Issued for the first time on CD courtesy of Arkivmusic.com and Sony/BMG, the 1967 release Extended Voices features works for chorus and for voices altered by electronic means, featuring the Brandeis University Chamber Chorus, conducted by composer Alvin Lucier. I owned the original LP a long time ago, and it’s interesting to reconnect with these works from a 2014 perspective.
For example, the restless, constantly shifting sonorities in Lucier’s North American Time Capsule 1967 have nothing to do with the uncompromisingly glacial, slow-moving soundscapes for which he is known today. Those who associate Morton Feldman with the marathon-length pieces of his last years will find his two short choral selections just as sparse and harmonically subtle. Perhaps the non-verbal vocal gestures throughout Pauline Oliveros’ Sound Patterns sound a little dated and naïve, but you perceive the kernels of what she went on to develop in greater depth and seriousness.
When I first heard the Robert Ashley piece years ago, with its soft, slowly unfolding choral background and the spoken phrase “she was a visitor” endlessly repeated, I thought it was pretentious baloney, but now I see the roots of his highly regarded text operas. Frankly, I cannot warm to the title piece, which seems like a progression of sound effects that overstay their welcome, and it’s not really representative of Toshi Ichyanagi’s best work, such as his amazing solo piece Piano Media.
The best part about Solos for Voice is the imaginative panning back and forth between left and right loudspeakers (even more effective with headphones), but you’d never know that you were hearing an electronic realization of a John Cage piece unless you looked at the contents listing. Without a scorecard, so to speak, it’s just another anonymous 13-minute random ramble through patches of sustained static, bloops, bleeps, swoops, and squeaks, plus a wide palette of sawtooth belches and farts. Unlike most electronic music program booklet notes made up of technical verbiage and philosophical nonsense, Lucier’s annotations tell us how each piece is made in simple, precise, and clear English.
