(Photos by Peter Checchia)

Ok, so you know how people have this thing about classical music putting them to sleep? Well, they should have showed up to Carnegie last night, where the Chicago Symphony presented an uncompromising program by three 20th century sound villains, with a fourth overseeing the proceedings from the podium. 

Pierre Boulez eased us in with a pair of works that showed Stravinsky's softer side. The Symphony in Three Movements (1945) immediately struck me a bridgework between minimalism and European modernism: some of the chords and string repetitions seem lifted directly from John Adams (or, rather, the other way around.) The Four Studies for Orchestra (1914-1930) were adapted from music originally written for string quartet and pianola, and while filled with bird song and other surprising techniques, felt a bit thin by comparison. 

A slimmed-down version of the CSO performed Elliott Carter's Reflexions, which he wrote for the Ensemble Intercontermporain in honor of Boulez' 80th birthday in 2005. Boulez and Carter have known each other for more than fifty years, and have shared a symbiotic relationship: Boulez conducted much of Carter's work both with the Ensemble Intercontemporain and New York Philharmonic, when he was music director there in the 70's. Carter has offered advice and feedback on Boulez' own compositions over the years. As if to honor his friend's enfant terrible rep, Reflexions was mostly harsh noise, with the low rumble of a contrabassoon sounding like an animal stuck in a drain hole. Carter was in the audience, and the crowd stood en masse to applaud, irregardless of what they actually thought of the piece.

"I hear this next music is really dynamic!" I overheard one unsuspecting patron say before the CSO launched into the all-Varèse second half. Some 80 years on, Varèse's music still has the power to shock and appall: it is wild, feral, violent, on the very border of listenability. Ionisation (1931) is full of percussion and circus-like sounds that make one want to crack up (as concertmaster David Chen appeared to be throughout the opening bars.) But Ameriques (1927) is a full-on aural assault, with harsh dissonance followed by a spread in the strings that seemed lifted directly from Carter. After more than twenty excrutiating minutes, it ended with a huge crescendo in the brass and percussion that was louder than anything I've ever heard in Carnegie Hall. It was absolutely brutal: like being hit in the head repeatedly with a sledgehammer. 

Not only did folks not walk out, they stood when it came time to applaud. After decades of seeing patrons shout down this music, I can only imagins Boulez' deep sense of satisfaction - if not vindication - that he's lived long enough to see people's ears open up. (More pics below.)