In between the four operas of the “Ring,” a critic traveled to take in world premieres by Jennifer Walshe and Anthony Braxton.It’s not a typical week in Germany when a staging of Wagner’s “Götterdämmerung” on the composer’s own turf at the Bayreuth Festival finds itself outdone for world-consuming sadness, rage and the possibility of redemption.But that’s what I experienced recently when I traveled between the four operas of the “Ring” at the festival and the Darmstadt Summer Course, a hotbed of avant-garde works since 1946.On Wednesday in Darmstadt — during a day off between “Siegfried” and “Götterdämmerung” in Bayreuth — Ensemble Nikel backed the Irish experimental singer and composer Jennifer Walshe in the world premiere of the complete song cycle “Minor Characters,” which she co-wrote with Matthew Shlomowitz.The morning after “Minor Characters,” I traveled back to Bayreuth for “Götterdämmerung” as staged (to much polarization) by Valentin Schwarz. Experiencing both back-to-back, I had the feeling that the song cycle had managed to steal the fire of the “Ring” cycle.I had expected “Minor Characters” to have a keyed-up, smash-cut musical aesthetic. Shlomowitz’s “Popular Contexts” series, for piano and “sampler keyboard,” after all, uses snatches of vocal growls, drooping water sources and Ping-Pong volleys, plus piano and beat-work, to create a disorientating, groovy effect; then nervier piano marches, alarming synths and distorted guitar samples.

Popular Contexts / Performed by Mark Knoop by Matthew Shlomowitz / Peter AblingerWalshe’s compositional practice often revolves around her wide range of vocal inflections. Her approach incorporates extended technique experimentalism and free improvisation in addition to composed elements.But also many, many accents. In a 2020 profile, the New Yorker critic Alex Ross celebrated her ability to channel “Irish bard” and “California surfer girl” alike — a style which reaches a high state of refinement on solo Walshe efforts like “All the Many Peopls.”

ALL THE MANY PEOPLS by Jennifer Walshe“Minor Characters” hits a new level of development for Walshe and Shlomowitz. He seems to pull her a bit closer toward more typical song forms; she puts some critical distance between his synths and the way they can seem to self-consciously emulate Muzak. And they put to use, through the piece’s dramatic interrogation of the pleasures and ills of our too-online present, the ferocious chops of Ensemble Nikel — a group made up of a percussionist, guitarist, saxophonist and keyboardist.Walshe’s text moves fast, and the music moves at the speed of thought. One moment, her vocals may seem to be celebrating internet memes — or the “minor characters” who become “main characters” for a day on social media. But before long, she’s chiding the world, or herself, for ignoring weightier matters. The music rockets back and forth between amiable, unhurried rhythms and black-metal blast beasts; between ad-jingle saxophone riffs and free-jazz skronk; between even-keeled, Eddie Van Halen-style finger-tapped motifs on electric guitar and less orderly plumes of distorted noise.She toys with audience expectations, too. Early on, she begins in a confessional mode, relating a #MeToo-style narrative involving a professor luring one of his students down to his basement. But before long, Walshe leaves the audience there, narratively, with no resolution and the professor screaming to no one in particular, in perpetuity.Instead, “Minor Characters” pivots to new fascinations and horrors — an exorcism in a rural country field, reports on a burning planet — as online life tends to do. When Walshe gave wild voice to lines like “they knew, we all knew, and we did nothing about it,” her self-implicating understanding of the climate crisis had a Brünnhilde-like edge — with traces of grace and good humor leavening her grave understanding, similar to Wotan in the “Ring,” of a world order’s undoing by its own designs.Walshe has a wide range of literary inspiration, Wagner included; her contributions to the liner notes for “Peopls” refer to “certain sections from ‘Watt’ by Samuel Beckett,” the rapper KRS-One and “the cast of ‘Lohengrin.’” That Wagnerian citation is no joke. “I don’t do anything ironically,” Walshe said in a brief interview after the performance of “Minor Characters.” “I don’t like any music ironically. But it has to mean something. There has to be something at stake.”“Minor Characters” seems to ask: If everyone is distracted online, following their own taste, how do we solve problems together? Even though the show feels complete, there is no true resolution.It felt more satisfying, even, than the “Götterdämmerung” in Bayreuth. Schwarz’s risky staging seems to run aground in the final opera. He has interesting ideas in the lead-up: making Wotan an even bigger cheater than usual; depicting Fafner’s dragon form as a hospice patient at home, sitting on the hoard of gold as a member of the gerontocracy.And Schwarz offers bleak humor, such as in Mime trying to teach Siegfried fear by introducing him to sex through pornography. But by “Götterdämmerung” none of that seems to have mattered as the opera’s telling sputters in its final moments.Still, there was much fine singing and orchestral playing. The bass-baritone Tomasz Konieczny’s Wotan had some of Walshe’s gloriously unhinged energy. In both “Die Walküre” and “Siegfried,” during moments of self-pity, he would crumple to the ground, offering aspirated whimpers; the next moment he would be raging, spurred on by a just as quickly extinguished explosion from the orchestra, led with fire by Pietari Inkinen.And Inkinen’s way with quieter textures provided a ravishing experience of Bayreuth’s fabled acoustics: He and the orchestra produced soft-grained marvel after marvel in the second, contemplative act of “Walküre,” then, as if with whip in hand, he blazed through the final act of that opera and the first act of “Siegfried” with what seemed like one complete surge of momentum.Anthony Braxton, whose new “Thunder Music” system debuted in Darmstadt.Kristof LempIn between those two shows, I traveled to Darmstadt for another world premiere: the debut of American saxophonist-composer Anthony Braxton’s new “Thunder Music” system, which came courtesy of a performance, led by him, of his Composition No. 443.While not strictly dramatic in nature, “Thunder Music” suggested a stagelike feel. In this new category of his compositional practice, individual musicians are responsible for making choices about how to merge their own sound with prerecorded sounds of thunder and nature.At Darmstadt, the musicians in this chamber ensemble — including singers, woodwinds, brasses, an accordion and two double basses — prerecorded a take on No. 443 the day before the concert. Then, at the show, the performers could control the extent to which their own prerecorded material was mixed with thunderstorms or swarms of birds (controlled through an app designed for their phones). Simultaneously, they played Composition No. 443 again — live, this time with the ability to network with other musicians in improvisations, or interpolations of past Braxton pieces.At one point, when the saxophonist James Fei and the trombonist Roland Dahinden collaborated on the theme of Braxton’s Composition No. 131 — in which frenetic riffs are capped with a sashaying figure that seems to wink at listeners — they put a jolt of Braxton’s bebop-tinged catalog into what had been an airy stretch of No. 443.Braxton has in the past declared himself “a complete fool for the music of Richard Wagner” — something that you can sense in operas like “Trillium X,” which I reviewed earlier this month from Prague. But you can also sense Braxton’s affection in the way he encourages musicians to layer his various compositions during the same moment in performance. That bit of No. 131 that cropped up during No. 443? Call it a Braxtonian leitmotif for Charlie Parker. More

Herbert Blomstedt introduced the New York Philharmonic to a piece he premiered in Stockholm 59 years ago.At 95, the conductor Herbert Blomstedt is still showing new sides of himself to the New York Philharmonic.New sides that are also old ones. On Thursday at David Geffen Hall, he introduced the orchestra to Ingvar Lidholm’s “Poesis,” a work whose premiere he led 59 years ago as a rising maestro in Stockholm.Lidholm (1921-2017) was part of the European avant-garde that sought a fresh start for music in the rubble-strewn wake of World War II, advancing Schoenberg’s 12-tone theories as a way to decisively sweep aside Romanticism and the rest of a fraught cultural past. But, ever curious, Lidholm didn’t stay a doctrinaire serialist for long, and the 18-minute “Poesis” is an exploration of elemental sound and stark drama without reliance on stylistic rules.From an indelible, primordial start — pieces of rough sandpaper rubbed together in an unpredictable rhythm over a quivering haze in the strings — the work unfolds tensely, with groups of instruments that are not exactly in angry conflict but are all strong-willed and sharp-elbowed. Uneasy groans and light bruises of tone suddenly condense into buzzing clouds that explode in a storm of slapped bows on strings, glinting violins and roaring brasses before receding back to a mood of clenched hovering.A pianist (here the strong, unflappable Eric Huebner) provides pounding clusters — answered by shocks of percussion and woozy trombones — and shimmering plucks and strums of the strings inside his instrument. He sometimes softly strikes those strings with a mallet for the barest halo of sound, and at one point loudly blows a whistle directly at the audience; Lidholm doesn’t shy from arresting theatricality.In another passage, the players briefly whisper sibilants; a series of sliding glissandos in a double bass near the end, almost vocal, feels like a tiny, impeded aria. Alongside strict notation, Lidholm provides room for improvisation within bounds, giving the music a core sense of something seething and fertile.It’s a grandly stern piece, but, like the best of its space-age era, it pulses deep down with a kind of optimism that comes off as sweetly poignant today, the underlying conviction that a fresh postwar start was possible. There’s poised elegance to its savage volatility.So close did Blomstedt remain to “Poesis” and its composer over the decades that when Lidholm revised the piece in 2011 — making a wild central piano solo quieter and more reflective — the new version was dedicated to this conductor, whose career has continued past expectations to this age-defying, jaw-dropping point.Having missed some concerts last year after a fall, Blomstedt walked on and offstage on Thursday with assistance from the Philharmonic’s concertmaster, Frank Huang. But once seated on a piano stool placed on the podium, he hardly seemed frail; his gestures were, as usual, restrained and focused. He addressed the audience before “Poesis” with a down-to-earth wit that made Lidholm’s sometimes forbidding world more welcoming.And after intermission he was a gracious guide through Berlioz’s “Symphonie Fantastique.” This was a leisurely, mellow, thoroughly pastoral rendition of a piece that under other batons — like that, as my colleague David Allen recently observed, of Charles Munch — can be hair-raising. At Geffen Hall, terror didn’t infringe on even the final sections, the “March to the Scaffold” and “Dream of a Witches’ Sabbath.”But the playing was polished, lucid and natural, the work of a conductor with no need to prove himself with inflated intensity. Referring to Huebner, the pianist in “Poesis,” Blomstedt had earlier reassured the audience about that piece’s more outré techniques. “It’s music,” he said, “because he’s a musician.” In Blomstedt’s hands, too, everything is simply, sincerely musical.New York PhilharmonicThis program is repeated through Saturday at David Geffen Hall, Manhattan; nyphil.org. More

He wrote prolifically about various aspects of the arts and popular culture. But he kept his focus on jazz, celebrating its past while worrying about its future.Francis Davis, a prolific jazz critic with a sharp eye and ear for music’s cultural context, died on Monday at his home in Philadelphia. He was 78.His wife, Terry Gross, the host of the NPR program “Fresh Air,” said the cause was emphysema and complications of Parkinson’s disease.As a contributing editor at The Atlantic for more than a quarter-century and a columnist at The Village Voice for even longer, Mr. Davis wrote hundreds of articles on music, film, television and popular culture, focusing on jazz — an art form he both celebrated and bemoaned, worried that its future would not live up to its past. (He also wrote for The New York Times and other publications.)His specialty was teasing meaning from the sounds he heard, situating them in America’s history, culture and society. That approach, and the fluency of his writing, made him one of the most influential writers on jazz in the 1980s and beyond, drawing a wide readership and praise from other critics. The cultural figures and artifacts he took on — Frank Sinatra, Count Basie, “Seinfeld,” Billie Holiday, the director William Wyler — amount to a group portrait of America in the postwar years, largely in the pages of The Atlantic.One reviewer wrote of “Jazz and Its Discontents” (2004), one of seven books Mr. Davis published, that his “insights, investigations and opinions” were “funny, fierce and fair.”Da Capo Press“He is a sensitive, knowledgeable, perceptive, imaginative critic, and even when he’s moping he’s a pleasure to read,” The Washington Post book critic Jonathan Yardley wrote of Mr. Davis’s 1990 collection, “Outcats: Jazz Composers, Instrumentalists, and Singers.”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

WENN

The ‘Like a Rolling Stone’ hitmaker and Universal Music Group have been named defendants in a lawsuit launched by the wife of his late co-songwriter over alleged unpaid royalties.

Jan 22, 2021
AceShowbiz – Bob Dylan and Universal Music Group are being sued for $7.25 million (£5.3 million).
The legendary singer/songwriter sold the rights to his entire song catalogue – which includes tunes that span his 60-year career – to the label in December for over $300 million (£219 million), but Claudia Levy, the wife of the late Jacques Levy, has claimed her spouse’s estate have not received any money from the deal.
Levy – who died in 2004 – co-wrote seven of the nine songs on Dylan’s 1976 album “Desire”, and Claudia insisted in a claim made to Manhattan’s Supreme Court that his estate is owed 35 per cent “of any and all income earned by the compositions” including “35 per cent of the purchase price paid to the Dylan defendants.”
The suit highlighted the fact “Desire” topped the Billboard Pop Album chart for five weeks and the double platinum-selling record was ranked 174th on Rolling Stone Magazine’s 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.
Levy’s company and his wife asked for their “rightful share” of the sale to UMG around a week after it was completed last month (Dec20), but the “Like a Rolling Stone” hitmaker and his companies have refused to pay out, the court documents allege.

  See also…

And the court papers claimed the refusal followed a pattern of Dylan not giving Levy songwriting credit throughout the years, including in 2019’s Martin Scorsese film “Rolling Thunder Revue: A Bob Dylan Story”.
The suit said, “The Dylan defendants have engaged in a civilly wrong pattern and history of intentionally and maliciously ignoring and disregarding plaintiff’s rights, including those to income and any and all revenue generated by the compositions, including the subject buy-out of the catalogue sale.”
And Claudia’s lawyer, Richard Golub, told the New York Post newspaper, “There is a great creative history between Jacques and Bob.”
A lawyer acting on behalf of the “Blowin’ in the Wind” singer insisted there was no money owed to the estate.
Orin Snyder said in a statement, “This lawsuit is a sad attempt to unfairly profit off of the recent catalog sale. The plaintiffs have been paid everything they are owed. We are confident that we will prevail. And when we do, we will hold plaintiffs and their counsel responsible for bringing this meritless case.”
A spokesperson for Universal Music Group declined to comment.

You can share this post!

Next article
Justin Timberlake and Ant Clemons Release New Song After Performance at Inauguration TV Special

Related Posts More

The R&B star’s first New York arena show supporting her blockbuster album “SOS” was a deft mix of styles and sounds, with guests Cardi B and Phoebe Bridgers.SZA’s performance at Madison Square Garden Saturday night was vigorous, confident, theatrical and intimate — the sort of show that manages the rare trick of feeling both vibrantly communicative and also protectively insular.But one particular five-song stretch encapsulated the range that has made SZA — whose second studio album, “SOS,” has spent 10 weeks atop the Billboard album chart — one of the most au courant performers of this era, a beacon for the vulnerable, the stubborn, the besieged and the broken.A few songs into her set, she told the crowd that she was performing a song that hadn’t previously been part of the set list, and started into “Ghost in the Machine,” a plinking whisper about needing escape. A few moments later, out shuffled Phoebe Bridgers, the beloved indie-rock singer-songwriter who guests on the track, wearing a promo T-shirt for “Smell the Magic,” the 1990 album by the all-woman grunge band L7. They sang their parts, grinning at the improbability of it all, then deeply bowed to each other.After that, SZA shifted into “Blind,” a quick-tongued acoustic soul number rich with lovely guitar curlicues, singing about all the walls she puts up, literally and figuratively: “You still talking ’bout babies/And I’m still taking a Plan B.” And after that, “Shirt,” a spacious thumper with echoes of 1990s R&B and a low center of gravity. Her voice, so breathy on the prior song, was tart here, as she worked through sinuous choreography with a quartet of backup dancers while sighing about taking “comfort in my sins.”SZA’s stage design leaned heavily on aquatic themes; at one point, she rode a lifeboat on wires high above the crowd.Nina Westervelt for The New York TimesThen, another guest: the charisma machine Cardi B, who joined for “I Do,” which features a winningly cocky hook by SZA. (Cardi stuck around to perform her verse from GloRilla’s “Tomorrow 2” for good measure, much to SZA’s apparent glee.) And following that came “Smoking on My Ex Pack,” a grounded, earthen hip-hop song in the vein of, say, Earl Sweatshirt, in which SZA navigates romantic push and pull: “Them hoe accusations weak/Them bitch accusations true.”It was, in sum, a 15-minute tour de force, spanning genres and modes, attitudes and feelings. It also felt utterly modern — indebted to the past but not beholden to it, unconcerned with old stylistic limitations, casually adroit.On “SOS,” one of last year’s most impressive albums, SZA writes about situationships with microscope acuity, self-lacerating and scowling in equal measure. In the five years that she took between albums, she became more particular, more pointed and more adventurous. That was clear on the pop-punk number “F2F,” which channeled Paramore, and “Nobody Gets Me,” which, depending on the lens, either leans heavily on Mazzy Star, or on melodramatic alt-country. She performed that one with particular fervor, recalling female power rockers of the 1990s like Alanis Morissette.This concert — the first of two sold-out nights in New York — was full of such peaks. The rapturous crowd met her up-tempo songs featuring dance routines with equal enthusiasm as her lonely ballads. On those, her voice was luscious, pure and full of nuance. (In this context, her more straightforward hits, like the Doja Cat collaboration “Kiss Me More,” or the songs with flickers of feisty verses from Kendrick Lamar, Travis Scott or Ol’ Dirty Bastard, didn’t much stand out.)SZA started and ended the show echoing the cover of “SOS”: perched at the end of a high diving board.Nina Westervelt for The New York TimesUniting it all were water themes — she opened the show sitting on the edge of a diving board, as she does on the cover of “SOS,” here wearing a navy jersey bearing the name Yemaya, the Yoruba goddess of the sea. (She returned to that perch at the concert’s end, this time wearing white.) At the back of the stage, a huge screen displayed waters that increasingly turned choppy, then undersea life. Some of her onstage setups included a huge fishing vessel and an oversized anchor, though they were more props than narrative devices.The show’s first section perhaps overindexed on choreographed numbers, but by midway through, SZA was soaring — first figuratively, and then literally, in a lifeboat rigged up to float above the crowd. Singing “Special,” a sweetly anguished song about self-doubt and jealousy, from up in the sky gave it a delicious inversion.While many artists touring concerts of this scale build to a sort of triumphant ending, SZA’s concluding run before the encore felt more like a retreat inward — the quiet storm smolder of “Snooze,” followed by the head-nodding manifesto of jealousy “Kill Bill,” one of the most unsettling smashes of recent memory. She followed that with “I Hate U,” a scalding indictment that’s virtually lo-fi on record, but here took on epic scale. And then finally, “The Weekend,” a stunningly calm song about an anxious situation, a timeshare kind of love: “My man is my man is your man/Heard it’s her man, too.” But she didn’t sound even a bit unsettled. Everyone was singing along, protecting these private troubles with public comfort.SZA performs at Madison Square Garden on Sunday. Her SOS Tour continues through March 23; szasos.com/tour. More