I use the word “soundscapes” – well, mostly because series host John Kennedy used it while introducing program IV of the ever-adventurous Music in Time series yesterday; but also because some of this material struck me as being more soundscapes than music. The term applied in particular to the opening work, Six Japanese Gardens, by Finnish composer Kaija Saariaho.

Written for assorted percussion instruments and recorded sounds from each of the six “title gardens,” much of the recorded material was distinctly non-musical, often sounding like random background noise. There were several instances of chanting, most notably from a temple garden – but the only other remotely musical effects were from assorted background gongs and bells, including what sounded like finger-cymbals. There were plenty of tones — but rather few actual notes with a discernible pitch to them.

Percussionist David Tolen expertly manned the necessary battery of varied percussion instruments, plus the necessary electronics. We heard everything from standard drums to tambourine, woodblocks and a gong – plus assorted bells and other tinkly devices. But his use of them was mostly rather subtle and subdued, matching the recorded material. Violence is not a common vibe in Japanese gardens. One of the pieces – with it’s slow, steady beat beneath a bed of night-sounds (buzzing insects, etc.), sounded like a procession by night. Another sounded like temple bells (from the percussion) over repetitive (looped?) chanting. Each piece was an effective sound-painting – but I’m still asking myself if it was really music, at least as most of us define it. And that’s one thing that today’s best composers make you do: ask questions.

Kennedy also managed to fit yet another composition by Amistad composer Anthony Davis into the program: his Stillwater Suite, for flute, cello and piano. This one sounded like nothing I’ve heard previously from Davis (including his earlier MIT program, duly blogged about below). I heard no African-American roots music influences at all here. It was apparently an impressionistic piece, “reflecting” sheets of still water on a street (put your imagination to work on that one). The piece had no apparent diatonic structure, sounding freely atonal (but not serial). We got quite an array of warbling, twittering sounds (ripples on the surface, maybe?), thanks to some especially close collaboration between flute and piano — with general kibitzing from the cello. The overall effect was pretty cool and convincing, though not always pretty. Performing were Michael Baitzer (a brilliant Spoleto staff pianist) and two accomplished members of the Spoleto Festival Orchestra: cellist Yanghee Lee and flutist Sooyun Kim.

The fascinating music of Ingram Marshall ended the concert — but not before Kennedy tossed us an interesting tidbit: Marshall was once the college roommate of not only Anthony Davis — but also of John Adams: one of America’s most successful current composers. Funny how smart, creative folk tend to find each other .. and learn from each other.

Marshall’s evocative Sea Tropes is based on tunes from sea-chanties and sailing songs (from several cultures), layered over actual recorded sounds of the sea (like breaking waves in Maine). That makes it “water music,” too — just like the previous (but entirely different) piece from Davis. Now I wouldn’t give you the time of day for something like the Pachelbel Canon, doctored up for the new age crowd with “soothing sounds of the sea.” Yecchh. But there’s nothing wrong with hearing them as a part of the composer’s original design. I recognized a tune or three, and caught him using at least one of them canonically. Five fine players (on flute, violin, clarinet(s), cello and marimba) from the SFO did the polished honors. Really appealing stuff. And a great way to wrap up another stimulating evening at MIT.