Words like "approachable" and "engaging" are rarely invoked when describing the work of so-called avant-garde musicians, and it sometimes seems true that avant experimentalists bend over backwards to push mainstream listeners away rather than welcome them. Not so
Iva Bittova, a composer, violinist, and vocalist who proves that the avant-garde can be broadly appealing without compromising its adventurous spirit. On
Elida,
Bittova succeeds in humanizing
the Bang on a Can All-Stars, that collective of New Yorkers often primarily noted for mind-boggling technical skills when tackling the formidable minimalist and post-minimalist works of modern composers like
Louis Andriessen and the
Bang on a Can collective's own
Michael Gordon. Here, a six-piece incarnation of
the All-Stars is her backing band, and the musicians prove to be ideally suited to the task, a dose of
Bittova's Eastern European folk, chamber music, and cabaret proving the ideal formula to reveal their softer and more intimate sides. That is not to suggest that
the All-Stars have lost their edge here, or that
Bittova's unbridled exuberance is not on full display. Thankfully,
Bittova's singing (in her native Czech) remains far from the plastic posturing of the typical mid-2000s pop diva, yet her catalog of wild vocal techniques is not avant-garde for the sake of being avant-garde -- it seems a natural and effortless outgrowth of her music's core melodies and rhythms and the artfully yearning images painted by her lyricists (
Richard Mueller,
Vladimir Vaclavek, and
Vera Chase).
The album follows a thoughtful and well-conceived trajectory, with
Bittova's shouting, babbling, and skittering vocals making an early entrance on "Maliri V Parizi" (Painters in Paris) but seeming to slide gracefully into a mature beauty before the listener's ears as the album progresses, although she never completely abandons her childlike playful qualities. Likewise, her violin assumes increasing prominence as
Elida's initial cabaret atmosphere (with
Lisa Moore's wonderful pianisms on full display) makes way for a fuller -- yet often delicate and understated -- ensemble sound.
Bittova dips into idiosyncratic yet compelling jazz-like scatting on "Bolis Me, Lasko" (You're Hurting Me Babe), while the two-part "Zapishej" (Whistle), an album highlight, displays her wonderful talents in synchronous singing and violin playing, both in the uptempo folk dance-like opening and the piece's centerpiece, a beautiful extended 5/4 vamp taken at a measured pace, colored by a mysterious guitar motif, driven by subtle bass and brushed drums, and embellished with pizzicato strings. Gypsy flavors can be heard in both "Zapishej" and "Hopahop Talita," the album's two lengthiest pieces, particularly in
Evan Ziporyn's clarinet lines, and one also hears echoes of
Tom Cora in
Wendy Sutter's cello on the title track, which flirts with avant European folk-rock and may have certain listeners recalling
Nimal or
Skeleton Crew (an impression enhanced by some
Fred Frith-like guitar from
Mark Stewart, a member of
Frith's
Guitar Quartet).
Elida is an essential release in
Iva Bittova's catalog, and a fine introduction to her music for those unfamiliar with her. And it's a worthy
Bang on a Can All-Stars entry, too, particularly if you're not in a mood for minimalism. ~ Dave Lynch
![A Winter's Solstice [2001]](http://prodimage.images-bn.com/pimages/0886977153327_p0_v2_s90x140.jpg "A Winter's Solstice [2001]")
