Description
Listening is the foundation of Raven Chacon's (b. 1977) wide-ranging artistic practice. "I am a listener," he simply declares, but the attention he gives to sound is complex and vast, encompassing far more than what is immediately audible. From his earliest works, Chacon has been dedicated to amplifying the unheard, calling attention to what is absent or unknown. Although Chacon classifies the compositions on this recording as chamber music, all three of these works "zigzag" through his noise studies and sound installations by integrating electronic sounds, extended instrumental techniques, evocations of sociopolitical themes, and, in the case of Voiceless Mass, the condition of site-specificity.
Derived from the Navajo word for "song," Biyan (2011) [flute, clarinet, violin, cello, and percussion] denotes Chacon's reflection on the function of singing in Navajo ceremonies, where repetition can continue throughout the night. The work's three movements, played without pause, are organized in a block structure of repeating patterns, allowing listeners time to dwell in the mesmerizing soundscape and focus on the constantly changing micro-acoustic details.
Owl Song (2021), for sinfonietta and voice, "is an acknowledgment of the nocturnal hunting bird, considered by some to have the ability of shapeshifting," Chacon writes. "Owl Song asks its instrumentalists to cycle through a variety of timbres on their instruments, often with individual speeds to traverse the composition. They are sometimes guided by a voice, her distance unmeasurable from themselves, and must call out not to locate her position, but to see if she is still with them."
Voiceless Mass (2021), for pipe organ and large ensemble, was commissioned byWI Conference of the United Church of Christ, Plymouth Church UCC, and Present Music, and composed specifically for the Nichols & Simpson organ at TheCathedral of St. John the Evangelist in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The commission offered Chacon a valuable opportunity to address critical issues concerning the legacy of the Catholic Church and the atrocities committed against Indigenous peoples--particularly the residential schools, forced assimilation, and abuse of Indigenous youth--and Chacon was eager to evoke this history directly within the walls of the sanctified institution. "This work," he writes, "considers the spaces in which we gather, the history of access of these spaces, and the land upon which these buildings sit." Though the title refers to a "Mass," the liturgical rite and choral genre common to many Christian denominations, there are no vocal parts and no audible singing. "In exploiting the architecture of the cathedral," Chacon explains, "Voiceless Massconsiders the futility of giving voice to thevoiceless, when ceding space is never an option for those in power."
