One10 (1992)

This makes an interesting contrast to the piece I heard last time, the Freeman Etudes. Like those Etudes, One10 is for solo violin. Beyond this, the pieces could not be more different. The Freeman Etudes is a composition of extraordinary complexity, which jumps rapidly across the whole field of possible notes. One10 is a late Number Piece, and - well, you probably know the drill by now: it's extremely minimal, consisting simply of long drones separated by silences, played in a uniform way without vibrato, without plucking, without any other extended techniques. It's 24 minutes long and contains maybe 40-something notes overall.

I must say that listening to this is a thoroughly refreshing experience after 100 minutes of the Freeman Etudes! Maybe this is the best way to appreciate Cage's more extreme Number Pieces. But what's notable about it is that it shows Cage's skill as a composer, particularly his ability to use chance as a tool for achieving all sorts of different ends. When listening to Cage, it's important to remember that though chance is an important part of his aesthetic, it is only one part. Chance is Cage's way of removing his own voice and emotions. It's what allows him to explore and discover. But that doesn't mean he has no destination in mind: he reaches a determinate place in an unpredictable way. This fact is really brought home when listening to radically different pieces like the Freeman Etudes and One10: the different ideas they embody, and the different sounds that we hear.

Turning to the sounds in question, it is definitely sound that is the focus here. The drones are very long, so silence has a fairly minor role, unlike with most of the other Ones and Twos. Interestingly, the drones often don't seem so much like a violin. I believe that most of it was played on harmonics, resulting in lots of high-pitched, screeching notes, occasionally quite reminiscent of whistling wind. At first, the mood seems agitated, tense - certainly, the drones are too harsh to be ambient, so it demands attention, forcing us to focus on the tiniest variations in the sound. And as the piece continues, without building up or going anywhere, without piling on more tension or releasing it, you soon come to accept the sounds as they are. I don't really know of any listening experience quite like this (well, aside from a few other Number Pieces). But I love it.