Claire Chase drew a full house at Le Poisson Rouge last night for the pre-release of her new CD, Terrestre. The stage, bathed in red and blue spotlights and sporting a forest of microphones, gave notice that this would not be a typical art-music performance. Indeed, Ms. Chase's program teetered on the theatrical – and not only because it included a spoken-word segment with liner notes scribe Laura Mullen (something of a non-sequitur, I must admit.) You will probably never see a more physically vigorous flautist in recital. Ms. Chase gave her whole body over to the flow of the music.
Chase's concert opened with "Glacier" by Japanese composer Dai Fujikura, a solo for bass flute. Ms. Chase turned this instrument's hollow, windy, and difficult-to-control sound (an effect of its extreme length) to her advantage in an arresting performance, the sustained notes fading until only the clicking of the flute keys could be heard.
Pianist Jacob Greenberg joined Ms. Chase – this time on a standard flute – for Pierre Boulez's "Sonatine," from Boulez's early enfant terrible phase. It is an unfortunate feature of this music that every moment of apparent coherence is bought by moments that sound like someone rolling a Steinway down the stairs, and players must simply bring listeners through it as best they can. The two musicians had wonderful communication and precision, generating some interesting moments, but there is no doubt that this is a hard piece to grasp live.
The third – and last – number was the CD's title track, Kaija Saariaho's "Terrestre", which put Ms. Chase's theatrical talents to the test. Its first, vigorous, section involved singing, spitting, and fluttering into the flute, expanding the instrument's sound above several of her ICE colleagues (the International Contemporary Ensemble) on violin, cello, harp, and percussion. Singing nonsense words into an instrument flirts with the absurd, though here Ms. Chase's natural enthusiasm helped to put it over. Nonetheless, I found the quieter second section, as the accompanying instruments slowly wound down underneath, more effective and grounding.
But my main "complaint" – with tongue firmly in cheek – is that the program, at barely 45 minutes, was far too short.