Jarret Goodchild reviewed our latest album Speak, Be Silent for the new music blog I Care If You Listen, declaring it “a testament to Riot Ensemble’s vision and artistry.” Read the review below or check out it out here.
Since 2012, the London-based Riot Ensemble has given over 200 world and UK premieres and has become a spearhead at the forefront of new music. Forward thinking and creative, their Artistic Board members are also some of the top musicians and soloists in Europe. They are in constant motion, acting as curators, composers, performers, and commissioners for Riot Ensemble. The group’s latest album, Speak, Be Silent (HCR), is a collection of pieces that shows off the outstanding capabilities of the ensemble as well as the powerful voices of the composers they help to promote.
The album borrows its name from Liza Lim’s Speak, Be Silent. The piece features violinist Sarah Saviet, one of Riot Ensemble’s principal artists and Artistic Directors. Throughout the work, there are multiple moments where the instruments of the ensemble cascade over each other like waves. The effect is like the aural version of colored lights gradually changing hues, while at other times, it is like fireworks outshining each other. Frenetic bursts give way to feelings of melancholy, and eventually, Lim takes the listener to a new, more sparse sonic landscape. During these exposed moments, the solo violin is predominantly featured with long swaths of color, emerging intermittently from the rest of the ensemble. Saviet’s performance is fantastic–Lim’s writing demands extreme agility and precision, and Saviet delivers.
Chaya Czernowin’s Ayre: Towed through plumes, thicket, asphalt, sawdust and hazardous air I shall not forget the sound of opens the album. The poetic title is an excellent reflection of the music. The sounds Czernowin creates seem familiar and foreign at the same time. The repeated musical material seems to be dragged through the different hazards of the title. All movement is slow and compressed down to a miniscule range for much of the piece, with tones climbing over each other like rungs on a ladder.
In contrast, Baby Magnify/Lilith’s New Toy is fun, playful, and often erratic. Mirela Ivičevićachieves this feeling with percussive notes and sliding gestures across the ensemble. As this piece progresses, the tension mounts with an explosive texture. The sounds Ivičević is able to pull out of the ensemble are marvelous!
Ró by Anna Thorvaldsdóttir takes the listener in the opposite direction with long, dark, undulating tones that support eerie motives. The music is slow, methodical, and phrased in one long, gentle arc. Everything feels very carefully placed and deliberately moves through its paces. The interwoven rhythmic intricacy in Baby Magnify/Lilith’s New Toy coupled with the care to tone, nuance, and balance in Ró exemplifies the caliber of the performers and displays what makes Riot Ensemble so special.
The last track on the album is not an exclamation point, but rather more like a question mark. Rebecca Saunders’ Stirrings Still II slinks along in a similar way to Ró, but is more sparse and extremely intimate. The dialogues Saunders has created sound either like whispers or guttural growls. The string effects give this sonic construction a silvery exterior, and the mood is a reflective one. Saunders does an amazing job of pulling the listener in and suspending all sense of time.
The great Italian composer Luciano Berio (1925–2003) wrote thirteen Sequenzas for solo instruments, from voice to accordion (fourteen if you count his arrangement of the clarinet’s Sequenza IX for alto saxophone). They are among the pinnacles of the repertory for solo musicians – contemporary equivalents to Bach’s cello suites, or Liszt’s piano études. They also happen to match pretty closely the make-up of our artistic board (although no Sequenza for solo writer, alas). What better project for Riot, then, to record new versions of as many of them as we can?
Well, of course, we’re going one further than that. Over a few days in August we will be working with Four/Ten Media to film nearly all fourteen Sequenzas, as well as a few other pieces for members of our artistic board for whom Berio didn’t plan.
One of the newest members of our board, bassoonist Ruth Rosales, is in at the deep end with the legendarily difficult Sequenza XII, twenty minutes of non-stop circular breathing, flutter-tonguing, ‘Berio trills’, glissandi and other distinctly unusual bassoon techniques. I spoke to her at the end of April 2019 about how her preparations – by this stage she had been working on the piece for around nine months …
Tim Rutherford-Johnson: This is supposed to be the hardest of the Sequenzas …
RR: Initially it was just keeping the airflow going. There would always be this break in the sound – at first there was a huge break, and then it was getting smaller as I was used to blowing the air out of my cheeks and then going back to blowing air out of my lungs. Then that got smaller and smaller – which I was delighted with because I wasn’t sure if that was ever going to happen – and now I’ve got a consistent sound, which I’m just relieved has happened. My current problem is that forcing the air out of your cheeks makes the pitch go up a little bit, I suppose because the airflow gets faster, and I feel like I don’t have as much control over that.
The thing I found really interesting when I was learning to
circular breathe was that you have to breathe all the excess air out as well.
You have to blow the air out of your cheeks and get rid of all the air that you
have in your lungs so that you get fresh breaths, otherwise you start to
hyperventilate and you just get the top of your lungs filling up.
Something I’m finding really tricky is the flutter-tonguing.
I have to make sure I’ve cleared my lungs and taken a few fresh breaths so I’ve
got enough power to get through five crotchets-worth of flutter-tonguing.
TR-J: When you were learning did you go straight onto the instrument? People do all these exercises with straws in drinks and so on…
RR: Yeah, I went round to Philip [Haworth]’s house and spent a couple of hours in hysterics trying to learn. We started with just a reed, and then a crook as well. It was a bit ridiculous because you’re having to maintain this sound that is hilariously awful, like a ship coming in, honking away!
After that I just did it against my hand, breathing out and feeling the air continuously on my hand. That was a useful way to feel how that was working. But putting a reed in your mouth – obviously then you’ve got an embouchure that you need to maintain, and the airflow is so different. It took me absolutely ages, and hopefully by August I’m going to be fabulous!
The Sequenza is incredibly far from finished, and it’s insane how much work has gone into it for it to sound as unfinished as it does. But what is cool is … something like circular breathing you can’t do it, you can’t do it, you can nearly do it, you can’t do it, you can nearly do it, and then all of a sudden you can do it. And it’s an incredible sense of achievement, even if it’s not great – I can do something that I couldn’t do before. That’s been really amazing.
My sister ran the London Marathon yesterday, and it involved a lot of training and she got to the end and she’s a dream woman. This is my marathon! I’ve got so much more training to do, and I need a running coach and I need lessons, but then it’s going to be my marathon day on 26 August. That’s how I feel about it.
TR-J: Is this the hardest thing you’ve ever done, physically?
RR: With regards to bassoon playing, yes. Maintaining the embouchure through flutter-tonguing, circular breathing and everything like that – I didn’t realise that every breath you take gives you a little break on your embouchure, but in this piece you’re having to keep it, keep it, keep it whilst you’re changing air pressure and your tongue and all these things, and you’re having to maintain this strength. That’s definitely a challenge for my lips.
I also used to be asthmatic, and I have this thing where I
panic and I stop breathing. Like if I’m doing a sporting event that I think I’m
not going to be able to complete I start breathing at the top of my breath –
and I started having that feeling with the circular breathing. Which again is
why I needed to learn to breathe out as well. It’s going to be a bit of a
TR-J: As well as the breathing, the rest of the music is not exactly straightforward. How are you putting it together – the stamina, the circular breathing, the fingering?
RR: The really cool thing, which is something that a friend said to me, is that once you’ve got the first page down, the rest of it links on. You’ve learnt that first bit and it links to the other bits. So that’s a relief!
TR-J: In the face of all that, are you enjoying it?
RR: If I’m honest, while I was learning to circular breathe, no. Because I was panicked. I was really aware that I could not even do the breathing, let alone play the notes. But about 10 days ago I started to really enjoy it, and I felt there was a strong possibility that I will be able to do this. I feel like I’ve got a hell of a lot of work to do, but I feel like this is something I can do. And it’s so cool to be learning something so different and so difficult. To be learning so many new techniques at the age of 33 – that’s amazing. I wonder how I’ll sound in August when it’s the month, whether I’ll sound as positive!
Also I’ve decided that in order to circular breathe you need
to be fit, so I need to get on it with my running and my swimming and all of my
exercise. And I’m not allowed to get ill because you need to have a clear nasal
passage! This is going to be an ordeal if I’ve got a cold – I have to be well.
TR-J: Stock up on the Sudafed.
RR: Or have someone come in with a conductor’s baton with a tissue on the end to wipe my nose.
TR-J: At least your marathon is over in 20 minutes, there is that …
RR: Hopefully – unless I have to do it over and over to get it right! I’ve got a three-hour slot, so it could be a three-hour marathon!
The concert will be free (but please RSVP here). In lieu of tickets we will be collecting donations to support Play for Progress, a charity that delivers therapeutic and educational music programmes for traumatized and socially isolated unaccompanied minor refugees. Flautist Alyson Frazier, a Play for Progress co-founder, took time out from her demanding work to talk to us about what the charity does and why its work is so important.
Tim Rutherford-Johnson: Hi Alyson, and thank you for taking the time to answer our questions! To begin with, can you briefly outline what Play for Progress is all about?
Alyson Frazier: Play for Progress offers a programme of creative music and arts activities complemented by therapeutic, educational, and practical support. In partnership with the Refugee Council Children’s Section our work seeks to combat refugees’ isolation, develop their confidence, self-expression and sense of community, and deepen and extend the webs of support they have to rely upon so as to improve their social and emotional well-being.
We are tirelessly working to build a community of mutually trusting and resilient citizens of the world (kids, tutors and support staff, Allies in Art, donors, and volunteers alike) who learn from, celebrate, and support one another at every opportunity, especially through music, learning, creative play, and sharing.
Ours is a service delivery organization that incorporates well-being support and advocacy that is based on the strong trust and relationships that we build with individual young people during our weekly activities. Every week we run group instrumental jam sessions, 1-on-1 private lessons, recording/arranging/writing (RAW) classes, creative arts therapy, 1-on-1 therapy sessions, and voice expression classes. Several times a term we also host our #AlliesInArt series, external performances (catch us at the V&A on June 16th!), outings to cultural events in London, half-term projects, and holiday residentials.
TR-J: Why is a charity like this needed?
AF: All of these teens endured harrowing experiences as they journeyed to get here, and upon arriving discovered that this land of ‘safety’ is not yet open to them, and that the process of gaining asylum is itself lengthy, unpredictable, traumatic, and not even guaranteed. While their applications are evaluated many of these young people are placed in ill-equipped, over prescribed, and impermanent accommodation in and around Croydon/South London. Only some are given access to formal education and mental health provision.
We have discovered through our work with this exceedingly vulnerable community that the systems presently in place are insufficient to care for their varied and rightfully demanding needs. We want to be there for them, to help them connect with and build trusting relationships with peers and adults alike and offer ways for them to healthily and safely release tensions and process trauma so that they can begin to transition from surviving to thriving. We want to offer them a place of respite, safety, and care; a holding place while we work to inform care systems of gaps in their services, and help to develop solutions.
TR-J: Where does music fit in? What benefits can it offer to young people within the asylum system?
AF: In order to answer that question I have to lay out the context:
Children caught in war and violence are traumatized. Their education has been interrupted, was limited or non-existent, and their emotional and intellectual growth during crucial years of development have been impacted devastatingly by the traumas they have experienced. When they arrive they are wary, face extreme challenges with language, and feel extremely isolated and under threat.
Music has an exceptional ability to get to the core of a human. By engaging in group music making and movement you can bypass (and harness the benefits of) language barriers and social anxieties in a way that simply isn’t possible outside of the medium. You can rally a room into working together to express itself, create a united vision, give voice to individuals, and more, faster and more deeply than by using any other art form.
It’s also an exceedingly bonding experience, and in this world of difference, sharing and passing on our cultural traditions through oral traditions is a precious thing. It’s all about subtext: if someone offers to teach you their Kurdish dance, they are not just saying ‘want to dance?’; they are welcoming you into their cultural space, offering you a connection to their home (which will surely be filled with tension and deep, complex emotions), their self. Further, they have identified you as someone with whom they feel safe, and with whom they want to share this often hidden part of themselves. There is nothing more precious and deeply meaningful than the intimate sharing of the self through those elements that make you you.
Music provides an outlet for creative thinking, a means for emotional processing and release, and a method of encouraging positive challenges of the self (a rare experience for these vulnerable young people who tend encounter exclusively threatening challenges). Making music, developing your creative languages, and practising group art-making in its many forms unlocks the gates to self-appreciation, self-exploration, and self-expression, and enhances communal appreciation, expression, and development. PFP programmes are designed to encourage and enable these children to find enjoyment and respite from trauma in making music, exploring cultural traditions, collaborating with peers, and exploring their own creative and musical voices.
TR-J: What takes place in your classes? How do you see the musical and therapeutic sides interacting?
AF: Our students can choose to learn the flute, clarinet, saxophone, trumpet, guitar, violin, cello, piano, drums, voice, and music production. They also engage with varied art forms through our creative arts therapy classes, which continue to work with rap, poetry, shadow puppetry, dance, beatboxing, and visual arts.
Everything we do incorporates musicianship games, improvisation, sharing, jamming, different methods of learning and reading music, and a lot of work by ear. Further, the practice of being an audience member is vitally important. These young people are very rarely (if ever) given the space to be heard, really listened to, by a group of sympathetic and caring humans. As such, a huge part of our classes is the ‘sharing’ portion, in which every young person has the opportunity to share what they’ve learned that day, whether that be performing a piece they’ve been working on for weeks, or showing they’ve learned how to hold a bow and allow an open string to ring. We all celebrate their achievement with whoops and hollers, and it has a magical effect on that young person – you can visibly see stress build and release, you can see a change in their confidence, and you can see them feeling something special and different about that experience. It deeply bonds the group and identifies the space as something beyond the norm.
It’s so important to
have friends and allies appreciate and acknowledge your accomplishments,
especially when your family can’t be there. For this reason we also put on
end-of-term showcases to celebrate
out incredible students. July 24th is this year’s and all are welcome! Send an
email to firstname.lastname@example.org with RSVP Showcase in the title and we will be glad to have you
join us for the evening.
TR-J: Do you have any particular experiences you can share of sessions – any good stories?
AF: I think it’s best to let the kids speak for themselves. So here are some soundbites they’ve offered at various points of working with us.
Thank you so much. That is why I came to day. Today I do not forget the people who is love me. And I have to grow up my flower on top of stone some time. Anyway thank you so much for make me happy, you all such a wonderful doctors not musicians. I proud of you. To change people life from bad story from the past. The meaning of Play for Progress is start creative life with good consequences to live.
A violin student
I love everything [about PFP]. When I come to class I learning with the teacher so after that everyone do together. I love this because makes me happy. I’m very interested in everything.
A piano student about our weekly Friday sessions
Today was great!! And performance of music in front of people was excited and a moment I thought I’m Tom Cruise! And dreams something like that. So thank you for all that you’ve done for us.
A clarinet student after performing at the V&A (June 2018)
Your class makes me feel safe and part of something good. I can forget my missing of my home, my mother. I can forget feeling alone and scared. I thank you, each of you, you make me happy, you make me forget, with you I feel safe, it is so good what you do for us, for me, I thank you.
A violin and piano student (2017)
TR-J What sorts of music and artists do you engage with? Are there certain types of music
that work better than others?
AF: We work with all sorts! From a Congolese fusion band, a Ghanaian afro jazz/funk band, and a 5-piece swing band complete with dancers, to a Flamenco pair, and a Caribbean carnival band. We encourage musicians and artists who want to engage with the community but don’t know how to participate in our #AlliesInArt series: our once-monthly set for external musicians to perform at the Refugee Council and engage with the young people as they would with any other audience. Whether it’s traditional Kurdish music that gets the kids up and dancing, or some smooth jazz that soothes them, it’s a great way to break the ice, groove, and get to know one another.
When it comes to our own performances, the kids bring tunes that they love (whether folk from home, or pop tunes from abroad), and we arrange it specifically for our ensemble make up. Sometimes kids will write their own works too, which we help them to devise. At a recent performance at the Queen Elizabeth Hall, we performed a work by a student who built a composition around a poem he’d written. It yielded some astoundingly beautiful moments of unity and trust when he encouraged younger participants to engage in the free-form improv section and add their voice to his own, which seamlessly transitioned into our raucous arrangement of a Hindi tune that it turned out a huge number of our kids knew already, despite being from incredibly disparate parts of the world (Afghanistan, Sudan, Iraq). Go figure! But it tickled me completely that we all united with this Bollywood tune, presenting our own composite joy in music making and in each other.
TR-J: How open are the young people to what you are doing?
AF: Brilliantly, our kids are exceedingly vocal about what they want, and we find that once they feel comfortable in our sessions, the requests and recommendations flow, and we just have to keep up with them!
How and when we
expand what activities deliver is dependent upon what the kids say they want.
We noticed that many organisations have been set up, and this vulnerable group
is expected to slot into it. But the reality is that that structure leaves many
young people out on a limb and without sufficient support. Thanks to our
smaller size and relative newness, we are able to adapt swiftly and directly to
their needs and wants, and achieve high consistency of attendance.
TRJ: Finally, do you follow what happens to the young people after they leave the asylum
system? How do you think music benefits them in their future lives?
AF: Our oldest participants are only just now turning 18 and facing the trials and traumas that come with the unacceptably young leaving care age of 18. We are learning with them the numerous and varied challenges and triggers that arise at this time, and we are swiftly working to develop and formalise the advocacy sides of our work so that we can 1) provide support to young people as they ‘age-out’ of the traditional care system 2) influence policy change (including changing the leaving care age) and improve the status quo through compiled documentation of the experiences of our community and guidance on best practices. This community is very much underserved and under researched, having been entered into the normal care system without additional provisions for their ‘asylum-seeker specific’ needs.
In terms of following what happens to our young people, once we develop a relationship with them, we will sustain it. Thus far, young people who have gone on to prepare to sit uni entrance exams will still attend external performances and cheer our younger kids on. They will come to sessions occasionally and bring friends who are new to the country so that they can also begin to build a community, and they grow into leadership positions within our organisation. Learning from and discussing with them about the roles they might want to take on, and how we could support that by developing roles within our organisation for them is something we are working on now.
Click to learn more about Play for Progress. If you can’t make it on 8th April you can donate to the charity directly.
Date: Sun 3rd Nov, 2019 Venue: ‘s-Hertogenbosch, The Netherlands
From their new album Speak, Be Silent, Riot Ensemble perform Rebecca Saunders’Stirring Still II which continues her longstanding fascination with the writings of Samuel Beckett, sharing its title with Beckett’s final work of prose. Through its fragile and haunting soundworld, the piece’s brittle textures and distant keening explore minute musical activities on the edge of extinction.
Alongside this Laurence Osborn’sCtrl which was premiered by Riot Ensemble at Huddersfield Contemporary Music Festival in 2017. Ctrl is a three movement song-cycle about masculinity written from the fragmented perspective of a male character and sung by a female singer.
Date: Sat 2nd Nov, 4.00pm Venue: ‘s-Hertogenbosch, The Netherlands
Solstices is a 70-minute piece from Georg Friedrich Haas, which takes place entirely in darkness. For 10 musicians, including a completely re-tuned grand piano, Solstices opens with a passage of taut, energetic and precise music.From here the piece turns to a process of deep-listening by the musicians who, led by a totally re-tuned grand piano, play and tune a series of overtone chords.Soon Haas introduces a variety of musical ‘games’ and elements that play upon the surface of this slowly moving texture.Building to an intense climax, the final chord is held by the musicians for more than four minutes.Haas writes:
very gradually the light comes back
the brighter the light, the softer the music
decrescendo al niente