This was written specifically to be performed on television - it premiered on an Italian TV show, and then later was performed on the American show I've Got a Secret. There's a recording of the latter performance on youtube that's well worth checking out. As a recording of the composition, it's not great - it's fairly bad quality, and it isn't even a faithful performance since it should have involved radios, but Cage was unable to play these due to a union dispute. But as a piece of television, it's wonderfully bizarre, and there are couple of things about it that are notable. First, the interview before the performance contains one of my favourite Cage quotes. After the host points out that some people are going to laugh at his music, Cage responds, "I consider laughter preferable to tears." Second, more notably, people do laugh. But their laughter strikes me as perfectly good-natured. It really sounds like the audience is enjoying Cage's performance.
A lot of people are very dismissive of experimental music. Cage, unsurprisingly, tends to receive a great deal of criticism from these folks. I've long tried - thus far completely unsuccessfully - to persuade my girlfriend that he wasn't just a pretentious charlatan. He was a sincere composer, and some people genuinely enjoy his music. (No doubt that some people inspired by Cage are pretentious charlatans, but that's hardly his fault.) It's very difficult to shake the impression some people have that only "serious arty types" enjoy it, and really even they are only pretending to enjoy it. However, the reaction of the audience of I've Got a Secret suggests another way of approaching Cage's work: as something amusing, humorous, and fun. I don't think Cage ever encouraged people to see his work this way. But he didn't discourage this, either.
In fact, I think modern art in general would be far better received by the public if more people involved with it dropped the pretension, affectation, and dreariness and just embraced the fact that a lot of what they're doing is really very silly. One of my favourite contemporary artists is Jonathon Keats, largely because he clearly has a good sense of humour.
Anyway, I'm listening to a recording of Water Walk by a couple of fellas called "Duo Conradi-Gehlen". It's a really easy listen - only three minutes long, and much more active than usual for Cage: there's no silence, and loads of interesting sounds. Despite that this was composed to be both seen and heard, I think it works much better just hearing it. Aside from the fact that watching someone fill up a bathtub or turn on a radio is kinda boring, the sounds are bound to seem much more mundane if you can see them being produced. It removes the mystery and the sense of exploration.
Thursday 18 December 2014
Monday 8 December 2014
Four Solos for Voice (93-96) (1988)
This one does exactly what it says on the tin: it's four solos for voice! In fact, each solo contains various different parts, which don't seem to have any relation to each other. We might veer from opera, to religious choral vocals, to spoken word, to weird experimental stuff. Similarly, none of the parts for one voice seem to have any relation to the parts for other voices; and since all the solos are played simultaneously, the result is rather a mess. A lovely mess, but a mess all the same. Some of the parts are actually fairly conventional - in fact, there were even a few times when I thought I heard snatches of tunes that I recognized, though these were possibly coincidences - but the bass might be doing some traditional religious thing, while the tenor is doing some kooky screaming, etc.
In a way, with all the different styles, and different things happening at the same time, this recalls the extreme multiplicity in Cage's work from the 60s - pieces like HPSCHD and 33 1/3 that play various unrelated things simultaneously. But where those pieces were chaotic walls of noise, this is notable for its simplicity. We have a bare-bones arrangement: only four voices, not manipulated in any way (aside from the basics like a bit of reverb). It's actually quite restful overall, even when the singers get more dramatic and energetic.
Just to place this in context: Solos for Voice 1 and 2 were composed in 1958 and 1960 respectively, to be performed with the Concert for Piano and Orchestra. Solos for Voice 3 to 92 were composed in 1970 as part of the Song Books. Then we have this final set of four solos in 1988, which comprise an independent piece.
In a way, with all the different styles, and different things happening at the same time, this recalls the extreme multiplicity in Cage's work from the 60s - pieces like HPSCHD and 33 1/3 that play various unrelated things simultaneously. But where those pieces were chaotic walls of noise, this is notable for its simplicity. We have a bare-bones arrangement: only four voices, not manipulated in any way (aside from the basics like a bit of reverb). It's actually quite restful overall, even when the singers get more dramatic and energetic.
Just to place this in context: Solos for Voice 1 and 2 were composed in 1958 and 1960 respectively, to be performed with the Concert for Piano and Orchestra. Solos for Voice 3 to 92 were composed in 1970 as part of the Song Books. Then we have this final set of four solos in 1988, which comprise an independent piece.
Monday 1 December 2014
Quartets I-VIII (1976)
Wait - what's going on? Have I selected the wrong track? Did they put the wrong CD in the "John Cage" case?
... well, no: this is John Cage. It's one of his "imitations", and it's possibly the most conventional of a surprisingly conventional bunch of compositions. Here, Cage worked with eight pieces by a few obscure 18th-century American composers, such as William Billings, Jacob French, and Andrew Law. Just what he did with those pieces, I'm not sure. One wonders at times: did he make any changes at all? The only hint that there actually is some Cage in this is that over its 37 minute running time, it doesn't really go anywhere; there's never any sense of building towards anything: it sets a pastoral, contemplative mood in the first few seconds and then just sticks with it till the end.
So I suppose this is somewhere between ambient, minimalism, and more standard classical - but make no mistake, it's far more standard classical than it is ambient or minimalism, and it retains a distinctive eighteenth-century American flavour. It conjures up images of open prairies, wagons crossing rolling hills, and dead Indians. Even the instrumentation is traditional, involving a standard orchestra, mostly strings. The one cool twist is that since this is written for an orchestra, and since each quartet contains (obviously) only four players, the players in each quartet are different, resulting in gradual, subtle timbral changes throughout the piece.
A very easy listen. Even including his earlier years, I don't think Cage ever wrote a composition quite as emotive and as traditionally melodic as this. It's John Cage for people who don't like John Cage. When I played two minutes of this to my girlfriend, she merely found it boring, rather than completely unlistenable, so a big improvement on the norm!
... well, no: this is John Cage. It's one of his "imitations", and it's possibly the most conventional of a surprisingly conventional bunch of compositions. Here, Cage worked with eight pieces by a few obscure 18th-century American composers, such as William Billings, Jacob French, and Andrew Law. Just what he did with those pieces, I'm not sure. One wonders at times: did he make any changes at all? The only hint that there actually is some Cage in this is that over its 37 minute running time, it doesn't really go anywhere; there's never any sense of building towards anything: it sets a pastoral, contemplative mood in the first few seconds and then just sticks with it till the end.
So I suppose this is somewhere between ambient, minimalism, and more standard classical - but make no mistake, it's far more standard classical than it is ambient or minimalism, and it retains a distinctive eighteenth-century American flavour. It conjures up images of open prairies, wagons crossing rolling hills, and dead Indians. Even the instrumentation is traditional, involving a standard orchestra, mostly strings. The one cool twist is that since this is written for an orchestra, and since each quartet contains (obviously) only four players, the players in each quartet are different, resulting in gradual, subtle timbral changes throughout the piece.
A very easy listen. Even including his earlier years, I don't think Cage ever wrote a composition quite as emotive and as traditionally melodic as this. It's John Cage for people who don't like John Cage. When I played two minutes of this to my girlfriend, she merely found it boring, rather than completely unlistenable, so a big improvement on the norm!
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