The Hebrides Ensemble specialise in 20th-century (as opposed to broadly "contemporary") chamber music, with a forthcoming season that contains a couple heavyweights of the repertoire: Messiaen's Quartet for the End of Time, Schoenberg's expressionist melodrama Pierrot Lunaire. This season opener was more of a bits-and-pieces lineup of American pioneers that included music by Ives, Adams, Reich and, bizarrely, Jennifer Higdon.
But it was the unique and vivid sound world of George Crumb that made the real impression. Voice of the Whale (Vox Balaenae) is a surprisingly literal work from 1971 literal in that it mimics whale song via humming down a flute, cello harmonics and strummed piano strings, and the effect was surprisingly accurate. Crumb instructs that the stage be lit dark blue like an ocean, and that the musicians wear masks to depersonalise the proceedings (natural forces are, he says, impersonal). I'm not sure how much the theatrical gimmicks added, but the music, and the sense of otherworldly reverie that went with it, was captivating and beautifully done.