As the guitarist for hard-edged pop-rock band Incubus, Mike Einziger has headlined arenas and festivals around the globe. But standing in a rehearsal room at Los Angeles Valley College in front of an meeting place of trained musicians geartrain up to perform his "End.>vacuum," an ambitious "Realization in Nine Movements" that will give birth its premiere today at UCLA's Royce Hall, he seems, easily, nervous.
Einziger, 32, fiddles with various keyboards and devices, including three vintage typewriters and an old gramophone that he and 2 friends will play to supplement the more traditional orchestra. It's clear he understands the pitfalls of such ventures.
While a handful of bikers have set up success and acclaim in orchestral settings -- Danny Elfman, Frank Zappa, Radiohead�s Jonny Greenwood -- others have total off as overreaching dilettantes or, worse, pretentious boors. But the Calabasas aboriginal, who's around to head east to study medicine at Harvard, says the risk was necessary for him creatively.
"I'll be the first person to tell you things could go horribly amiss," he says. "At the same time, I ask, 'Why would I only stay in my ease zone?' I've always followed my musical instincts. If it all workings out bad, that volition be what happens: It will be horrible and people will laugh, and I'll just have to figure out what to do afterwards that."
Einziger's inspiration for the piece came from the Disney animated showcase "Fantasia," a constant presence in his childhood, and he first began working on "End.>vacuum" in the spring of last year patch he was recovering from surgery to correct wrist bone tunnel syndrome. He received encouragement from his longtime friend Elfman and his mother, Nancy, a music teacher.
The claim functions as a word illustration of the approximation that "the end of life and existence as we know it" leads to "the return to the vacuum of blank we exist in, or we think we exist in," Einziger says.
Tonight's performance will be prefaced by a short talk about modern scientific discipline by physicist-author-educator Brian Cox, whom Einziger met on a chitchat to the site of the Large Hadron Collider being built under the French-Swiss mete -- quantum physics existence another interest of the musician. The performance will be accompanied by visuals designed by several of Einziger's friends, and 3-D glasses will be distributed to the audience.
At the rehearsal, orchestrator-conductor Suzie Katayama, a ex-serviceman of rock/classical intersections, addresses the problems of perception when it comes to these sort of things as she formally introduces Einziger to the musicians.
"This is his legitimate . . . ," she catches herself on the word before continuing, "his real music." Perhaps realizing that still sounds like a backhanded compliment, she quickly adds, "Other than rock 'n' roll."
As Katayama leads the more-than-50-strong ensemble through the first parallel bars of the opening move, titled "Exit Lense," it's clear that the composer is no dilettante. The jagged pulse rate of Igor Stravinsky and the glissando and smooth swoops and flutters of Gy�rgy Ligeti, two of many 20th century influences Einziger readily discusses, come forth as prominent elements.
The musicians, veteran orchestra pros assorted with some Incubus syndicate and friends, start to show both confidence and connection with the largely tonal but harmonically layered music. Mom Nancy beams from a chair off to the side. The energetic, piquant Katayama keeps the spirit at erst vibrant and focused.
Einziger's work plays with time. Pulsating tribal/mechanical rhythms melt into sustained, most static stretches before the rhythm reemerges. The early-'80s large ensemble work of John Adams comes to mind, merely the character of the piece is Einziger's own.
During a check, Einziger seems happy, if a bit dazed. He can credibly relax. The musicians experience. Harpist Gayle Levant smiles broadly between movements and says, "I'm having a ball!"
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