feldman's closest friend until their artistic differences drove them apart, adds another layer of depth to this work. A live performance like this one underscores the impossibility of complete abstraction in music – a reminder that even the most austere works must still evoke some response from the human experience.
In short, For Philip Guston is an endurance test that yields rewards for those willing to take it on – rewards not just for their patience and focus but also for their ears. Those who have braved this sonic marathon will be left with a newfound appreciation for Feldman's minimalist masterpieces, where the subtlety of sound becomes the very essence of its power.