The Music of George Crumb

_{Fig. 1: George Crumb!}

One of my favorite composers, whose music I can turn to time and time again for inspiration and listening pleasure, is George Crumb. Crumb (b. 1929) is an American composer often labeled as avant-garde, a genre essentially devoted to pushing boundaries and expanding what is traditionally even thought of as “music.” Unless you are a devout lover of the avant-garde, however, I sometimes fear that this label carries a certain stigma about it, namely that creations of the avant-garde may be too difficult to understand by the average listener, or worse yet, that they are not even worth the time it would take to try to understand them.

I don’t deny that avant-garde music can be shocking, but certainly it is worth far more than an immediate rejection by those who find that it irredeemably tests their personal definition of “music.” The first work of Crumb’s that I ever heard was Black Angels (1970) for electric (or amplified) string quartet, and my first reaction to the slicing wails fleeing from my computer speakers was also one of shock. Seeing the score later definitely opened my eyes; Crumb is one of those composers whose scores will revolutionize your perspective of each work. Most of his scores are beautifully handcrafted and explore a phenomenal range of extended techniques or external effects independent of the instrumentation (such as vocalizations by non-vocal performers). Without looking at the score of Black Angels or reading the program notes, it’s highly doubtful that a listener could detect, for example, the numerology woven into the construction of the piece through Crumb’s emphasis of the numbers 7 and 13. Seeing this particular score also increased my appreciation of the numerous extended techniques demanded of the quartet. Here is Part I: Departure of this work.


_{Fig. 2: George Crumb, Black Angels, Part I: Departure}

If you listen closely after the 4’30” mark, you’ll be able to hear several quotes of Dies Irae (which are also helpfully identified in the score).

This brings me to another point that became clear to me as I analyzed more of Crumb’s work: in addition to his extended or unusual techniques, he also uses less radical methods such as traditional forms and musical quotations. In Black Angels, for example, Pavana Lachrymae section references the traditional pavane, a slow, processional dance; and as I mentioned before, Dies Irae is also later quoted.

For these reasons alone I find it difficult to pigeonhole Crumb as solely avant-garde. His compositional style may be better described as a synthesis of tradition and innovation.

Above all, what appeals to me is the organic nature of his music. Crumb is very much concerned with the “sound spaces” in which compositions grow, and often this is assisted by his unique and exotic instrumentations and prevalent use of extended techniques. This is likely the most significant reason that his music is such a great inspiration to me (this, and his remarkable ability of text expression and depiction, in his lyric settings). One of my favorite moments in Ancient Voices of Children is in the fourth movement, in the beginning of which he creates a beautiful texture over a low marimba drone with a gentle melody for the soprano and an interesting timbral exchange between a harmonica and a vocal effect from the percussionists. (Sorry, I can’t find a Youtube sample of this, but a recording should be available on Naxos.)

Processional (the piece on our midterm listening!) is the first piano piece by Crumb I’ve heard that does not delve into inside-piano techniques. It is essentially structured as A B A’ B’: the first section contains a constant rhythmic pulse and motivic groups that emerge over this texture, gradually growing more complex, and the second section features percussive block chords leaping through the piano’s registers and interesting echo effects created through sharp decrescendos or rapid descents or ascents. The first six notes of this work function as an underlying harmonic structure throughout the rest of the piece, although this set undergoes several modulations, and it tends to imply parts of a wholetone scale (the intervallic relationship is M2, M2, M2, m3, M2, M2, M2 and because of the m3 leap, it actually seems to capture one half of each wholetone scale, i.e. Gb, Ab, Bb, Db, Eb, F). The only extended technique that this piece utilizes is the creation of harmonics in the “B” sections by silently depressing the exact chord that is played by the other hand, except in a different register. The result is subtle, but contributes to that kind of “echo effect” that recurs throughout these sections. Here’s a sample from the score where this technique occurs (also demonstrating Crumb’s pristine hand notation):

_{Fig. 3: George Crumb’s Processional; page 3, end of system 2}

Overall, Processional successfully explores the colors of the piano through sections of contrasting articulation and harmonic palettes.

I could rave on and on about George Crumb, but I’ll refrain for now. If you are interested in taking a look at his other works, I highly recommend Quest and Unto the Hills, for starters. I also own the score to Ancient Voices of Children if you would like to see an example in person of his beautiful craftsmanship. Happy listening!