LANDFALL LAURIE ANDERSON & KRONOS QUARTET
COMPOSED BY LAURIE ANDERSON FOR KRONOS QUARTET
Laurie Anderson: violin, vocals, keyboards, samples, percussion, filters Kronos Quartet: David Harrington, violin John Sherba, violin Hank Dutt, viola Sunny Yang, cello
1. CNN Predicts a Monster Storm (3:19) 2. Wind Whistles Through the Dark City (1:59) 3. The Water Rises (2:43) 4. Our Street Is a Black River (1:20) 5. Galaxies (1:07) 6. Darkness Falls (1:56) 7. Dreams (4:01) 8. Dreams Translated (:51) 9. The Dark Side (1:11) 10. Built You a Mountain (2:16) 11. The Electricity Goes Out and We Move to a Hotel (3:04) 12. We Learn to Speak Yet Another Language (3:01) 13. Dawn of the World (2:22) 14. The Wind Lifted the Boats and Left Them on the Highway (2:40) 15. It Twisted the Street Signs (1:13) 16. Then It Receded (:52) 17. The Nineteen Stars of Heaven (2:44) 18. Nothing Left but Their Names (9:38) 19. All the Extinct Animals (2:50) 20. Galaxies II (:54) 21. Never What You Think It Will Be (1:11) 22. Thunder Continues in the Aftermath (1:55) 23. We Blame Each Other for Losing the Way (:42) 24. Another Long Evening (1:57) 25. Riding Bicycles Through the Muddy Streets (2:37) 26. Helicopters Hang over Downtown (2:16) 27. We Head Out (1:50) 28. Everything Is Floating (1:59) 29. Gongs and Bells Sing (2:33) 30. Old Motors and Helicopters (2:49)
LAURIE ANDERSON AND KRONOS QUARTET: LANDFALL
stories and then sharing them in ways that make them as much ours as
STEVE SMITH
hers, Anderson has never been especially literal-minded or unambiguously newsy. United States I --IV was not explicitly about
And after the stor m I went down to the basement And everyth ing was floating
American life, but it certainly was the product of a life lived in America. The End of the Moon was not explicitly about space travel, but it illuminated aspects of contemporary life during a time when NASA, the bleeding-edge science it symbolizes, and our civic faith in that science
A melancholy sensation hits you immediately in Landfall , the haunting,
held sway.
frequently witty, consistently inventive evening-length perfor mance piece that Laurie Anderson conceived for, and created with, the Kronos
Landfall , then, is not explicitly about a hometown hit by a devastating
Quartet in 2013. At the start, paired violins twist just out of sync. Low
storm, but it deals with the way we process the kind of loss t hat might
strings join, providing an earthy drone, an erratic pulse. The violins
be caused by a storm — an event beyond our capacity to predict or
coil and keen like strands in a raga. Something is coming. You might
control, and one that makes a full recovery untenable. It also is about
imagine leaves swirling slowly, while overhead the sky darkens.
the way we use language to fix ideas in our heads, and to make our
Perhaps instead you’ll see newspaper pages fluttering across a city
memories durable.
sidewalk. The notion of a collaboration between these two mighty forces in The piece that opens Landfall is titled “CNN Predicts a Monster Storm.”
contemporary art seems so natural, given their mutual regard and
The storm in question is Superstorm Sandy, which moved up the
common cultural circuits, that a longtime follower might marvel that it
Eastern Seaboard late in 2012, and surged into New York City on
hadn’t happened before. (At least, this longtime follower did, in a
October 29. Now assessed as the third costliest storm in U.S. history
review of Landfall published by The New York Times.) That Anderson,
(after the earlier Katrina and the subsequent Harvey), Sandy
one of our most original, idiosyncratic observers and creators, and
submerged streets, subway lines, businesses, and homes, causing
Kronos, for decades a formidable force in expanding the quartet
damage from which New York would still be recovering five years later.
repertoire while spurning its strictures, had not connected previously hardly seems tenable.
You might hear that loo ming menace , that gloomy app rehens ion, in the beginning of Landfall . It’s there, surely. But it’s not at all what
Anderson, in a recent conversation, recounted how she and Kronos
Anderson had in mind when Kronos asked her — after decades of
finally came together. “They said, let’s work together — would you
mutual respect and traveling in the same cultural circles — to write a
write something for us?” she said matter-of-factly. “And I was
substantial piece for the group.
horrified,” she continued in mock protest. “I don’t have the slightest idea how to write something for a string quartet. I love your work, but I
For one thing, despite her keen eye for detail, her knack for turning phrases that contain manifold logics, and her capacity for collecting
have to say no.”
David Harrington, the Kronos Quartet founder and artistic director,
notes played by the Kronos instrumentalists triggered words of text
would have none of it. He proposed that Anderson write something for
that would be projected on a screen overhead.
Kronos when they first met in person, as long ago as 1989. He persisted in the pursuit, and around seven years ago the stars finally
The process of crafting what would become Landfall was well
aligned. A catalytic moment came when Anderson released “Flow,” a
underway when Sandy hit New York. Anderson, who was out of town
poignant instrumental vignette included on Homeland , issued by
as the storm approached, rushed home to weather the tumult
Nonesuch in 2010.
alongside her husband, Lou Reed, in their downtown apartment. Forced to flee to shelter, Anderson returned two days later to survey
“As soon as I heard that, I called her up and said, ‘Laurie, you just wrote
the considerable damage.
a Kronos piece. That’s our piece that we’ve been talking about for years,’” Harrington said. With Anderson’s permission, he had a version
lots of old analog keyboards
of “Flow” fashioned for Kronos by Jacob Garchik, a versatile
project ors
composer and trombonist who has created numerous arrangements
props from old show s
for the quartet in recent years.
a big fiberglass plane a crutch
“We began to play ‘Flow’ around, and have played it many, many times,”
a Christmas tree stand
Harrington recalled. “Eventually, we rehearsed with Laurie at the
countless papers
University of Maryland, in College Park, and that’s where she first
photogr aphs of our dog
heard our version. And slowly, Landfall began to take shape.” Not surprisingly, the creative process that produced the new work
Anderson and Kronos unveiled their new venture at the University of
departed from any conventional compositional paradigm. “I think of
Maryland’s Clarice Smith Performing Arts Center on February 1, 2013,
Laurie as an amazing collector — she collected all of these sonic pieces
just months after Sandy pummeled New York City, and clearly too soon
of information about Kronos,” Harrington said of a months-long
to have envisioned — to say nothing of creat ed — a full-length response.
process in which Anderson recorded the quartet improvising in her
At its premiere, the piece was called Scenes from My New Novel .
studio. “She also came to many of our concerts over a long period of time. I felt like she knew a lot about a large variety of our music.”
Still, the storm was present. Watching in the theater, you may or may not have felt it looming, but you couldn’t miss sensations of absence
Speaking to the London newspaper The Guardian in 2013, Anderson
and attempted recovery pervasive throughout what was, for Anderson,
offered one more detail crucial to her conception: “[Kronos] said at the
a deliberately spare visual production. In recounting struggles with
beginning, ‘We want to tell stories.’ I said, ‘Why don’t I make something
loss in myriad forms — animals gone extinct, dreams recounted with
so that you can tell them with your instruments?’” What resulted was
effort, even a karaoke session disrupted by a power failure – Landfall
erst (electronic representation of spoken text), a program Anderson
quietly yet insistently evokes notions of things lost and gone.
developed with software designer Liubo Borissov, through which
Onscreen as well, words lost letters; symbols filled the gaps,
suggesting a perhaps futile attempt to restore order.
how magic and how catastrophic.
After the show’s creation, in recognition of the role Sandy played in its
Near the end of Landfall , Anderson assesses the losses she incurred
development, Anderson gave the various movements of Landfall titles
during Sandy, offering a tally that concludes the piece and also opens
that describe the storm’s progress and its aftermath in straightforward
the book she is releasing concurrently, All the Things I Lost in the
sequence: from “CNN Predicts a Monster Storm” and “Wind Whistles
Flood: Essays on Pictures, Language and Code (Rizzoli, 2018). “I
Through the Dark City” through “Our Street Is a Black River,” “Darkness
looked at the thick binder with the lists of things that had been lost in
Falls,” and “The Electricity Goes Out and We Move to a Hotel,”
the flood,” she wrote in the book’s introduction. “I realized that since
culminating in “We Blame Each Other for Losing the Way,” “Riding
they were no longer objects, they had an entirely different meaning and
Bicycles Through the Muddy Streets,” and “Everything Is Floating.”
that having these long lists was just as good as having the real things. Maybe even better.”
“Putting this narrative in the titles, it was really fun to do that,” Anderson said. “We learned to speak yet another language.” In a
What might have been a lament thus is transformed through
similar act of superimposition — a heightening of reality, even
examination, time, and contemplation into a kind of benediction. “My
— Landfall on record benefits from some of the most meticulous and
first reaction was absolute devastation — I’d been saving that stuff
detailed production Kronos has ever issued on disc. “Scott Fraser took
forever,” Anderson said. “A couple days later, I thoug ht: now I don’t
a year — a whole year — to mix this album,” Harrington said. “We’ve
have to clean out the basement. And then finally I realized that the list
worked with him for 28 years now, and the sound that he got from us,
of things was in a way more precious to me than the stuff, because it
the depth of sound and variety of sound — I’ve never heard anything
evoked that stuff. I didn’t have to look at the stuff anymore, or deal
like it. It really became his life’s work. And there’s something about
with it; I could have this very magical representation of it. And from
Laurie that attracts that kind of involvement.”
there, it began t o be about so many thing s — basically, the world is made up of stories.”
What you hear on this recording, then, is a heightened, sharpened, more evocative idealization of the concert piece: less straightforward documentation, more an original work of art to be assessed and
Steve Smith is director of publications for National Sawdust, a performing-
admired on its own considerable merits. Along with Nuevo (Nonesuch,
arts incubator and concert space in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. He previously
2002), Landfall is among the watershed achievements of the Kronos
wrote about music as a freelance correspondent for The New York Times ,
Quartet as a recording entity.
and served as an editor for the Boston Globe and Time Out New York .
And I looked at them float ing there all the things I had carefully saved all my life And I thought how beau tiful
MAKING LANDFALL LAURIE ANDERSON
You hear the horsehai r grindin g and sliding ove r the metal stri ng. You hear overtones and harmonics. In close-up violin you hear the creaking and swaying of the instrument. Puffs of rosin fill your nose. It’s
When David Harrington invited me to write something for the Kronos
visceral. By the time this sound travels to the audience it has thinned
Quartet I panicked. I have no chops for orchestration or part writing.
out and become the classic sound of the violin – pure, ringing, and full
I’m a studio composer and shape music with electronics. I sit there
of vibrato. My dream has always been to bring the sounds of the close-
playing and shifting parts endlessly back and forth until they sound
up violin up off the noise floor and into the music itself, to make music
good. The few times I tried orchestration had been disastrous. The
that was full of the sounds of its own making, so I have spent many
bassoons were playing what the cellos should have played, everyone
years designing filters that do this and also filters that split the pitch
was in the wrong register. It was chaos. Orchestration is an art form I
into all sorts of intervals. It was these intervals that were the basis of
knew I would never master.
the four parts.
When I told David I had no idea how to do this he wasn’t fazed. In fact
I made hundreds of loops of all these sounds. My method in the
he was very encouraging. The first thing I did was listen to all of
workshops was asking the quartet to play these loops acoustically,
Kronos’ recordings. Obviously this took quite a while and it was a
breaking their elements into four parts. Sometimes I asked them to
luxurious step. Their range in style and subject was staggering. They
improvise on top of them. Then I would go back to the studio and
could seemingly imagine anything, and then play it.
incorporate these ideas.
I wrote Landfall in pieces. Over a period of about a year we did several
The other element in Landfall was stories. Early in the process David
workshops. During these days we talked about the kinds of sounds we
had said he wanted the quartet to tell stories. I thought, How odd t hat
wanted to make and we did a lot of experiments. For the workshops I
these incredible musicians would want to talk while they played. So I
prepared rhythmic and atmospheric loops made of violin phrases,
said, “How about if I make something so you can tell stories with your
sound effects, and passages I constructed with the Optigan, an
instruments?” “Great!” said David. I realized right away I had no idea
electronic keyboard which was essentially a toy made by Mattel in the
how to do this. So I worked with the sound designer and inventor Liubo
early ’70s. Sounds were printed in loops on optical discs that could be
Borissov and designed a system so that instruments could trigger
played at many speeds. Optigan guru Pea Hicks had loaned me one of
projected language. This system was also an elaborate code that
the instruments and I had been playing it constantly, mostly backward.
became a graphic element in the show. We called this system erst –
Its melancholy, gritty sounds were exactly what I was looking for.
electronic representation of spoken text.
The other sound I wanted to use in this work was what I call close-up
I usually use images in my work but because this piece was about
violin. When your head is right next to the instrument, like it is when
stories I wanted all the images to be words or parts of words. The
you play the violin, you hear a very different sound than the one you’re
triggering element of erst worked best when the source was sudden
playing for other people.
and sporadic so it was used in an improvised solo by John Sherba.
As the workshops went on I wrote lots of texts and they were bound to
Landfall and the first in All the Things I Lost in th e Flood , which begins,
the music in new ways. Usually I store text ideas in a huge
“Language is about loss and in a way words are memorials to things
metaphorical story bin and once in a while stir them around to see how
and to states. The word ‘yellow’ is a memorial to the color yellow.”
they can make bigger patterns, pictures, and plots. Eventually some of
Words as elegies are at the core of Landfall expressed most clearly in
these stories ended up spoken and some projected. I made this
the long scrolling list of the names of extinct animals.
decision based on the fact that we have very different reactions to text that we see with our eyes and words that we hear with our ears. So I
In many ways losing things has been one of my primary subjects, and
also built in several discrepancies and repetitions between spoken and
so the hurricane gave the work a last-minute centrifugal structure.
written, although I think you would have to see the piece several times
Landfall is about language and loss. But music for me has also always
to be aware of this.
been the ultimate art form of loss. Immaterial and ecstatic.
Like the Optigan I saw erst as a kind of notation. Landfall was the
My husband, Lou, listened to Landfall countless times as I was writing
beginning of this system; eventually I used spoken language instead of
it and, as always, had a lot of ideas. He also helped shape the overall
music to trigger projected language, which created complex
sound and balance between my electronic rig and the quartet in our
multitasking on the part of the audience. Erst was also the jumping-off
last rehearsals. As with all my work since I met him in 1991, this record
place for the book I wrote, All the Things I Lost in th e Flood , a series of
is dedicated to my partner, the fierce and tender Lou Reed, who never
essays about how language and stories work with imagery in my work
once gave up.
in film, painting, animation, sculpture, and virtual reality. In fact this book is a kind of cousin of Landfall in its focus and grounding in codes and how they work. The workshops drew to a close. I never stopped being struck by the quartet’s willingness to play dreamy drones full of subtle shifts with their full attention and playfulness too. I began to see my role as a kind of fifth wheel, the one on the side with the stories and electronics. This balance and role began to suit me just fine. As it turned out I got an enormous amount of help in part-writing from their colleague the composer Jacob Garchik. Jacob has a real feel for Kronos and was not only figuring out parts for the quartet but t ailoring them to the strengths of each player. Just as I was finishing Landfall Hurricane Sandy swept through New York and decimated muc h of my archive. Thi s is the last story in
LANDFALL
might want to see sometime and not somethi ng that’s happening only in
TEXT BY LAURIE ANDERSON
the back of their own head.
Boldface: spoken text
A while ago I was in Germany and I walked into a huge recording studio
Italics: projected text
and in the middle of the studio was a man wearing no cloth es playing the flute and covered with flies. And there were enorm ous mics all over the
3. THE WATER RISES
room and when I got closer I saw that the flies were actua lly tiny
the water rises/ and overflows / the city drowns/ the full moon/ a freak spring tide
microphones attached all ov er his body and these mics picked up every
And in our new /town/our new country /where we have/begun to live /falling /
little sound so the engineers kep t saying, “Um……we can hear your shirt
and rising tides/Where women have just earned /the right/t o combat /And the
rustling…can you ta ke it off?” A few minutes later, “Your pants are reall y
rest of us/are /fully /armed/Which war /is this/?/Wh at time/is /it/?/
loud, they’ll have to go too—and the shoes are deafening.” So he was standing there shivering and playing. There were mics inside the flute
4. OUR STREET IS A BLACK RIVER
too that recorded the breat h as it blew through the tube and turned in to
October 2012. The river had been rising all day and the hurricane was
notes.
coming up slowly from the south. We watched as the sparkling black river came up over the banks, crossed the park and then the highway and
And in the mix the sounds from all the micropho nes combined into a
then came silently up our street. From above, Sandy was a huge swirl that
huge symphony. And when you put headphones on the sound was really
looked like the galaxies whose names I didn’t know.
so spatial. The breath rushes in to one ear and curves around the top of your skull in chords and harmonics then turns around and around and
5. GALAXIES
blows out the other ear. So being in your head was like being in a huge
Milky Way Galaxy/Andromeda/Bode’s Galaxy/Cartwheel Galaxy/Cigar
drafty barn with the wind blowing th rough. No it wasn’t like being in a
Galaxy/Comet Galaxy/Hoag’s Object/Large Magellanic Cloud/Small
head filled with brains and blood and teeth but something completely
Magellanic Cloud/Mayall’s Object/Pinwheel Galaxy/Sombrero Galaxy/
light and empty and full of wind and music.
Sunflower Galaxy/Tadpole Galaxy/Whirlpool Galaxy 9. THE DARK SIDE 7. DREAMS
And on the dark side of me/all the places I hid/they came together / and the
Don’t you hate it when people tell you their dreams? You know they say
ways that I pretended / where is all the brilliant philosophy?/I had promised my
things like, “I had this dream and there was thi s man and he was my
heart so many things I had never delivered/it lived inside me now/suspicious /
father. Oh no wait he was my uncl e! No wait he was my fath er. Wait I’m
and small /clouds so high/they have no shadows/and I said well...um/ strange
not sure.” And you say, “Please don’t tell me your dream!”
that their voices /were rising like that/ didn’t you know that angels’ /speaking voices are singing?/ the pope recently wrote a treatise /that said that /And on
But they go on anyway, “Yes I think he was my fath er and he had this
the dark side of me/all the places I hid/they came together and the ways that I
bloody severed head.” They’re te lling you the dream like it’s a movie you
pretended /I hated who I was/ I hated who I had become/ The ways I thought I
was so clever seemed like nothing and I was left standing there/ smiling like
changed. How can that be? If memory is always changing things that’s not the
an idiot…where is all the brilliant philosophy?/where was this heart of mine?/
way memory works as far as I can see the—It got vaguer and vaguer and
The soft sounds/of the voice inside my head/ talking to me/like a crowd /about
turned into a mumbling outside the range of our microphones. The sound s
to mutiny /because there’s no water/and the sun is too hot here in the
that were gone dull frequencies where was all the brilliant philosophy? where
amphitheater/and water has surrounded/the world nothing between this
was this heart of mine?
building where people are getting shot with regularity/ I had promi sed my heart so many things/ Tomorrow I said/ tomorrow I will get you that/ It didn’t bel ieve
17. THE NINETEEN STARS OF HEAVEN
me/ Didn’t like the song/ but was so exhausted it fell asleep anyway
And when you say lie do you mean the kind of lie that Lincoln told when he was talking to the soldiers who were leaving for the front? About
10. BUILT YOU A MOUNTAIN
how they’d be just fine and would be home by spring walking and
Dear small person/you have exhausted me./I am always on the brink of tears.
alive? Or do you mean some other kind of lie? The nineteen stars of
/I have tried in many ways/to help you/ Built you a mountain / and still /I stare at /
heaven matched by what they stood for: constancy gullibility and
your destructive force /in awe.
sorrow
12. WE LEARN TO SPEAK YET ANOTHER LANGUAGE
18. NOTHING LEFT BUT THEIR NAMES
I was in a Dutch karaoke bar trying to sing a song in Korean and I was
You know, recently I got a book listing all the animal species that have
just getting the hang of things when the software crashed and the video
disappeared off the face of the earth called All the Disappeared Animal
background of sand dunes got all glit chy from the bad connection via
Life Forms of the World .
the Indonesian version of Netfl ix for no reason. Then for no reason it would all come back up again.
The list is really impressive and it included the dates and territories where the animals were last sighted. Or wher ever the last fossil was
13. DAWN OF THE WORLD
unearthed.
And as for the dawn of the end of the world the world ended every time I looked around it would be over again and again and the new looking like a
Now as you probably know 99.9 per cent of the species who have ever
complete imposter so easy to see through wearing the clothes of the old world
lived are now extinct. So this is a very long list i ncluding massive
but standing there such a transparent gamble Looking foolish in grin ning
numbers of civets, big subsets of spotted lizards, every last mastodon,
inappropriately all the time and it was torn with the screaming you could only
the short-faced bear, the Shrub-ox , fifteen chapters on sloths. And one
hear in the supersonic ranges there were sounds in that range The cries of
whole chapter on the one-eared dinosaur.
those who were born and those who were trying to be born The other sounds like some kind of scraping of furniture across the wooden floor the feeling of
It was amazing, you cannot imagine how many kinds of wease ls have
being an imposter in those things you thought were gone. That feeling of being
come and gone. The publishers claim th at the book is a definitive
alone and friendless and all the stupid mistakes you made and idiotic things
masterpiece. In fact, according to them, the book actually weighs
you said in the deepest sorrow and those things did not seem to have
approximately thirty weasels. And so goodbye to the disappeared ones.
There they go, hopping and jumpin g away, swimming and floating away.
here at all.
Gone forever. Vaporized as if they’d never existed except for a few bones and footprints. Nothing much left but their names.
28. EVERYTHING IS FL OATING And after the storm I went down to the basement
You know the first letter in the Hebrew alphabet is alef. And the letter alef
and everything was floating
actually has no sound. It’s a letter with no sound, a mental let ter. So to
Lots of my old keyboards, thirty projectors,
say alef you open your mouth and think of the lett er and you start to say
props from old performances,
it and then you stop.
a fiberglass plane motorcycle, countless papers and books,
And that is alef. And I looked at them floating there in the shi ny dark water, dissolving. That’s the thing with words… they leave so much to the imagination.
All the things I had carefully saved all my life bec oming nothing but junk.
Like in yoga class when the teacher says things lik e, “Imagine your
And I thought how beautiful how magic and how catast rophic.
breath is filling the entir e room.” Or, “Imagine that your legs are planted in the ground and they keep going down and down under t he ground like
clouds so high/they cast
roots like fifteen feet down” and you can actually feel your legs doing that.
no shadows/ The unbroken flow / of tears
And really they could just go on and on in this vein like, “Now imagi ne
The bright side
that you’ve swallowed your head and it’s inside your st omach and you’re
the dark side
upside down and you can’t open your eyes and you’r e completely stuck
/of the turning world/
there.” Things like that.
if only /I could /just / stop/thinking
I have to say that often it’s much better to talk about things than to actually
there was this man/
do them. Take for example—a very long expedition to the North Pole.
and there was this road/ and that man was /
You know the reason I really love the stars? It’s that we cannot hurt
my father /
them. We can’t burn them. We can’t melt them or make them overf low.
no /it was my uncle/ no /Blackout
We can’t flood them or blow them up or turn them out. But we are reaching for them. We are reaching for th em.
time slips / The bones of the/great animals/Melville’s moldy angels /surroun d / me.
And ah yes the moon and stars are up there like acquaint ances I had always meant to befriend Yes I meant to learn their names but for vari ous
the nineteen stars/ of heaven
reasons having to do with lack of time and lack of ambit ion I never did do
matched by what they meant
that. And they remained up in the sky as nameless as if we’d never been
Produced by Scott Fra ser, Laurie Anderson,
For Landfall live performances:
and Kronos Quartet
Liubo Borissov, erst programming Robert Currie, dramaturg
Recorded by Scott Fraser
Konrad Kaczmarek, electronics
on April 13–15, 2014,
and software design
at Studio Trilogy, San Francisco, CA
Shane Koss, audio rig design
Assist ant Engi neer: No ah Kille en
Brian H Scott, lighting designer
Edited and mixed by Scott Fraser
Scott Fraser, Brian Mohr, audio engineers
at Architecture, Los Angeles, CA
Pomegranate Arts, executive producers Linda Brumbach and Alisa Regas
Mastered by Robert C. Ludwig at Gateway
pomegranatearts.com
Mastering Studios, Portland, ME For the Kronos Quartet/Kronos Per forming Arts Music and text by Laurie Anderson
Associ ation : Janet Cowp erthwa ite, Mana ging
Transcriptions by Jacob Garchik
Director; with Sidney Chen, Mason Dille, Sarah
Arran gement s by Laurie Ande rson, Kr onos
Donahue, Lauren Frankel, Scott Fraser, Sasha
Quartet, and Jacob Garchik
Hnatkovich, Reshena Liao, Nikolás McConnieSaad, Brian Mohr, Kären Nagy, Brian H. Scott ,
Design by Barbara de Wilde
and Lucinda Toy
Art by Laur ie Anderso n Photography by Mark Allan (Barbican)
Landfall was commissioned by Adelaide Festival,
and Jason Stern
Australia; Barbican, London; Clarice Smith Performing Arts Center, University of Maryland,
Executive Producer: David Bither
College Park; Peak Performances @ Montclair State (NJ); Perth International Arts Festival, Australia; Stanford Live, Stanford University; and Texas Performing Arts at The University of Texas at Austin. Additional project support was provided to the Kronos Per forming Arts Association by the National Endowment for the Arts.
laurieanderson.com
kronosquartet.org
nonesuch.com
Nonesuch Records Inc., a Warner Music Group Company, 1633 Broadway, New York, NY 10019. & 2018 Nonesuch Records Inc. for the United States and WEA International Inc. for the world outside of the United States. Warning: Unauthorized reproduction of this recording is prohibited by Federal law and subject to criminal prosecution.
