Walter
Thompson (r) leads Joshua Taylor and Jason Phelps in a "Soundpainting."
As
another year's successful FronteraFest draws to a close, you'd
think our friends at the Hyde Park Theatre would want to close
up for a month and get some well deserved sleep. That's not
going to happen. Directly on the heels of the fringe theatre
festival,
they've scheduled another intriguing week of unusual art: "Sound & Vision," six
nights of new music, dance, and theatre starting Tuesday, February
16 (see sidebar). Festival director Jason Phelps says the mission
of this festival is "to present multidisciplinary collaborations
of nationally known, professional artists from Austin and beyond." One
group that best represents this concept is the Walter Thompson
Orchestra, which returns to Austin after its widely acclaimed
Sound Painting performance at last year's FronteraFest.
"Sound Painting" refers
to an elaborate language of signs and gestures that composer/
conductor Thompson uses to
communicate with his orchestra during performance. Originally
designed simply so Thompson wouldn't lose his voice from shouting
above the music, this tool of communication blossomed exponentially
into an interdisciplinary art form that allows a conductor to
create a totally improvised, completely unique work using musicians,
singers, dancers, actors, and visual artists.
If
words like "interdisciplinary" and "improvised" conjure
images of incomprehensible coffeehouse performance art, put your
fears to rest. I confess that last year, when I was invited by
a jazz-genius friend to Thompson's show, I expected an evening
of spaced-out horn battles between musicians jamming to melodies
that made sense only in their own heads. I went anyway. Pleasantly
surprised doesn't describe my experience; I was blown away by
a show more entertaining, intriguing, and exciting than anything
I'd seen in a long time.
Seated on the Hyde Park Theatre stage, several horn players,
a drummer, a violinist, two singers, a dancer, and two actors
eagerly awaited signals from Thompson, a sharp-looking chap with
long hair slicked back into a ponytail, a neat goatee, and bright,
twinkling eyes. After giving a brief introduction, Thompson launched
into a series of gyrations and gestures that made him look like
a speed freak playing charades. His motions unleashed a whirlwind
of activity on the stage. The band began to improvise, themes
emerged, the singers produced beautiful, unearthly tones, the
two actors embarked on a madcap, nonsensical dialogue that somehow
began to make sense, and around it all danced a woman in black
tights and a leotard whose frenetic motions seemed to pull the
piece together.
It
quickly became apparent, however, that Thompson was the real
glue holding the scene together. As he heard and observed what
was taking place before him, he responded to and shaped it using
his system of gestures. The Sound Painting vocabulary now includes
over 600 gestures, divided into seven categories: sections, indicating
certain individuals or groups on stage; rhythms, giving tempos
and time signatures; genres, bringing out the "feel" of
the music; tonal indications, signaling certain key centers or
specific chords; functions, instructions used in conjunction
with other signals; sculpting, bringing out concepts and textures;
and palettes, calls for short sections of notated music and/or
rehearsed music, text, or choreography. As complicated as all
this sounds, it is amazingly easy to grasp on an intuitive level;
after watching Thompson's interaction with the performers, one
quickly understands what is happening and becomes absorbed in
the spontaneous creation occurring before one's eyes.
"Sound Painting uses the entire group as the instrument," Thompson
says. "I'm the traffic cop who keeps all the parts moving.
If I step away from the podium, then all kinds of crashes will
happen."
Thompson
directs this traffic without a formal script or score. "It's
a real give-and-take situation when I'm conducting," he
says. "I have a number of gestures I use called 'search
gestures.' I throw one out and if the response sparks a shape
I want to develop, then I take it and work with it. I'm not always
sure what I'm going to get when I'm searching; that's the exciting
part. I have to be ready to respond quickly. But I never come
to a performance with a pre-planned overall sketch. I know the
system inside out and so do the performers; it's composition
from improvisation. If you over-plan, you kill it!"
Obviously
musical improvisation is nothing new, but a work encompassing
music, singing, acting, and dancing, all directed by one person,
is still novel. What in the world led Thompson to this new artistic
ground? "I've always mixed up concepts and ideas in as many
ways as I could think of," he replies. "I arrived at
my work now somewhat by necessity and somewhat by accident. The
addition of dancers and actors to the orchestra was a natural
progression. I have been working as a composer in theatre and
dance for the past 20 years. When I was commissioned a few years
ago by Lincoln Center to write a piece that would include the
audience, I decided to base the piece on the concept of a 'town
hall meeting.' I brought actors into my orchestra for this piece
and it just opened up a whole new world of possibilities in Sound
Painting."
Speaking
of audience participation, when you attend a Sound Painting
performance, you become part of the work. Thompson gives
the audience a set of simple instructions complete with its own
gestures. When he signals the audience to join in, the theatre
becomes a huge, hilarious buzzing hive of sounds and aural textures;
everyone in the house is performing! "It's important for
me to break down the barrier between performer and audience," Thompson
states. "I don't mind showing the magic of how things work.
I also love the textures and sounds that come from an audience.
You can't get those sounds from a trained chorus."
The
complexity, diversity, and pace of a Sound Painting performance
often reflects life in this age of multimedia information overload.
In fact, Thompson's work has been compared to a 500-channel satellite
dish. That reflection is part of a conscious effort by Thompson
-- but only part. "I try to work into my compositions what
I deal with in everyday life," he says. "Sound Painting
by its very nature is a monster that eats everything! In other
words, I take my material from wherever or whatever sparks my
interest."
That
may come from almost anywhere, the composer says. "Everything
from the television and movie media to the sort of comical political
forms -- like what's happening with the president -- to seeing
and hearing all kinds of musical and visual stimulation. It's
not so much what's going on in the art world, but more of what's
going on in general. That's where I draw my material from."
Thompson's
mention of "comical political forms" reminds
me how funny last year's performance was. Humor came through
loud and clear, and it was amazing to see a non-verbal "joke," if
you will, crack up an entire audience.
Thompson
allows that numerous comedic influences go into the work. "Cartoon
music, Spike Jones, horror film scores -- I love this stuff!
I have a number of gestures that elicit humor
from the performers. [Since] the direction the Sound Painting
takes is always in my hands as the composer/conductor, if the
work starts to become humorous it's because I've felt this is
the natural direction the piece should take. There are times
when something happens, like an audience member dropping a bottle
or something like that, and I direct the whole orchestra to 'heckle'
that person. I wouldn't do this unless it happened in a part
of the composition that would lend itself to a humorous direction."
Thompson
even has a series of gestures that he uses to "steer
the composition toward humor." They include heckle, vamp,
murderous intent, jock mode, imitate, and over the top. Many
of the musical jokes remind me of Peter Schickele's P. D.Q. Bach
material, in which Schickele satirizes classical music through
the guise of a fictitious brother of Johann Sebastian. The humor
in Thompson's work ranges from parodies of standard musical themes
to flatulent sounds from a tuba. The addition of singers and
actors on the stage also lends itself to humor; silly sounds
from a classically trained voice, for instance, or actors interpreting
apparently meaningless texts with exaggerated intention or emotion.
If
one can judge from the comments of Jason Phelps and Joshua
Taylor, the two actors in last year's FronteraFest performance,
the experience of working on Sound Painting is as fun as listening
to it. "Sound Painting is amazing for me," says Phelps, "because
I don't consider myself a traditional actor. I also dance, write,
and do sound design, so I think of acting and performing as musical,
rhythmic, and physical languages for me to use and abuse and
sculpt much like a band does."
The chemistry between Phelps and Taylor was a key component
in the overall strength of last year's Sound Painting performance.
Both actors seemed quite comfortable in the precarious position
of having to improvise on the spot.
"Jason and I
have worked together several times and have known each other
for years," says Taylor, "so we have
a good idea where the other might be going, although not so much
that we can't be surprised."
"All the stuff Josh and I did last year was totally improvised," says
Phelps. "We chose some random text to bring in, then Walter
would gesture for 'text palette 1' and we would have already
assigned that palette before the performance; then we would just
riff off each other."
"We used a Subaru car manual from Jason's car and a few
different self-help books as sources," Taylor adds, "but
that's about it."
"A lot of it really depends on chemistry and listening
to each other," Phelps continues. "This work does not
fly with ego-driven performers. You must be able to make yourself
vulnerable and trust Walter and your other players to compose
as a whole."
This
year's performances will be based around a common theme, "transformation," and
each night's performance will build on the previous one. Taylor
won't say too much about how this will work. "I can tell
you how we think it's going to work," he offers. "The
thing about Sound Painting is that it always comes out a bit
different than you expect. We stumbled on the idea of 'transformation'
as an idea big enough to contain whatever possible mutations
the reality of a fixed theme might hand us. [Working] with a
fixed text ... yielded some interesting results, but ultimately
it was too confining and left little room for true on-the-spot
composition. So now we are just trying to go into the performances
with a few pieces of text and a general notion that we are trying
to compose with and we'll see what happens."
Another
new link in the evolutionary chain of Sound Painting is the
addition of visual artists, such as painters, video artists,
and filmmakers. In Austin, artist Lisa Miller will add her video
projections to the Sound Painting mix. Visual artists learn the
Sound Painting language, then they "have to respond in their
medium the same way a dancer responds using the body," Thompson
explained. "A painter might have several locations on the
stage that she can work with, but only when gestured. A gesture
such as 'long tone' means one thing to a musician and something
else to a dancer and something else to an actor and something
else to a visual artist, but all the disciplines respond to the
same gestures. I sculpt the look of the room as the composition
develops."
This
evolutionary growth of Sound Painting shows no signs of slowing
in the future. Thompson has copyrighted and trademarked
Sound Painting, and he plans to train other composers in using
his system. He is writing a book explaining the process, and
hopes to release the system in the next few years. He has received
several grants to teach Sound Painting to youngsters in schools,
and last summer a Sound Painting "think tank" drew
nearly 100 musicians, dancers, actors and artists to Woodstock
for a month-long brainstorming session in which over 150 gestures
were added to the vocabulary. The success of his new artform
has surprised and delighted Thompson, who quipped that he now "almost
makes a living at Sound Painting."
Thompson
said that he is excited about returning to Austin. "Last
year was just incredible. I talk about it all the time. The crowds
got better and more excited each night, and we got a standing
ovation every night. Incredible!"