Carlberg’s galvanizing original pieces.

Mak-
VIRTUAL POP ing use of two vocalists and a full contingent
of horns, Carlberg calls on this material, as
well as new work in the same vein, at this
highly personal tribute, which honors the late
maestro’s hundred-and-fifth birthday.—Steve
Futterman (Dizzy’s Club; Oct. 17.)

Rhiannon Giddens
FOLK The cerebral roots singer Rhiannon Gid-
dens studied opera before redirecting her
talents to the banjo—the secret desire, one
devilishly dreams, of every aspiring prima
donna. Although her early work in the string
band the Carolina Chocolate Drops might ap-
pear to be a repudiation of this rigid musical
background, with every year Giddens seems
to sprout a new artistic tentacle, many of
which snake into the classical realm. As one
of Carnegie Hall’s “Perspectives” residents,
the musician spreads out across the building’s
different stages for four distinct concerts. The
series launches this week, pairing Giddens’s
grave voice with the piano of Francesco Tur-
risi, her romantic and musical partner; the set
connects the dots between African American
spirituals, Italian folk music, Baroque songs,
arias, and more. Subsequent concerts include
The nature of the virtual artist has shifted in the twenty-first century— a quartet of banjo players presenting the in-
think Vocaloid-generated stars and A.I.-fuelled rap projects—but Gorillaz strument from a Black-female perspective
has remained true to its man-powered cartoon-band setup. Founded, in and a night featuring the Silkroad Ensemble,
a global-music junction point with a busy
1998, as an attempt to reimagine the Svengali-entertainer relationship, artistic director: Rhiannon Giddens.—Jay
the collaboration between the musician Damon Albarn and the artist Ruttenberg (Weill Recital Hall; Oct. 15.)
Jamie Hewlett revels in a forward-facing artificiality that’s more meta-
phoric than functional. Even as the digital proxies stay immutable, the Sudan Archives
music made by their creators has evolved from the trip-hop-inspired ART POP The soulful electroacoustic songs of
alt-rock of their self-titled début to an eclectic pop sound that makes Los Angeles’s Brittney Parks, created under
the moniker Sudan Archives, exude idiosyn-
space for even the most unusual pairings: Elton John and 6lack, GoldLink crasy on a cellular level. Following her début,
and UMO, Tony Allen and Skepta. For the band’s stage show, Albarn in 2017, Parks became known as a violin virtu-
and other flesh-and-blood performers bring the cartoon projections to oso who used her instrument to transpose the
bounce and swagger of hip-hop and R. & B.
life, often alongside real—and sometimes famous—guests. But the most with pizzicato-powered minimalism, all in-
intriguing part of the electronic display, let loose at Barclays Center on spired by the history of African fiddlers. But
Oct. 12, is the music itself.—Sheldon Pearce if Parks once seemed to sketch pop ideas like
daydreams, she now casts her experimen-
tal vision in wide-screen. Her latest album,
“Natural Brown Prom Queen,” which features
searching for ecstasy amid dirt and detritus, traditions in “Recital No. 1: Mass,” at Weill contributions from the producers Nosaj Thing
under the influence of a ninety-minute techno Recital Hall.) During the pandemic, Koh and MonoNeon, matches intimate lyrics with
set selected by the d.j. Peter Rehberg. Each of came up with a commissioning program, quaking club beats that explode her sound
the dancers performs a character with a back- “Alone Together,” to support composers into silvery futurism. The dizzying trap an-
story. Their silent interactions span laughter and play their pieces for streaming audi- them “OMG BRITT” is the record’s rattling,
and tears, tussles and trysts. Throughout, ences; when she collected the new works radiant center. On its joyride of a hook, Parks
Vienne, a French choreographer drawn to into an album, she won a Grammy. Now boasts of a track so sick, “They gon’ quaran-
extremes, plays with time—freezing, fast-for- Tines and Koh perform an original seven- tine when they hear this shit!”—Jenn Pelly
warding, slowing down, and looping the action ty-minute show, “Everything Rises,” which (Elsewhere; Oct. 12.)
to mimic the perceptual experience of a night theatricalizes their reflections on navigating

1
out clubbing.—Brian Seibert (BAM Howard a predominantly white industry.—Oussama
Gilman Opera House; Oct. 13-15.) Zahr (BAM Fisher; Oct. 12-15.) Unique 3: “33/45”
HOUSE Hailing from the city of Bradford,
in West Yorkshire, Unique 3 were one of
Frank Carlberg Large Ensemble: the first British house groups; file them
MUSIC “Monk Dreams, Hallucinations under “bleep and bass,” a coinage that belies
the commonplace notion that dance-music
and Nightmares” genre names are obfuscations rather than
“Everything Rises”
ILLUSTRATION BY NICK LITTLE

CLASSICALThe bass-baritone Davóne Tines
and the violinist Jennifer Koh are artists of
color who are accustomed to making op-
portunities for themselves. Tines curates
conceptual concerts that incorporate his
experiences as a Black performer. (Next
month, he traces expressions of faith across
Baroque, Black, and contemporary music
JAZZ Thelonious Monk’s music must have
seemed so inherently strange when it was
unleashed on the world, in 1947, that it granted
permission for any ambitious artist to mess
with it further. The composer, arranger, and
conductor Frank Carlberg did just that with
his big-band project “Monk Dreams, Hallu-
cinations and Nightmares,” from 2019, which
weaves hints of classic Monk tunes within
barefaced descriptions. Unique 3’s early
recordings still entrance, with Morse-code
bleeps and amiably plodding bass lines. This
retrospective of the group’s entire output,
recorded between 1988 and 2007, shows how
adroitly the artists adapted to the ever-
changing, bass-oriented club sounds that
they had helped set in motion.—Michaelan-
gelo Matos (Streaming on select platforms.)

8 THE NEW YORKER, OCTOBER 17, 2022