The program page for Kronos Quartet’s program at the Cleveland Museum of Art on 18 January was typical of their concerts: a daunting list of mostly unfamiliar composers and every work either written or arranged for Kronos (David Harrington and John Sherba, violins; Hank Dutt, viola; and Jeffrey Zeigler, cello). Only Steve Reich and Laurie Anderson might have been familiar names to most audience members. There were voluminous printed program notes, rendered useless when the auditorium lights were completely dimmed for the concert. But also typical of Kronos, their blend of technical virtuosity, musicality and theatrical presentation made for an arresting two hours on a blustery winter evening in Cleveland.
The major work on the program was Steve Reich’s WTC 9/11, which combines pre-recorded sounds and voices with two pre-recorded string quartets along with the amplified live quartet. The work is a remembrance of the terrorist destruction of the New York World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. The opening pulse, which sets the tempo for the entire work, is the sound of a land-line telephone left off the hook. There are voices of air traffic controllers, recordings of residents of the WTC neighborhood, police officers, firefighters, and volunteers who took shifts sitting near the bodies until they had been identified and could be buried. Although the performance made a deep emotional impact; WTC 9/11 is less interesting than Reich’s 1988 Different Trains, also written for Kronos. The compositional techniques are similar in both works, but the earlier work is developed at greater length and is ultimately a richer musical experience.
Kronos gave the world premiere of Dan Becker’s Carrying the Past, which also combined pre-recorded music (mostly scratchy 78 rpm popular song and dance recordings) and amplified live string quartet. The live music features ostinati of various types, changing in punctuation with the recorded music. At one point the two violinists mimed the dance tune being played on the recorded track. The meow of a cat appeared toward the end. As a musical reminiscence, it was all harmless fun.
Laurie Anderson’s brief Flow, as arranged by Jacob Garchik, was magical, beginning imperceptibly and continuing with ethereal suspension of time. At the end we were left in silence with projected light patterns on the textured surface of the rear stage platform wall.