chance and not-chance
Recently it has felt (although this isn't a recent manifestation) that I spend too little time cultivating interest in a genre before I flit off to a new genre to be obsessed over. From DIY to Disco to Electro to Early Hip-Hop to Hardcore Punk to the Dead to 70's funk to Reggae to Psych to Prog to Techno to Krautrock to my most recent fixation, 20th century classical or in my case Minimalism specifically. I don't know if this is a problem per-say but it seems problematic or at least symptomatic of a problem in the general way I go about things. Like how it seemed that every week on the bus on the way to work I'd fall in love with a different girl. A girl who'd I'd never meet, but for the course of time that our bus (or bart or muni) trip coincided I'd be transfixed. This doesn't seem to happen much anymore but I suspect this is more a side-effect of having more typical commute hours. Maybe during typical commuter hours there aren't fewer beautiful women but definitely more mid-30 and up women; that is a density problem. Or maybe typical office hour wage slaves like me are just resistant to being fashionable/good-looking and are just too oppressed/bored to be otherwise (or maybe I am.) And this isn't even a proper analogy as I don't really expend any effort on the bus ride crushes, but I'm not gonna sacrifice truth for sake of logical elegance.
All that is a long-winded introduction to a couple of minimalist (and not minimalist) records I've picked up recently. primarily a Philip glass' first collection with Music in a Similar Motion & Music in fifths, Terry Riley's In C and a collection of John Cage piano works.
The early Glass is if anything to me oppressive. With the exuberance and cocksureness of youth both compositions are a simple idea repeated over and over w/ little or no concession to any pleasure derived by the listener, something that Glass can be accused of doing too much later in his career(conceding to the pleasure principle) . It's an idea about music executed in broad forthright form. Already by Northstar, his rock-star debut on Virgin, his composition is no longer as stringent and puritan, but again it is more experienced than enjoyed. More talked about than listened too. The defrost is even more in effect on his first opera Einstein on the Beach but more than makes up for any lack of minimalistic rigueur by it's more than obtuse "plot", settings, costuming and choreography (or at least what I can derive from the book that comes with the disk). Whatever, the chances of me seeing Einstein performed are slim. Not that I would avoid it, but that I'm not gonna pursue it. One culprit being the before mentioned reasons, but the tide always comes back in, no?
Terry Riley, who was in league with Philip Glass (I think he performed in some of Glass' ensembles or vice-versa) and the other early minimalist that I've heard Steve Reich, seems less systematically rigourous than Glass and to In C's benefit. Maybe it has to do with Riley being based in 60's San Francisco where he was known to give all-night solo harmonium concerts (I *would* go hear that if I had a chance) or his more firm rock bonafides (a collab w/ John Cale - which is very good from i've heard & you know BABA O'REILLY). Whatever, instead of feeling oppressive the minimalism of Riley feels organic and inviting. Within the simple compositional rules, handily explained on the inner sleeve of the record, there is a great opportunity for chance and unexpected occurrence with in a set of constricted rules. A variable envelope of tonal color opening up from a simple theme, ever shifting in unexpected directions or better said surprising directions. But even that is unfair description as it doesn't have the feeling of being unexpected as each part builds on the previous and themes are repeated on different instruments it feels like growth. The final state and character of a stalk of corn is hardly unexpected but none-the-less surprising. Maybe something to do with the sublime or the seemingly unspeakable/ ununderstandable.
But maybe I'm blowing smoke up yr ass w/ all this mumbo-jumbo talk. It's on the page, it's not inscrutable. But can't it be both? Truth & Fiction, Fantasy & the all-to-real? Don't ask me.
Cage, another Californian but not a minimalist, also through/threw the I-Ching realized some chance to open the doors of modern composition (an oriental conceit shared w/ Riley & Glass & Reich). And more, much much more, can be said about him and I had planned and ruminating on his connections to Merce Cunningham and Jasper Johns and Robert Rauschenberg but that'll have to wait for another time. Wouldn't want to out my (lack-of) art theory bonafides just yet. And frankly I have to get on to thinking about the next genre to pillage. No more of this art-music crap on to Rolling Stones bootlegs or Baile Funk or dubstep or peace-punk or music made by inmates or whaaaaaatttttttteeeeeevvvvvvvveeeeeerrrr.
posted by furtanic at 12:37 PM
2 Comments:
I would argue that Reich is actually the most rigorous of the three; even later works adhere to systematic compositional processes, even if they are a bit more inline with traditional harmonic progressions. but if you look at the tape-loop construction It's Gonna Rain, which is arguably the basis of all of his work, it's not about chance but programmed serendipity, and basically rhythmic. Riley is all about timbre, which is not really minimal at all with something like 4 violins. Glass to me seems minimal just by association and the unfortunate use of keyboards which only works behind something as psychologically explosive as Koyanisquatsi.
unfortunate use of keyboards? glass' best stuff is the stuff that relies heavily on the keyboards.
I don't see that much of a difference between In C and early glass material. In C is not really as free as it sounds; it's not just, "here's 51 phrases, run free." things like the C note played on each beat for the whole run by the same instrument(s) (I think it's violin, I forget) are there because riley planned out who would do what. while his score is free and leaves the conductor free to choose how things go, the actual performance as given by riley has much more planning than just writing the phrases and handing them out. (I'd be interested in hearing the acid mothers temple version.)
and so you compare that to something like music in 12 parts, which is composed from like '69 to '72 I think, and they seem sort of similar. glass' piece is just about the repeating of basic phrases in a hypnotic fashion. he just tells the musicians how he wants it to be on the score. (but, really, so does riley.) in fact, music in 12 parts is (possibly) better, because like 50 minutes of hypnotic winding music = WHATEVER, 5+ hours of hypnotic winding music = AWESOME.
you need to give glass more tries, everything up to the mishima soundtrack is awesome, pretty much. whereas there is so much boring shitty reich and cage. reley is a fucking hippy too. but I recently bought descending moon dervishes and really liked it.
I say stay with minimalism. check out john adams, charlemagne palestine, anthony moore, phil niblock, gavin bryars, michael nyman, wim mertens.
oh, and you have no chance with the gals on the mass-transit, because I don't think there's a way to start a conversation with someone mid-commute that doesn't make you sound like an ass. I suppose that craigslist's missed connections has to work for someone though. also I bet riley is some sweet neckin' soundtrack.
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