Gregory Oakes: Aesthetic Apparatus: Clarinet Chamber Music of Helmut Lachenmann

Some of the most challenging music of recent years—challenging to play as well as to listen to—has been written by German composer Helmut Lachenmann (b. 1935). The conceptual core of much of his music has consisted in laying bare the conditions underlying and assumed by music production—essentially, the physical prerequisites of performance practice, as well as the determinations, both accepted and rejected, of genre. For Lachenmann, musical sound is a complex of factors reaching back within the tradition or genre in relation to which it is created, and reaching forward into the moment—the physical situation of specific possibilities and the choices they elicit—in which it is actually produced. Thus the title of his book of writings, which translates as “music as existential experience.” This standpoint puts extraordinary demands on the performer, who must be familiar with all the aspects and resources his or her instrument has to offer. With Aesthetic Apparatus, a set of three Lachenmann compositions, clarinetist Gregory Oakes takes up the challenge.

Oakes, who is principal clarinetist for the Des Moines Symphony Orchestra as well as an assistant professor of clarinet at Iowa State University in Ames, is particularly interested in contemporary art music. Much of his repertoire is the product of collaboration with currently active composers, and he seems especially drawn to new music that assumes a broad notion of what kinds of sounds are permissible in the concert hall. Thus Lachenmann’s music is a natural fit for him.

The affinity between Oakes and Lachenmann’s sound world is immediately apparent with the first piece, 1970’s Dal Niente (Interieur III) for solo clarinet. The composition calls for a number of extended techniques for the instrument, many of which involve the sounds of breath on the borderline of silence. In his liner note, Oakes points out that the title of the piece derives from a musical marking that translates as “from nothing;” his performance accordingly pivots on the flux of sounds proceeding from and returning to nothing. The Trio Fluido for clarinet, viola and percussion of 1966, in which Oakes is joined by violist Jonathan Sturm and Matthew Coley on marimba, also centers on sound but in a more assertive way. The piece begins with a fragmented Modernist counterpoint that, through a kind of compositional auto-deconstruction, gradually dissolves into abstract sound. What’s striking about the piece is its underlying consistency; the division of the three voices focuses attention on their individual timbral characteristics, whether played conventionally or with the extended techniques that come to dominate the final third or so of the performance. The interplay among the three performers manages to be both refined and (subtly) dramatic. The final performance, the nearly 32 minute long Allegro Sostenuto (1986/1988), is a trio for clarinet, cello (George Work) and piano (Mei-Hsuan Huang) that Lachenmann has described as mediating between resonance and movement. The piece begins as an archipelago of rapid bursts, truncated phrases and points of sound that accumulate and build length and mass over time. The resonance inheres in the individuation of each of the three instruments, which is helped by the three players’ precise articulation. Here as on all three pieces, Oakes plays with a fine-grained, well-modulated and vivid sound.

— Daniel Barbiero, 3.05.2018

The first thing that may strike the listener accustomed to Lachenmann’s texturally dense, noise and cluster-laden large-scale, more recent works, is how relatively little there is of that kind of thing in these relatively early works with clarinet. Trio fluido, from the late 1960s, almost sounds like a ‘conventional’ piece of chamber music of the time; atonal, but with textures built up from complex rhythmic relationships between parts; some limited extended techniques appear only later in the piece, as though the composer was developing increasing confidence with these methods in the course of the piece. Textures are subtle, simple and open, and undemonstrative; silence, or the approach to silence of a fading note or chord, is very important. Dal Niente, from 1970, is a virtuosic exploration of how a world of new sounds for the clarinet can emerge ‘from nothing’, and here breath sounds, key and tongue slaps and other extended techniques predominate. The half-hour Allegro sostenuto dates from the late 1980s, and is sonically more typical of the composer. The early stages of the piece are an obsessive examination of how notes start and, more particularly, finish; the approach to silence is an evolution of that encountered in the trio. Structurally the work follows a distinct dramatic arc, with six sections each with its own sound-world, leading up to an aggressive climax—the kind of viscerally exciting tumult that Lachenmann does so well—and then retreating into the fragmented sounds of the opening.

Helmut Lachenmann (1935- ) is a composer who has been “on my radar” for some years now but, like a lot of names I get, I had yet to hear much of his music. Along comes Gregory Oakes from, of all places, Iowa. The Midwest in the United States doesn’t have much of a reputation for embracing the avant garde (though they actually do). So into the CD player goes this one and…wow, I really need to hear more Lachenmann and whoever this Oakes guy is I want to pay attention to what he is doing with that clarinet.
Admittedly this disc languished a bit before I heard it but I am now glad I did.

This disc consists of only three tracks comprising three works by this major German composer from three different periods in his career. Dal Niente (Interiur III), Trio Fluido, and Allegro Sostenuto.

Dal Niente (1970) is for solo clarinet and, as the title prescribes, the music is to be played as “from nothing” the meaning of the title. In fact this seems to be practically a textbook of extended techniques for the clarinet. But far from being a dull accounting of dry techniques, this is a tour de force which will challenge the skills of even the most experienced players. It is quite musical and listenable but the virtuosity will knock your socks off. Oakes pulls it off with a deceptive ease that demonstrates his rather profound knowledge of his instrument. It is easy to see the seeming cross pollination between the avant garde and free jazz here.

Next up is Trio Fluido (1966-68) which is a respectably avant garde trio for clarinet, viola, and percussion with Matthew Coley, percussion, and Jonathan Sturm, viola. Like the previous work this one is also about extended techniques (for all three instruments this time). This is a fine example of mid-twentieth century modernism and deserves a place in the repertoire. All three musicians are challenged to play their instruments in unconventional ways and the effect is almost like some of the electronic music of the era. It is a complex and pointillistic texture that has a strong and serious content.

Finally Allegro Sostenuto (1986-88) is another trio, this time for clarinet, cello, and piano. So while this work would make a fine companion work to the Brahms clarinet trio the work is unambiguously avant garde in the finest Darmstadt traditions. It is, at about 30 minutes, the longest piece here and it reflects the further maturity of the composer as he creates another challenging but almost surprisingly satisfying work.

This album serves as a nice way to be introduced to Helmut Lachenmann and to get to know some major new champions of the avant garde. And one would do well to stay informed about the work being done by this fine new music clarinetist.

— Allan J. Cronin, 11.20.2018

Taking on a single work of composer Helmut Lachenmann requires a certain kind of penchant for precision, patience and intensity. In combining not one but three of Lachenmann’s works into a single album, Gregory Oakes and a list of wonderful collaborators breathe life into music that many clarinetists might fear to explore. Oakes, on faculty at Iowa State University, is known by many clarinetists and composers as a renowned performer of contemporary music. His album Aesthetic Apparatus: Clarinet Chamber Music of Helmut Lachenmann brings listeners into the threads of Lachenmann’s work and the silences and spaces within it, making this album fascinating.

Oakes’s performance in Dal Niente (Interieur III) captures the essence of the title, which translates as “from nothing.” Through what seems like sometimes deafening silence, the subtle air sounds and crescendos from niente become inflection points. The openness of these silences is captivating, allowing one to appreciate the nuance in the work brought about by well-executed interpretation. Oakes’s variety of articulation helps to climb out of these valleys of silence. A sparse section can be interrupted by a singular high harmonic pop or a flurry of rapid attacks.

The second track, Trio Fluido, features fantastic ensemble playing from percussionist Matthew Coley and violist Jonathan Sturm. A fluid opening connects the three instruments along snaking melodies of varying timbres and textural identities. Throughout the work, the different techniques begin to blend into a melded cross-instrumental timbre.

The final track Allegro Sostenuto fills the second half of the album at 32 minutes long. A mammoth work on its own, Allegro Sostenuto requires a great deal of intensity from the performers in capturing what is a raucous climax around the latter third of the work. Mei-Hsuan Huang’s piano playing features colorful treatment with contrasts between glissandos and striking interjections while cellist George Work manages to blend into the lower bass clarinet texture with ease. Oakes’s bass clarinet performance is engaging.

Aesthetic Apparatus expertly and intelligently conveys the nuances of a composer that can sometimes be lost in a recorded medium. The quality of Chad Jacobsen’s engineering lets the individual artists speak. Although this album might be lost on someone if listened to in a crowded world, a noisy and busy life, hearing it without distraction reveals so many colors and timbres that make this a remarkable listening experience.

— Ford Fourqurean, 9.09.2021