It was strangely fitting: I'd just sent an e-mail to Splendid's writing staff, bemoaning the proliferation of cookie-cutter indie rock in our "to be reviewed" pile -- and the proportionate lack of edgy, experimental music -- when Ode to the Sistrum took its appointed turn in my CD player. And as experimental music goes, Ode to the Sistrum is one of the most enjoyable discs I've heard in ages.
Ode... is a companion piece to the art exhibition "Richard Dunlap: A Retrospective for Eyes and Ears", which ran last year in Santa Barbara. Both a visual and a sonic artist, Dunlap has also worked with Headless Household, whose music has been reviewed in these pages in the past.
Though they're sufficiently disjointed and dischordant to encourage listeners to toss around the word "experimental", Dunlap's compositions fit fairly comfortably into the "modern orchestral" oeuvre. Dunlap seems to prefer the sensual pleasures of rich, full, bell-like musical tones and altered time signatures over bone-jarring explosions of metallic dischord, long silences punctuated by anonymous tapping, or other similarly audience-unfriendly creative indulgences. For example, Ode to the Sistrum has no compositions for broken glass, belt sander, raw meat and 17th century Spanish chair-leg-milling-machines. "Walk on Chairs" tosses a few audio samples in among its layers of edgy piano, but even the ensuing conflagration of jazz samples, piano, microtonal xylophone and other instruments retains a fundamental "musicality" -- there are recognizable melodies upon which newcomers can latch.
Similarly, "Passage (for Edie Rickey)" includes circular saw blades on its list of sonic elements, but there's nothing cacophonous about it. A heavenly concoction of bell-like keyboard and marimba tones, chorused vocals and elegant orchestrations, "Passage" challenges not with its basic sound, but its mountain-goat leaps between developing themes. Don't be surprised that it's gorgeous; this is, after all, music as art, and it's a mistake to assume that challenging musical art must by default be "ugly".
Other works of note include "Interplay", an angular duel between two pianos playing related, seemingly graduated progressions. Once again, it's unexpectedly musical, as is "Vox Flux", a chugging rhythm assembled from bits and pieces of manipulated vocals. The title cut is another winner; heavy on the rich, ringing tones -- it features xylophone, microtonal bell and microtonal piano -- "Ode to the Sistrum" divulges a frenetic percussive-bell narrative that'll send little electric currents through your skin.
Be aware that some of Ode to the Sistrum's more conventional melodies veer new age-ward. Though they never reach the saccharine predictability of Yanni territory, some listeners might find this -- and indeed the presence of any deliberate conventional melody -- offputting. Others will be seized by the urge to enjoy Dunlap's music in tandem with his visual art, and will wish that Ode to the Sistrum's production budget had provided for a CD-ROM multimedia presentation that would display visuals in tandem with the music. However, until that comes along, most listeners should be surprisingly satisfied with Ode... -- it's one of those rare discs that challenges while it satisfies (and vice versa).
