TIMARA a bit too technical

Student works flee from conventionalism

Electronic music has a history longer than most people might suspect. Pioneered by French modernists in the early part of the century, it was originally conceived as the arrangement of "sound" rather than notes to form something with a message and purpose; in short, a willful and discordant rebellion against almost all traditional music.

People like John Cage and Philip Glass (not to mention Frank Zappa) brought the genre to wider recognition, if not acceptance, as the synthesizer age began and those funny blips seemed to be everywhere. It was given a beat and brought to the dance floor, and finally garnered popularity when arranged in traditional forms and given lyrics. The "art of noise" has been tamed and accepted by mainstream America.

At the TIMARA concert on Wednesday evening, however, student composers sought to bring electronic music back to its roots. Only one composer, Joshua McFadden, actually appeared on stage, and he in jeans and a t-shirt - a marked difference from traditional concerts. He was also the only person whose composition, "Small Bells of Sunrise," was actually presented "live" - with a programmed MIDI background and MIDI-ized clarinet solo.

Wednesday's composers made a conscious effort to escape conventional music. The best piece performed, "Rainsong," by Conservatory sophomore Colin Wilkinson, featured a vacuum cleaner-like drone overlaid with organ and whispering spirits; random bursts of noise broke the quiet tone. "Trip to the Source," by Conservatory sophomore Jim Altieri, consisted of rising and falling wind sounds, leading into a feedback coda. A heartbeat motif and inventively panned demonic breathing noises distinguished Sharon Levinson's "From Within;" a heartbeat motif, gradually deteriorating into uneven thumps, also formed the base for the quite enjoyable Chinese/African-sounding percussion piece "Handfasting I" by Conservatory junior Kate Peterson.

Unfortunately, many of the problems that plague popular electronic music also showed themselves in these more "highbrow" compositions. While the first minute or so of songs like "Trip to the Source" or "From Within" were undeniably interesting, after they had gone on with little change for ten minutes, the listener's mind tends to wander; nothing distinguishes the eighth minute from the third. Ceaseless repetition does not lead the listener into a state of wonder and emotion, as the composers might have hoped, but rather into boredom.

One of the worst offenders on this count was "Seeds of Paranoia" by Conservatory senior Ray Sweeten, with text by Jerry Siegel, who also read his text in a voice often muddled and unclear. The text itself was a pseudo-poetic rant which seemed to concern babies. The composer saw fit to repeat this text (at least five minutes long) twice, with only a slight overlay of select phrases, and little if any musical accompaniment.

Another problem with the compositions was that the composers seemed to find a sound they liked and drive it into the ground; while wind noises are neat for a while, there's only so much you can do with them. Introducing other instruments would have made pieces like this much more interesting.

Perhaps going with one sound isn't so bad - after all, many more successful songs use but one or two instruments. And indeed it wouldn't have been if these compositions weren't simply modulated and phase-shifted noise. Even the ones that did seem to have notes would have been all right with some form of melody, or at least an interesting progression once in a while. As it was, they were just random notes, a series of banged tones without any apparent thought put into where they would sound.

What many people - artists included - don't realize is that there is a difference between abstract art that makes an audience say, "I could've done that," and abstract art that makes an audience say, "I wish I had done that." Calling something with no beauty or meaning art simply to give it one or both of these qualities is unconscionable. The majority of Wednesday's composers might want to take this thought to heart before the next concert rolls around.