Canadian composers have managed, at least to some degree, to avoid the dichotomy between "high" and "low" art that causes so much animosity on the American new music scene; advocates of "popular" classical composers such as
Glass and
Adams, and of "serious" classical composers like
Babbitt and Carter, tend to be divided by distrust, if not downright contempt for each other's aesthetic. Québécois composer André Hamel is one of a substantial group of Canadian composers who draws freely and productively on a variety of traditions, without embarrassment or apology. His À Huit for eight saxophones is remarkable in that it sounds like it was created almost entirely with computer-generated sonorities and not by live performers. In fact, the sounds it uses consist entirely of samples Hamel made of each of the eight saxophonists, with which he constructed an electronic version of the piece without altering the sounds electronically. The transcription he made from the tape collage became the score from which the live performers work. The astonishing range of sonorities he is able to coax out of the ensemble would be impressive in itself, but he uses the sounds to make a cogent, shapely, and engaging piece. His Trilogie du Presto consists of three solo pieces, one each for percussion, cello, and piano, notable for their rhythmic energy and their melodic and textural inventiveness. L'Heure Bleu, for electronically enhanced harpsichord and ambient sounds, is an appealing amalgam of charged ostinatos, timbral novelties, and harmonies that range from the astringent to the luxuriantly rich. Hamel's performers bring formidable virtuosity to his pieces and invest them with utter commitment. Atma's sound is crisp and bright, with a strong sense of presence.