online: 20 august 2012 modified: 18, 19, 20 august 2012 17 august 2012 listening to the music of John Cage
centenary concert at the Albert Hall, London
....just happened to switch on the radio and recognised this as ego-less emotion-free music... either of John Cage or else of a follower... (though i think his followers almost never compose by pure chance... without intentions of message or meaning... or of inducing some emotion in the listener)...
...i drop everything to listen...
...this early music of John Cage (if that is what it is) seems a bit crude to me now... too close to separated sounds... not overlapping in time... and separated by non-rhythmic silences... and now some of the sounds (while i write) seem too vibratory or too mechanical for comfort...
...at this point i listened (for an hour or so) without writing notes until the last-but-one piece:
...improvised music by Christian Wolff... and fellow improvisers who know each other well... nothing is specified but the duration... (afterwards i learn that a few other features of the sound are specified... leaving the performers to decide everything else)
...the improvisation begins with a long pause... then one note... and .... and... sustained fluctuating notes... and now some rapid repetitious runs... on one or three or four instruments... and now a chord by itself... (uninfluenced by what came before it... or after... as are random numbers in a series)...
...but i can't keep up with it... there are more musical events than i can write... then some sounds of people talking very quietly... percussions... fluctuating whistles ... and even a mini-climax...
...now a water sound on its own... changing to a hurried fluttery sound... and tremulos and various sounds together (not one-by-one)...
...and what do i feel during all this... no conscious emotion... just the relief of being made aware of the moment... and of time as existence... no less... with no 'ought'... or 'you can'... or 'you must think of it this way'...
...i stop writing to rub my scalp... and am aware of hair-rubbing sound that is amplified by a hearing aid (or 'hearing instrument' as the manufacturers now call it)...
...and now a strange mix of indescribable sound... and the surprise that it's beginning to get slightly expressive yet is still non-egoic... or 'free of likes and dislikes' (as John Cage used to describe it)...
...and still the improvisation goes on... now it's acquired a well-established sound-character... as it continues... perhaps resembling all the musics of modernity... or of everyday machine sounds that everyone is used to... even in a concert hall...
this concert is one of several John Cage musics that i've written about while it happens...
...now a determined bowing-sound... and quiet tapping... (as if on a little metal box)... and now sounds that are escalating... or wailing... now a bang... and wobble wobble... now y-e-e-e-lp... and long organ-like note... (and did i hear quiet voices saying something?)...
[and i remember that this is serious... even religious... yet is not spoilt by any noise or interruption]...
and now i remember to save what i've written so far...
...now a long whistled single note... that turns into frail breath-like whistles of lower pitch.... and now the gentle applause... that follows these thought-provoking pieces
branches
(music of cacti and other plants used as musical instruments... perhaps with amplification?)
....we are told that tree branches and cactuses are 'all over the hall' (each?) played solo by someone...
...knock knock... with irregular pauses
...and a whooob sound....
(this is tiring to keep up with...i stop again and just listen)...
...and as i recline... and look about me... my attention shifts from the writing to... to looking through doorways... from bedroom through hallway into kitchen... and out through a window to tree branches outside...
...these things are now freed (by the non-purposeful music) of their customary names... because the sounds of this music free one from habit... having no message... and thus enabling one to see the world (or nearby bits of it) as pure sculpture...
...now i am delighted to find that i'm recovering that way of seeing things as abstract shapes and colours without imposed meanings to do with people not nature... pure and all-inclusive (the now lost joy of modernism?)...
...all this time the plant sounds (all a bit clattery) go on and on... perpetually unpredictable.... that's the joy of it... no, not joy, but liberation... from imposed tempo and meaning...
...given this music the whole of life becomes visible-as-dance...
...and now i close my eyes...
...and the vegetation music ends with a long bluey note like a bumble bee...
19 august 2012
...having slowly corrected numerous miss-spellings... and altered the spacing of these remarks (to recover what i recall of this unexpected listening) i sit back and just listen to whatever sounds i can hear in this room that is insulated by double glass from the outside... i see cars beyond trees moving soundlessly... and i hear the rattle of the keyboard... and a squeak from my hearing instrument... and now i hear nothing else as my thoughts wander off to the piles of paperwork that i intended to clear up... but i could not when these notes of attending to John Cage's music were not yet completed... but now they nearly are!
...and as the the heat of the day is now over i open the windows and hear cars moving quietly and the voice of a child... and that's it!
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