The Chicago-based Ensemble Dal Niente claims to be” the market leader in commission and performing cutting-edge fashionable music from around the world.” But, when I saw them play in music for the first time on October 13 at Constellation, my objectives were very high. Constellation is basically a dark field theater located in a converted storehouse on Western Ave. It is charmingly unremarkable. Everyone in the hall greets each other like old companions, the sheet and shielding are exposed, and the seats are worn. You can relax in a place where you can think freely about something.

Leilehua Lanzilotti, a musician and 2022 Pulitzer Prize winner, opened the music with beyond the crash of time. A song was waiting in the wings next to my hall chair while a song was holding a small bronze image in her arms, and three other musicians sat in oppostal corners as wraiths. On level, percussionist Kyle Flens appeared like a relaxing priest, sitting on the floor with his thighs criss-crossed. He was staring somewhat forward at a hung bell plate as the audience awaited him. Flens began to reach the bell plate as he explored every foot of the bell, alternating between soft and powerful articulations.

Juan Horie, Kyle Flens, and Zachary Good -- Photo by Ricardo Adame

Ensemble Dal Niente individuals Juan Horie, Kyle Flens, and Zachary Good — Photo by Ricardo Adame

What appeared to be the beginning of some ancient tradition left a trail of echoing, sonorous tones in the room. This perception only intensified as the singers who were seated in the aisles began to song while also muffling themselves, hands over mouths, and actually creating layers of whispered, directional tranquility. As they turned their arms, which I afterwards learned were called elephant rings, toward the period, they rotated the brass items in their hands. As they gyrated faster and faster, these violins filled the room with jewel-like ringing. At the height of melody, Flens immediately stood, turned, and faced the crowd. He, also, held an elephant ring. The five musicians were standing in a series, their eyes closed, like guards of an antiquity. Just after Flens looked up did I realize that the item was over and that silence had broken out. I had escaped the magic.

The evening’s distinct show was beyond the accident of time, but the change to the next work was neither jarring nor disappointing. George E. Lewis‘s Memories for Miles was written in honor of Miles Hoffman, the school roommate who changed his life. It was commissioned during the last decades of Miles ‘ condition, given this environment, I expected to find myself reflecting on pain during the achievement.

Otherwise, I found myself gripped by the single violin’s power. Theo Ramsey‘s fierce attack set off the part, and the depth never wavered. The numerous bowings and pizzicati were serious, so much so that the sound occasionally sounded very loud for the little venue. Although the active variance in this work might be more noticeable in a larger music hall, I also found it to be sharpened, clever, and entertaining, a Lewisian celebration of life for his friend.

Carolyn Chen’s how to organize took me – and perhaps the whole market – by surprise. In a musical house, I’ve never been one to belly laugh. The piece is part new song, piece spoken word, piece modern dance, and part humor. Six singers read overlapping pieces of advice on how to put everything together, from a perfect iced cake to a terrorist attack protection package. They opened their effectiveness by whirling in each other’s hands, do-si-doing their approach to absurdism.

Carolyn Chen's "how to assemble" -- Photo by Ricardo Adame

Ensemble Dal Niente people perform Carolyn Chen’s “how to organize” — Photo by Ricardo Adame

The first lines spoken after” Title” And” Introduction” were,” You may feel anywhere from uncomfortable to truly afraid”. But I always felt pain, only delight. From a dead-pan delivery of cake instructions to occasional solitary lines like” Anti-diarrheal” and “moistened towelettes”, the performers themselves kept breaking out into laughter, and we as the audience could n’t help but join in. The dancing and the performers ‘ obvious warmth gave the piece a unique sense of humor and life. In October of an election season, who does n’t need a laugh like that?

The world debut of Wang Lu’s Pecking Directions closed out the night’s programme. Before the achievement, Lu came on stage to explain the article’s nature. She had questioned an AI about a number of “pecking commands,” from the perceived hierarchy of musical instruments to the social strata of an British public high school. She used its solutions to create music that would allow the audience to hear the oddities of human-created hierarchies.

The outfit sounded more like a flock of birds than it does in the works ‘ most productive times. As she spoke, sang, and sometimes yelled out” Peck ORDERS,” singer Amanda Bartlett’s qualified acting and apparent stage presence gave the text more depth and flair. However, the tension of the unending yelling and dissonance made for a strained listening experience to finish the night. Ensemble Dal Niente’s system was a bold and heartfelt rollercoaster, showcasing their range and daring spirit total.

 

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