Spectralism is a type of composition that is organized by taking as its basis aspects of the harmonic series, or the overtones resulting from a sounding pitch. From the 1970s onward, composers, many of them residing in France or Romania, have looked at spectrograms of sounds to plot out the harmonies that they will deploy over time in a piece. This may sound rarified, but it is also one of the oldest traditions in music. Early humans listened for resonances, particularly in caves, some even using conch shells (brought in from many miles away) to create loud enough sounds to hear lots of reverberating overtones. Throat singers manipulate their voices to sound more than a single pitch at a time. If you have ever heard a bunch of higher sounds chiming after you sing a phrase in the shower, you too have been creating overtones.
Costin Miereanu (b. 1943) is both a spectral composer and an early adopter of synthesizers. He combined these two interests to make music distributed on a series of self-released cassettes and LP. As you can imagine, these are now collectors’ items that can blow up a bidding war on eBay and get big bucks on Discogs. Now, the labels Metaphon and Auryfa have brought together a bunch of Miereanu’s recordings from the mid 1970s to the early 1980s in a six CD boxed set with a generous program booklet.
Finis-Terre (“End of the Earth,’ 1978) is a good example of Miereanu’s spectralism, with resounding drones that correspond to a fundamental pitch and distinct overtones thereof that are allowed to ring out for its side length duration. There are dynamic shifts, with various swells and decrescendos providing variety. The timbre of each overtone is distinct, some noisy or pulsating, while others are purer in tone. A companion piece, Terre de Feu (“Land of Fire,” 1976) brings the bass, with sepulchral tones rumbling and oscillating higher octaves punctuating the proceedings.
While his interest in the postwar European avant-garde was important, Miereanu also looked to burgeoning trends in the United States for inspiration. Minimalism was in ascent, and he decided that, bona fides be damned, he would try it out in an ambitious piece that addressed climate change before we moved to the climate disaster phase. Musique Climatique (“Climate Music,’ 1979) has overlapping piano ostinatos, in a spectral pattern but constantly repeating, as well as spoken word passages describing weather and travel en francais and in accented English. Musique Climatique leads with minimalism, but the spoken passages are also reminiscent of multimedia pieces by Alvin Lucier, Meredith Monk, and Robert Ashley. There’s also more than a touch of the Philip Glass opera Einstein on the Beach, with its intoning of the title character’s musings,in the inflections of the voices in Musique Climatique. One wonders what éminences grises of the avant-garde like Pierre Boulez, Iannis Xenakis, and Karlheinz Stockhausen thought of the catholicity of Miereanu’s tastes. No matter, it makes a deep dive into this boxed set surprising and delightful.
