A number of Cage's compositions are "indeterminate of performance" - basically, this means that important aspects of the composition are left vague so that different performances might produce radically different sounds. One7 is an extremely minimal composition, being for a solo performer using only twelve different sounds; but since those can be any twelve sounds of the performer's choice, the different recordings of it are a fine example of indeterminacy of performance.
One version of it can be heard on the Mode release Cage Performs Cage. As the title suggests, this was performed by Cage himself, so this is maybe something of a canonical performance of the piece. Unfortunately, it also kinda sucks. Let me describe what we hear on this track. First, for about a minute, comes long stretch of silence. Then Cage very quietly hums for a second. Another long stretch of silence. Another short, quiet hum. Another long stretch of silence. Cage makes a snoring noise, then he shouts "um!". Okay, we're now about 3'30" into One7. This same thing continues for half an hour: about a minute of silence, followed by a quiet hum or a loud shout, or maybe a snoring noise. Also, note that because the hums are mixed so quietly, you probably won't even notice many of them, unless you put the volume up loud enough for the shouts to break your ears. Let's not beat around the bush here: as much as I love Cage, even for me this is pretty rubbish music.
A more interesting version can be found on OgreOgress's release One7 (from One13); One8. The sounds used in this performance were derived from One13, a composition for cello with curved bow that was unfinished when Cage died. It's since been completed by Michael Bach, but I can't find a recording of that, so this take of One7 is, for now, as close as I'm going to get to hearing One13.
Although One7 uses twelve different sounds, all the sounds here are (as in One13) actually just variations on a single note, so the music is extremely uniform throughout. Each play of the note is without vibrato and is sustained for a long time, and then followed by a stretch of silence. The piece as a whole, then, is essentially a succession of very minimal, very similar drones strung on silence like beads on a necklace. It is one of the most sparse and simple pieces of music you are ever likely to hear.
It is also, to me at least, an incredibly beautiful and moving experience. Indeed, I would even say that there is something spiritual about this, like the experience of seeing grand, expansive but minimal natural landscapes, such as large salt flats, say. A part of the reason for this is that the drones have a fairly plaintive mood - it's perhaps surprising that they have any mood at all given that only a single note is used; but I think the plaintiveness arises from the particular timbre of the cello with curved bow. In any case, it gives the music right from the start an emotional weight. Further, thanks to the fantastic production, and perhaps the use of the curved bow, the cello has a deep, resonant sound that becomes almost overwhelming when sustained for such long times.
But more significantly, there is so much more going on here than merely "one droning pitch". Like many of Cage's later compositions, this rewards - indeed, it forces - focused, attentive listening; and once we listen closely, a great deal of activity becomes clear. Most obvious are the variations in dynamics, as the drones gradually get louder or quieter. As the piece goes on and one's attention sharpens further, slight variations in timbre are heard. One then hears that the pitch does occasionally change subtly - ever so slightly higher or lower - and that it's sometimes accompanied by a quiet, airy scraping sound, produced by the bow against the strings. Throughout, the sound wobbles occasionally as a result of the imperfections of human playing. This music positively buzzes with life and feeling.
An analogue to this in the visual arts would be Yves Klein's monochromes, or Mark Rothko's more minimal "multiforms", especially the paintings of the Rothko Chapel. The Rothko comparison seems particularly apt here. Rothko rejected the idea that his paintings were abstract, and instead saw them as expressions of basic human emotions. Many of them, notably the Chapel paintings, also had an important spiritual element. Now for Cage, as you probably know, sound is just sound, and he certainly wasn't interested in expressing any emotions or spirituality - rather in merely "imitating the operation of nature". But, of course, many natural objects can provoke powerful emotional and spiritual responses. So it is with this version of One7. As mere music it is superb, drawing the listener's attention to the fascinating depth and textures of a single note. But it goes beyond mere music into the spiritually transcendent, and seems like an expression of pure, intense emotion: fear, wonder, ecstasy, anguish, awe. Perhaps these comments don't really make sense. It's difficult to put into words. In any case, there is very little art quite like it.
No doubt it's an acquired taste, not something I could recommend to many people. For me, however, there are few things in the world as beautiful as this piece of music. Obviously, then, it contrasts rather sharply with Cage's performance of One7. In two performances of one composition, we have one of Cage's worst, and one of his best. (Exactly how much the OgreOgress One7 owes to One13 is unclear, but given how fantastic their One7 is, I would love to hear Michael Bach's completed One13.)
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