A Dip in the Lake (1978)

A large composition consisting of hundreds of recordings from a city, assembled together according to chance operations. A complete realization, recorded in various places in Chicago, is available for free on ubuweb: http://www.ubu.com/sound/cage_dip.html - 2 hours 20 minutes, so that's basically a double album of free Cage.

The city setting reminds me of a somewhat Cagean story. A few years ago, when I was out in a local city, I could hear what I thought was some sort of avant-garde noise/industrial band busking on a street nearby. I thought it sounded pretty good, but was surprised that a band like that would bother busking, as surely most people would hate it. Anyway, when I turned the corner, I saw that it wasn't a band at all, but construction workers doing some roadworks.

Anyway, unsurprisingly, we mostly hear some of the standard sounds of the city: a lot of traffic noise; snatches of music from car radios; trains chugging along; people talking; birds tweeting; construction work - etc etc. There are however a few surprises. There's the sound of what seemed like people playing golf at one point. In part 3 (Waltes 32-61), there's an odd buzzing noise, which is somewhat reminiscent of crickets chirping. One of my favourite noises occurs in part 4 (Marches 1-28): a beautiful, ethereal, high-pitched drone; it has a "glassy" timbre and seems to seep in from the distance. I have no idea what it is, but it's absolutely lovely. Occasionally some of the recordings are played backwards.

There's a lot of repetition. We might have, say, a two second clip of traffic noise, which is then repeated several times over a short space of time. It gives the impression of a record stuck on a loop (or several records stuck on a loop, since there's often more than one recording played at once), and creates an almost hypnotic rhythm. Similarly, many of the recordings start and stop, start and stop, start and stop.

So there's a fairly wide variety of sounds - mostly standard city sounds, but a few strange ones and a few more "organic" ones (birds and water), all intercut with each other in an often hypnotic way to build a rich soundscape.  It's all recognizably Earthly - but just with something slightly off. And actually, after listening to nearly 2 and half hours of this, even the more normal sounds become disconnected from their usual sources. I stop hearing the traffic drone as traffic and hear it instead hear it as just one interesting noise among many. All of these sounds are in their usual context - city sounds among city sounds - but the context is completely scrambled, so we hear even the most apparently mundane sounds in a new light.

Overall it evokes compositions like Rozart Mix, Variations IV, etc, but it's much calmer. Most of the sounds here are quiet and/or droney - traffic noise, wind, and so on - and there are long stretches of near-silence. A fairly easy listen, then, despite the mammoth length.

Two (1987)

This is a special one: it's the very first Number Piece! And with that in mind, it's... well, fairly inconsequential. 10 minutes long, for piano and flute. Actually, it might as well be One for piano, because at least on my recording, you can barely hear the flute - even when turning the volume up to the point that the piano becomes slightly uncomfortably loud (and this semms to be faithful to Cage's instructions, as he specified that the flute was to be played very quietly). It's a very quite wheeze in the distance, maybe like a soft wind. You might not even realize that it's playing until it stops.

The piano is surprisingly melodic, and unsurprisingly played slowly and softly. It brings to mind some of Cage's Satie-influened work. There's no indication here of the extreme, sustained dissonance that would become characteristic of later Number Pieces. It does however have the same mood of tranquility and stillness.

Nice enough I suppose, though it seems a bit like two instruments playing different pieces. Imagine the piano playing some Satie at a snail's pace tempo, with the flute playing some sort of extreme, minimal ambient.

Fifty-Eight (1992)

I mentioned in the last review that one of the problems with listening to Cage's music is that he often put a lot of emphasis on space - where the audience sits, where the performers are situated, the kind of place it's performed, etc - which, obviously, cannot be preserved in a recording. In few Cage compositions is the problem as acute as it is here, as this was designed for one specific courtyard! (The courtyard had fifty-eight arches; hence fifty-eight players: one for each arch.) Perhaps this explains why this is oddly neglected as far as Number Pieces go - my recording by Pannonisches Blasorchester is the only one that I'm aware of. Which is a pity, because this is a really wonderful piece of music. One of Cage's best, in my opinion.

Also, this particular recording is perhaps not ideal. There is a lot of audience noise. Mostly coughing, a few people shuffling around, and at one point I even heard what sounded like a baby crying out. That last one was probably just one of the instruments. But the audience certainly make themselves known. I suppose it's not very Cagean to complain about that. And I'm not really complaining; I wouldn't say it detracts from the music at all, but it would be interesting to hear a "pure" recording.

To be fair, the courtyard it was written for - Landhaushof in Graz - is, just going by the images on Google, very open and even appears to be right next to a road. It's to be expected, then, that a good deal of ambient sound will intrude into the piece. Indeed, it could be argued that this recording doesn't really go far enough on that end. Maybe during a normal performance of this, you could expect to hear a lot of people talking, and even cars driving by. Again, it would be interesting to hear that kind of recording, too.

Like most Number Pieces, it consists mostly of slow, long-held notes with a few short notes. However, it differs from most Number Pieces in that the dynamics are about the same for both long and short notes. So, don't be worried about drifting off to sleep to this one! (It's 45 minutes long, so falling asleep is a possibility.) You won't be jolted awake by a sudden, loud honk on a saxophone. Instead, this is pretty much ambient; and the music generally has a fairly soft timbre, being composed only for wind instruments. It drones away slowly and softly - gradually getting louder and quieter, as though it's breathing.

With so many instruments, it's often difficult to distinguish one from another, creating fuzzy mass of sound from which various specific sounds are brushed in and out. Overall it brings to mind rolling clouds, maybe a gathering storm. There are plenty of lovely low, deep notes. And it is, of course, unrelenting dissonant.  The stormy mood is emphasized somewhat about half-way through this recording, where people start shuffling about so much that they make a sound like rain pattering down (I'm not sure exactly how that sound arises - from clothes crinkling perhaps?). A fantastic piece!