By Niel Orb

Eleven Conservatory students performed the complete Sequenzas of Luciano Berio in a set of three concerts last Sunday. Organized by Aaron Helgeson and Brendan Nguyen, these concerts represented the culmination of a huge undertaking. These works are widely acknowledged as being among the most challenging in the contemporary repertoire. And now for a recap of the final concert – in verse, of course.

Last Sunday, new music fans shut off their stereos,
And headed to Finney (it all happens there, you knows)
To hear some sequenzas — Luciano Berio’s.

These works, written over the last 50 years
Are so difficult they bring players to tears!
For sheer virtuosity, these pieces lack peers.

With the third set of Sequenzas, Berio day ended.
It began with a work that magnificently blended
Theater and music. The trombonist Scott Glenn did

A splendid job playing, standing alone,
Delivering a soliloquy with his trombone.
Berio gave this one a contemplative tone

By having the player, who plays the first half on his

feet,
Say the phrase “Why?” and then take a seat,
Then continue to bleat ‘til the piece is complete.

Glenn did a good job, wielding his mute.
He injected some sadness into each isolated “toot.”
As well, on his runs, he was quite astute.

The viola sequenza was much more frenetic.
From the start, its rough tremolos sound schizophrenic.
The violist, Glenda Goodman, was quite energetic

As she leaped around her fingerboard,
Sawing away at dissonant chord,
Mustering all the tension she could afford,

To give justice to this sequenza.
Since listening to such tough works expends a
Lot of energy, this concert wasn’t senza.

Intermission.

Now what, you may ask, is a sequenza?
Imagine a contemporary solo cadenza.
Berio takes this idea and extends the

Capacities of the instrument, calling for techniques
Like pushing down a violin bow until it squeaks—
In some of the Sequenzas, the performer even speaks!

It’s the sounds, not just pitch that create each work’s

drama
For a pitch-focused sequenza is like a wind-surfing

llama —
It’s something about which you’d write home to mama!

Does saying that make me a Berio naysayer?
No! For there’s an intense dramatic layer
In each of these monologues for instrument and player.

In half 2, Peter Evans played the sequenza for C

trumpet
And piano resonance, in which you take the trumpet’s

sound and dump it
Into the resonant bed of a piano. As for this effect, he

decided to bump it

For Michael Gallope, who was brought in to improvise
A “resonance” on a keyboard. Those who are wise
Know that this was not merely a compromise.

(Indeed, being improvisers, these two guys
See the score more for what it implies!)
There are, however, those who would criticize

Them, saying the electronic timbre was a pest,
Distracting from one’s focus or that they messed
With the “solo” conception by adding a guest!

However, the trumpet was played with finesse
And the keyboard sounds added them own little zest.
Such a drone was needed for the piece, I guess.

Indeed, Evans was one of the finest among
The performers that night. His smooth flutter-tongue
And control of high notes really swung.

But the final sequenza, written two years ago,
Played by Chris Gross of the violoncello,
(the piece has been played only four times or so,

In public — it’s unpublished, in fact)
Was the grand finale, the great final act.
This piece can’t be played — it must be attacked,

For its difficulty is legendary. Its tempo’s absurd!
Upon first seeing it, Chris said, “What the [f-word]!?”
His fingers moved so swiftly, they appeared to be

blurred

As he hammered the string, without aid of bow
And struck, with his right hand, the cello below.
The sound was a rumble, like nothing I know.

All in all, the concert was a grand success,
though one wishes this exciting new music was

blessed
With more of an audience, a concern unaddressed.