Often, when wandering through the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, a viewer must wonder why the the museum was in a spiral shape. Surely, this shape might limit the art that could be displayed. What exactly was Frank Lloyd Wright‘s vision of the ideal occupants for his structure? Well, the performance of Henry Brant’s “Orbits: A Spatial Symphonic Ritual,” performed by eighty trombonists, an organist (William Trafka) and an unearthly soprano (Phyllis Bruce), certainly answered the questions posed by bemused museum goers (those sick of climbing a spiral and being uncertain as to what floor they are on). Henry Brant’s piece seemed to have been meant solely for performance in a gigantic spiral.

The Guggenheim was perfect for a concert of eighty trombones, apt to accommodate startled listeners, craning their necks as they stared at the impending doom above them. (The inevitable neck cramps were worth it.) Eighty trombones, especially playing such a dissonant piece without much of a melodic direction, could only be successfully satisfying in the Guggenheim. In a concert hall, it might have been even dull. Within that lobby, it was surreal.

At first, the audience faced the conductor, unsure of which direction they should look. As the piece progressed however, the audience threw away such conventions as facing the same direction throughout a concert, and rotated to observe new sources of interesting sounds. It was like attending an enjoyable apocalypse. Neely Bruce, co-executor of Brant’s musical estate, described “Orbits” as “eight clumps of brontosaurs bellowing back and forth at each other from different points on a curving hillside.” Clearly, judging from the song of the brontosaurs, an asteroid had just hit. Atonal phrases filled the air, punctuated by a brief, though weighty, organ and frightening soprano, and accompanied by the sounds of startled, crying babies in the audience.

Henry Brant wrote “Orbits” for eighty trombones, divided into groups of ten, with a different part for each member of a group, as well as a soprano and an organ, which filled up gaps. The piece was dissonant, exciting, and titillating, as well as disturbing. Since the mass of trombones were divided into small groups, every trombonist had essentially a different part, and the effect of so many voices further evoked apocalyptic chaos. The organ and soprano contributed to the music a feeling of angst, especially the organ, which was located on the floor, next to the audience. It was impressive that the organ and soprano, dynamically, were not in the slightest overshadowed by the many clamorous trombones. Although the many trombones were not actually playing very loudly, the concert left everyone with a general impression of the most thunderous forte.

Here’s some found footage of the show….