Julian Skar: Exhaust / Renew
Aurora

A collaborative endeavour involving composer Julian Skar, Norwegian pianist Ingrid Andsnes, and Ensemble Ernst (under the leadership of Thomas Rimul), Exhaust / Renew proves fascinating on many levels. Structurally, Skar's debut album as a composer is compelling: presented in four sections, the fifty-three-minute performance progresses from an initial solo exploration by Andsnes to subsequent sections where the compositional material is re-examined in piano trio, piano septet, and finally piano-and-sinfonietta configurations. Such a trajectory implies expansion, and while that is the case, said expansion doesn't happen linearly with by-the-numbers increases in dynamics, volume, and density; instead, instrumental resources are utilized less predictably such that the final section, for example, includes a number of passages pitched at a subdued level, the focus not on volume per se but on the intricacy of the instrument interactions.

Skar, who studied at The Norwegian Academy of Music and Berlin's Universität der Künste, retains footholds in both classical and popular music worlds. He's produced operas and musicals, has collaborated with Susanna Wallumrød, and has won two Spellemann awards (the Norwegian Grammy) as a member of Ensemble neoN. There's certainly no shortage of tension in his Exhaust / Renew. In keeping with a title that references depletion and regeneration, the performers surgically examine Skar's material and re-consider it from multiple angles using different instrumental setups.

Adding to the work's tension are multiple dichotomies at the very heart of its creation, ones involving the interplay between improvisation and notation, the human and non-human (i.e., computer), and chaos and order. The intuitive stages of the compositional process that might be likened to improvisation assume a fixed form when presented as sheet music to the performers, their playing in turn reflecting both the intuitive origins of the compositional process and the strict realization of the score as notated material. The score's content might be likened to a river branching out into multiple connecting tributaries or to a dense thicket of vines creeping up a wall, in both cases the design growing ever more complex and intertwined the greater its distance from the source. Themes voiced in the first part reemerge later as variations and deviations, the residue of the initial voicing still present yet newly imagined.

One's attention is immediately arrested when the three-part introductory section begins with Andsnes alternating between staccato, woodpecker-like knockings and plinked notes. Even at this early stage, tension is present in the conflict between the single-pitched insistence of the percussive treatment and the expansive flutter of the piano playing. The scene shifts abruptly for the central solo part, with the agitation of the first replaced by muted, pensive explorations that advance slowly, contrast now present in the combination of upper and lower registers. Stasis and movement are present, too, specifically in the juxtaposition of advancing piano patterns and a single-pitched drone that persists softly alongside the piano. The final part in the solo piano section advances aggressively, with notes and patterns bounding forth acrobatically.

For the eleven-minute piano trio section, her playing's augmented by violin and cello, their trajectories as unpredictable as the piano's. Yet, as mentioned, the addition of more voices doesn't produce a corresponding increase in volume or dynamics. If anything, some degree of reduction occurs in Andsnes's playing to establish a balanced presentation between the instruments. String plucks, high-pitched bowings, and trilling piano patterns interweave, the knocking figure from the beginning surfaces anew, and the trio's interlaced interactions exhibit a spidery character.

May 2018