Some of the Things I Heard, 26 May 2010

• alarm multiple times with 10 minutes of silence in between
• brushing teeth
• walking on concrete
• walking down concrete steps
• subway sounds, which included a very interesting wavering rumble (the train stimulated a resonance of the tunnel)
• fan noise along with the sound of coffee being poured
• crumpling of paper bag
• chewing
• typing and clicking for many hours accompanied by various office sounds and conversations, scooting of chairs, other people's computer interactions, arguments
• carrying a desk loudly in a loud freight elevator
• putting a desk together
• the scraping of heavy shelves pushed on hardwood floors
• more computer interaction
• cocktail party and award ceremony (conversations of my own with others' conversations in the background)
• subway again, no resonances were noticed this time
• the dull hissing and thuds at the laundromat
• Morton Feldman's "The Kind of Denmark" (probably played louder over speakers than he intended for it to be listened to)
• these computer interaction sounds

Seth Cluett featuring Okkyung Lee

A week ago at Roulette, Seth Cluett hosted an evening of his works. What is so intriguing about Seth–and this is apparent from the moment that he starts talking–is that he is actually interested in the audience being as completely inspired as he is by the simplicity and beauty of sound.

To start off the night, the piece Paper and Stones involved the entire audience. He handed everyone in the audience two small sheets of rough paper, except for two members who were given two small stones. The audience was instructed to rub the paper together in a circular motion at whatever speed they felt like. The two stone players were then instructed to tap the stones together once for every time that some member of the audience–anyone of their choosing–completed a circular motion with the paper. To cue the beginning of the piece, Seth crumpled a large sheet of paper very slowly. The audience then followed the simple directions until he crumpled his sheet again, signaling the ending.

The result of this piece was a meditative few minutes for everyone present. The quiet scrapes of the paper changing speed and intensity accompanied by the taps of small stones from either end of the room. I was lucky to be nearby someone with stones–allowing for a contrast between the dynamic levels of the different rhythmic tappings.

This very subtle piece almost begs for one to raise an eyebrow and say "Ok. I get it. Very clever. Can we move on?" But Seth's genuine love for the sounds around him and his want to share this with everyone else through his practice makes this performance as concrete as any I've heard in a while. If you just forget yourself for the moment and listen–as we all should do–some very exciting things happen.

Next was the premiere of Overflow and Drift for cello, sine wave oscillators, and reed drones. Okkyung Lee performed on cello as a drone played through two loud speakers. This piece is an exploration of the interaction between notes and the changes that attack and timbre can make. Okkyung has the ability to coax almost any sound out of her cello, and the musical depth that results from her meditations upon a single note is astounding. The sound of the cello beating against the amplified drone recalled James Tenney's Beast for double bass, a personal favorite of mine.

After a short break, there was a solo performance by Seth on laptop, modified electronics, and amplified objects. As with the previous pieces, single sounds were shown to be far more interesting. The piece started with the the scraping of stone and then was taken over by a beautiful electronic harmony that persisted throughout the rest of the performance with meandering notes coming in and out of focus. I realized how much I was loving the performance when I slightly turned my head and found a whole new sonic universe available within the same space. It became immediately apparent that Seth was using the room as his instrument–turning the oddities of a space into the material of the performance. I wish he had invited us to stand up and walk around in order for us to explore the spatial nuances available throughout the room.

Seth Cluett is the type of artist that I'm truly glad still exists. He is enamored and excited with the sounds that surround us, and he wants to share it with those willing to take the time. Virtuosity is not what is being explored here. Something far simpler, but often under-appreciated, is brought to the forefront in his work.

Roulette

I thought it appropriate to dedicate a posting to one of my favorite venues in New York City—Roulette. They continuously allow innovative musical voices, whether they be composers, instrumentalists, improvisors, or anything else under the sun, to perform and have their music heard.

With attendance to all creative events currently lacking, it is important that there be a means to present the contemporary forms of all art. Roulette allows for this. I encourage everyone interested in music to check out something presented here. Roulette fulfills a very important role in the creative world of New York City. Go to their website. Look for something of interest. Support live performance.

(Also of note on their website is the great catalog of videos of past performances. Great videos of Billy Bang, Robert Black, Margaret Leng Tan, Ikue Mori, and many more.)

The Theatrics of Performance (posting rethought)

If you read my previous post titled "The Theatrics of Performance", I apologize. I'm an idiot. Its a good thing that my readers are very few (perhaps very very few) at this time.

First off, of course gesture and theatrics are going to influence one's perception of music. Second off, if one is newly exposed to a subject (whether it be an artform or science or arithmetic being taught in elementary school, it doesn't matter), they are not going to necessarily understand or even focus upon what a seasoned practitioner, or admirer, would – which, frankly, is not a bad thing at all and is probably more refreshing than anything. To witness the response of someone unfamiliar often brings to surface the subtle and intricate beauties that lay atop the medium that one is so passionate about – those elements that the obsessed usually store away and forget to think about.

I hold both of these points to be true. Both of these points contradict exactly what I was saying in my previous post.

What I realized after a lot of contemplation is that I shouldn't have been frustrated that "people don't listen anymore". What I should have been frustrated with is that people only listen. I should have been frustrated that we have overly separated music and theatrics through our digestion of the recording.

(Now before I go too far on this, let me just say the following: the advancements within music in parallel with the existence of sound recording [and the proliferation of recordings] throughout society have been monumental. This is a technology that has allowed for endless study of performances and dissections of idioms. Without sound recording, the last century of music would in no way have existed as it did. Though it has largely simplified listening habits of the public due to capitalist entities' marketing tactics, it has also allowed the connoisseur to expand their taste to the infinite degree. And lets be honest, if sound recording hadn't come about, the vast majority of people would still have simplified listening habits: their surroundings and their communal music making.)

My frustration was vented in the wrong direction. We should all have our immediate reactions to every part of the performance. What makes a performance great is the fact that its not just sound. Why even try to separate the sound and gesture!?

What I'm frustrated with is the fact that no one goes to performances anymore and is able to appreciate the gesture for what it once was. We all have our moldable aural landscape which has been present since the advent of the headphones. And with the advent of the MP3, this landscape has become even more customizable. What we've done is separate music from performance to such an end that in performances we expect songs to sound exactly as they do on the recording and to be accompanied by the best show on earth. We've lost our appreciation for the simple human movements that pull beauty out of objects before our eyes.

I'm ashamed to have even thought that "getting beyond" the theatrics allows for a deeper understanding. Before recordings of music, they were one in the same, there was no separation to be seen. To understand one, the other had to be understood. And frankly, having seen technically gifted academics give very boring performances, I would say that this still holds – only we often forget it during the toils of extended study.

To finish, the fact that, as music makers and as listeners, we've pulled apart and sewn back together the traditional notions of music is fascinating and very exciting. Most preexisting notions of music have been tested ad nauseum in the past century or so, and for good reason. I just hope that we're able to preserve the majesty of musicians gathering in a room and making the music that comes to them. In order to be able to do it all, we have to experience it all.

Lawrence D. "Butch" Morris

Last Monday February 1, I was lucky enough to attend a lecture and performance given by Butch Morris and a string octet at the Stone. This was in celebration of the 25th anniversary of the first Conduction that Butch performed.

The Conduction system that Butch has developed over the years is a method for leading large ensembles in spontaneous performance. I hesitate to use the phrase "group improvisation" due to an eloquent dialogue given by Butch on the difference between improvisation and interpretation. I honestly can't give that discussion much justice. You should probably consult Butch yourself for a far more experienced and well spoken explanation than I personally could give.

Butch went through a series of his hand gestures that he uses in leading large ensembles. With the explanation of each gesture, he would lead the ensemble, focusing on the single gesture, to illustrate what can musically be accomplished within the system. So that the audience could see his gestural techniques, he had the ensemble set up with their backs to the audience with him facing forward. This gave a very intimate look into the happenings of a truly brilliant method of music making.

The following are a summation of the gestures that he discussed:

• sustain: musicians sustains a sound of their choosing
• repeat: musicians repeat a phrase of their choosing
• panorama: to play and/or to not play when passed over by a hand gesture (difficult to explain without just seeing it done)
• slow -> fast: signals for changing the speed of playing
• pedestrian: assigned musician is to bring new information to the ensemble (this is not a "take a solo" signal; in fact, there is no sign for that)
• memory: signal to the musicians to remember what they are playing, which allows Butch to recall instances within the music so as to develop themes and so forth
• graphic: musicians to interpret "graphic" input of Butch's movements
• develop: signaled musician to develop the material they are playing
• key: the note that each musician is currently playing is now their personal key

There were more signals that I didn't manage to jot down, but I think this gives a good picture of what can be accomplished. Note, there are no signals for specific harmonies and no signals for "take a solo". If he wants to hear something very specific, he writes it down and will assign the different written ideas numbers, which can be recalled just as other moments can through the use of the "memory" signal.

This system becomes very fast moving. Frankly, I believe it accomplishes so much that, on the page, would be very complex and stiff, but with the proper leadership, breathes with the beauty of true musical interaction – something that is often missing in contemporary pieces. For example, the ensemble is given the "repeat" signal. Every musician comes up with a musical gesture of their choosing at a length of their choosing and repeats. The wash of overlaying layers that is accomplished from this one signal is immediate and amazing. Notating this same idea would certainly require some effort on the interpreting ensembles part, but to me, the strict notation of such a simple yet complex idea is largely missing the point of what one would want to musically accomplish. I think this is exactly what Butch wanted to escape. And he has. Elegantly.

If you have an opportunity to see Butch perform a Conduction, GO LISTEN. The man is a master and an artist of the highest caliber.

The Theatrics of Performance

I'm not so ridiculous as to assume that one's perception of a musical performance can be separated into entities that rightfully coexist but are independent–sound content and gesture. But I have recently become very aware of the fact that whether people realize it or not, gesture or the theatrics of a performance (and I'm talking specifically about a musical performance) have far more of an effect on why they do or do not enjoy something. And maybe I'm a little biased and overly wishful that people would open their ears and close their eyes a little more often, but this says to me that people aren't listening.

I had a recent experience where someone accompanied me to a free improvisation performance. The performance was fantastic. My company enjoyed it as well, but what they noticed was certainly geared toward the gesture. "Sneezing" into the clarinet. Banging on the piano. And yes, these were integral parts to the performance, but describing them in such ways allows many to laugh or smirk at what in reality are truly interesting sounds made by seemingly absurd gestures.

Now before I sound too snarky about my listening habits and my expectations of the audience as a listening body even those just introduced to what they're seeing, let me point out that this encounter reminded me so much of my first reactions to music made in similar fashions. I was fascinated with the how and not really the result. It was only upon consideration after consideration of "why would people make music like this?" that I finally stopped and listened. And then I finally got it. There are far more interesting sounds in this world that don't rely upon melody or rhythm or being "in-tune". These sounds just exist, and, as composers or improvisers, there is an interest in allowing others to hear just what you're hearing and hope that they at least find some hint of what initially intrigued you–that sound that caught your ear, standing alone or following another.

Is this why people don't attach to certain works? Not just musical, but any creative body. As an audience, do we get caught up with the surface without bothering to look deeper?

So how do we show an audience these sounds without the "unmusical" gestures that accompany? If the gestures do distract first time audience members, are we really showing them what we want to? What about removing the gesture altogether? Something seems missing. The point of performance becomes downgraded. For myself, I find recordings of whatever unusual sound played through loudspeakers just don't cut it. They keep the spectral content but change the spatial. There is a clear change in the sound that was originally so interesting. Not that this destroys it, but it needs to be considered.

I realize that I sound overly idealistic. I'm not. An artform will never be just about the basic pieces that it claims to use. Sound is not all there is to music. Color and depth are not all there is to the visuals. Dialogue is not all there is to theatre. There will always be these other things that we digest without thinking about. I just hope we can all take in enough to be able to get past the surface–those features so easy to identify–and try to look for or hear what else is around the corner, beyond the accessible.