Where lies the boundary between musical performance and performance art? With more and more musicians choosing to incorporate digital or multimedia elements into their performances, concerts are increasingly defying easy categorisation. "Cage and Time" was a case in point: works by a number of composers were stitched into an uninterrupted 90-minute whole, with complex projections and a highly theatricalised manner of performance added to the mix. This ambitious performance was a fascinating collage of sight and sound, yet fell somewhat flat towards its end.
The performance officially marked the start of the Latvian Presidency of the Council of the European Union, which in itself celebrates a number of landmarks in Latvian history: 25 years since the country reasserted its independence, ten since it joined the EU, and one since it adopted the Euro. Bringing together music by some of Latvia's most highly-regarded composers with that by John Cage, Anders Hillborg and Jonathan Harvey, the event drew attention to some oft-overlooked names. This is where the format of the concert fell down: while we are familiar with the bell-like sonorities of Jonathan Harvey's music and Cage's infamous Waterwalk (1959) speaks for itself, the voices of Latvian composers are less well known. Although distinct episodes were identifiable within the unbroken musical flow, the lack of attribution meant that the Latvian composers were somewhat at a disadvantage.
The piece was a melting pot of different styles, incorporating earthy, folk-style ideas, buzzing electronics and ethereal, mysterious passages. Different musical layers jostled against one another, patterns overlapping and textures metamorphosing into something unrecognisable. Contemplative piano interludes (performed by Rihards Plesanovs) bound the piece together, although the frequency of these in the final third erased the sense of vitality and became somewhat repetitive.
Surprisingly, the Latvian Radio Choir assumed a relatively marginal role: spaced around the balcony, the ensemble was mostly used to create an otherworldly halo of sound. Its impeccable blend and warm but pure sound was never as effective as in the chorale as the piece approached its end. The dominant vocal roles were taken by the group of singers on stage, whose contributions ranged from earnest ballads to nonsensical utterances, squeaking and laughing.