Cool venue – cool ensemble – cool concert! The Kronos quartet are successful where so many fail in bringing the often-too-distinct worlds of pop/rock and classical together. This concert highlighted their commitment to forging their own performance aesthetic by only programming music that has been written specifically for them. The only exception was the piece that inspired first violinist David Harrington to form the group in the first place – George Crumb’s Black Angels.
Beginning with Aheym (Homeward) by Bryce Dessner (of the band The National), Kronos immediately set out a hard edged, disembodied (amplified) sound. Microphones and speaker-cones further emphasised attacks that were already performed with what seemed to approach contempt for their instruments. This was a striking piece that, through belligerent repetition, had a powerful effect – but didn’t develop enough to really hit the mark. While electronics can compromise the intimacy of a chamber ensemble, they can, when used well, enhance new and otherwise-ignored dimensions; here they simply amplified the sound, which gave a visceral edge to the playing and made the extended techniques sound yet more extreme. This created a hyper-real string quartet sound fitting the slightly grotesque high-Victorian decor and decayed classic ambience of the Hackney Empire.
Electronics were used in brilliant sympathy by Tyondai Braxton (a former member of the electronic group Battles), and the concert really took off here – the tape part joined the ensemble in perfect balance (praise to the oft-overlooked sound engineer) and made for a disturbing and moving experience.
To close the first half Kronos were joined by the Trinity Laban Chamber Choir. On they came, entering the stage in dribs and drabs, howling and screeching, to perform Another Secret eQuation – Terry Riley’s twenty-sixth Kronos commission. This piece was not convincing; getting past the repeated juvenile words (such as ‘they never listen to us’ and ‘we are lost and cannot find our way’) was difficult and made Riley’s music, which normally has a concerted veneer of simplicity (but creates an amazing, deep effect), sound facile. However, Exalted by Michael Gordon (another Kronos devotee) was a real treat. In a very good way, it was ritualistic – even bordering on barbaric. The aggressive quartet opening, when joined by descending canonic phrases in the choir, was hypnotizing. The performers managed to maintain the intensity over innumerable repeats – a physical and musical feat not to go unnoticed by a delighted crowd.