![]() ![]() ![]() Is this the sound of chaos, scientific precision, or both?Īfter a while, something magical begins to happen. The resultant rhythm is a trainwreck of the wildest proportions, sounding more like a factory gone haywire than a piano composition. Additional flurries of notes enter along with some jackhammering chords. They appear to be speeding up at different rates, eventually moving much faster than the ear or eye can keep up with. A series of angular, vaguely bluesy melodies emerge, each playing at a different tempo. ![]() ![]() As the roll begins to turn, the buttons start to move up and down, each one triggering a wooden hammer to strike a steel string. He steps up to the contraption and attaches a paper roll punched full of holes to a spindle above the buttons, then quietly exits the stage. The 50 year old, Arkansas-born composer named Conlon Nancarrow is presenting his first public solo concert after spending fifteen years working with this strange instrument in self-imposed isolation in Mexico City. A large wooden machine with a row of black and white buttons sits alone onstage, waiting for a cue to begin the performance. Palacio de Bellas Artes, Mexico City, 1962. ![]()
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