Category Archives: music

Ilhan Mimaroglu, a Personal Appreciation


I remember first coming across the music of Ilhan Mimaroglu on a Turnabout LP of electronic music in the 1970s. The unusual sounding name stuck in my head. And as I continued exploring and collecting contemporary music I would occasionally run across his name.

In the 1980s I came across tantalizing descriptions of his work in various record catalogs like one which stated that the music included a recording of Che Guevara’s autopsy (To Kill a Sunrise). I remained intrigued.

It wasn’t until the 1990s that I resolved to get a more comprehensive take on his music and to obtain as much of his it as I could find. At that time I had to rely on e-bay where I was able to find a couple of CD compilations and a copy of the anti-war LP “Sing Me a Song of Songmy”, a collaboration of sorts between Mimaroglu and the Freddie Hubbard Quintet. A good representative selection of his work can currently be found on the Ubu web site as well as the Avant Garde Project. And according to the discogs web site (which lists about 58 albums in which he was involved) his LPs are selling for any where from about $10 to about $80.

Born in 1926 in Istanbul he earned a degree in law before coming to the United States. Mimaroglu studied with (among others) electronic music pioneer Vladimir Ussachevsky at the Columbia-Princeton Electronic Music Center, the prominent east coast workshop where Milton Babbitt created some of his masterpieces and where Edgar Varese, Luciano Berio, Mario Davidovsky, Charles Wourinen and other luminaries worked and studied.

Through his work at the venerable Atlantic Records, along with fellow émigrés Ahmet and Nesuhi Ertegun he produced jazz and blues albums, most notably with Charles Mingus. Here he was able to establish his own record label, Finnadar. He released his own music and that of other avant garde composers such as Luciano Berio, Anthony Braxton, Henry Cowell, Morton Feldman, Pierre Boulez, Frederic Rzewski and others. One of my favorites and a classic, in my humble opinion, is The Adoration of the Clash, a recording by pianist Doris Hays of music by Hays, Feldman and others. In short he strove to promote some difficult listening by avant garde composers of the day.

He had an interest in agitprop, art that expresses political views. (The term is a portmanteau of agitation and propaganda and was coined in the 1930s in communist philosophical circles.) Indeed much of Mimaroglu’s work has overtly political themes. In a 1975 interview with Charles Amirkhanian he expressed his distaste for folk music, particularly that of his native Turkey and that region of the world, because he says it supports oppressive regimes.

In addition to his work with Charles Mingus he is noted for having some of his music grace the soundtrack of Frederico Fellini’s ‘Satyricon’. But his music understandably reached a limited audience. His music can be harsh and is intentionally disturbing dealing with disturbing themes. But it is well crafted and has a distinctive sound. Fans of the avant garde should definitely seek out his work.

In the course of collecting his music I came to learn that Mimaroglu was also a writer along with being a composer, producer and teacher (Ingram Marshall is among his students). He died July 17th of 2012 in Manhattan. And, though anyone’s passing is a time for sorrow, it is a time for reflection and frequently resurrection by renewed interest. I hope that more of this important figure’s work will come to light in the months and years to come. RIP.

Cançonièr at the Berkeley Festival Fringe


Full moon presides over exsanguinous tales.

Last night, local early music ensemble Cançonièr performed in what was their last appearance until next year.  In the somewhat noisy parish hall of St. Mark’s Episcopal Church this four member ensemble played a slightly condensed version of a program they have been touring for the last year or so.  It was a program called ‘Black Dragon’ with music from the first half of the 15th century, the time of the reign of Count Vlad Dracula, the historical antecedent of the vampire character.

Cançonièr is a four member ensemble co-directed by Tim Rayborn and Annette Bauer.  The other two regulars are Shira Kammen and Phoebe Jevtovic.  All are amazing instrumentalists and scholars in their own right and all play in other ensembles and groupings.

Tim Rayborn is a medieval scholar , multi-instrumentalist, singer and performer.  Annette Bauer is a recorder virtuoso, multi-instrumentalist and singer.  Shira Kammen plays vielle (antecedent of the violin/viola), medieval harp and sings.  And Phoebe Jevtovic is a singer who also does double duty by playing a small bell set in some of the pieces.

Annette Bauer demonstrates her virtuosity on the recorder.

Tim Rayborn

Tim Rayborn providing context and performing.

The group goes beyond their scholarship (which is excellent) and puts their performances in context.  They provide translations of the words they sing (frequently in dead or antiquated languages) and they connect with their audience with a pleasant sense of humor as well as drama.

Shira Kammen playing the vielle.

They clearly enjoy playing together and seem very connected, deriving great pleasure from making music.  And they produce a beautiful sound with their intricately crafted replicas of the instruments of the time.

Phoebe Jevtovic sings accompanied by Tim Rayborn on the lute.

One complaint.  The location of this church at Bancroft and Ellsworth makes for a bit of urban distraction provided by sirens and traffic.  And there were apparently other activities going on in the church complex which could be occasionally heard.  But the musicians and audience handled the distractions in a good-natured manner consistent with the rest of their performances.

They began and ended their intermissionless program with a narrative drama with music partly sung, partly spoken or intoned but performed with characteristic flair by Tim Rayborn accompanied by himself on frame drum and the ensemble.  This was a jaunty upbeat sounding piece at the outset that gives way to the narrative talking/singing about the infamous subject of this performance here called Dracula of Wallachia.  The language here sounded like an old German dialect and after the brief but harrowing telling of the story in speech and song (the speech gratefully rendered in English) the jaunty music of the beginning returns to conclude the piece.  One can imagine this being performed in a tavern or inn by a troubadour or group of musicians for the guests.

Rayborn then spoke to the audience providing more context by explaining that tonight’s music is from the time of the Count’s reign but that it is not known if he indeed had musicians in his court.  And for those who do not know the story of ‘Vlad the impaler’, as he was known, this is pretty grisly stuff.  Reality programming from the dark ages if you will.

There followed two more composed songs, a folk song, a traditional Romanian dance,  a heart-rending Moldavian chant passionately sung by Jevtovic and a traditional Bulgarian dance.

I have not bothered to mention the composers’ names (which were listed in the printed program) because they are very little know and would likely clutter this little narrative.  My apologies to the composers and the scholars if I have offended in my omissions.

Left to right: Shira Kammen, Annette Bauer and Phoebe Jevtovic demonstrating their vocal collaboration.

But the next piece was by a composer familiar to anyone who has taken a course in western music history, Guillame Dufay (1397-1474).  The work of this composer, who provided a lot of sacred music for the church as well as secular pieces, was so successful that his work and his name have survived the ravages of history.  The ‘Lamentio Sanctae Matris Ecclesiae Constantinopolitanae’ required the vocal skills of all four in the group as well as instrumental accompaniment.  And they did so beautifully singing, we were told, in two different languages as the piece is originally written.

There followed an Italian dance, a Byzantine secular court piece called a “kratima” (spell check is practically useless here), a medieval Russian pilgrim  song and an Ottoman Turkish piece followed by a very spirited reprise of the first piece.

The ensemble clearly enjoys their music making.

All in all a very satisfying evening and a clearly appreciative audience sent this writer out into the Berkeley night not with nightmarish images but with the tunes of this joyful performance ringing in his head (medieval earworms?).  And I popped one of their CDs in my car stereo for the ride home.  I could easily hear this again.