John Cage’s
musical and aesthetic philosophies hinge on his fight against the separation of
sound from music. In his 1937 manifesto, he expressed his desire for modern
music to be about sound rather than structure and melody. His famous 4’33” explores this idea to the extreme,
sacrificing pitch and rhythm all together and using silence itself as the
prevailing sound, forcing the listener to pay close attention to the
surprisingly dynamic nature of silence for the duration of the piece. In many
ways, Cage’s music is a response to the rapid urbanization of America in the
early 20th Century. He wants to call to mind factories, streets,
machinery, and other quintessentially urban sounds as music for a more and more
city-dwelling Western world. This emphasis on noise is defined more clearly by
a separate emphasis on chance, randomness, and even whimsy throughout Cage’s
music. He uses the mechanics of the arbitrary to separate traditional
structured music from the noise and sounds he is more interested in. Rather
than keeping time with a metronome and choosing rhythmic and pitch value based
on standards of traditional music theory, Cage uses a star chart to guide his
composition in Atlas Eclipticalis.
The locations and brightnesses of the stars create a new rhythmic and musical
structure based on natural, extra-musical, and virtually arbitrary forces.
Laurie
Anderson’s music, by contrast, is much less revolutionary in terms of the
mechanical workings of music. Rather, she uses fairly simple and essentially
traditional means of music-making as tool for artistic commentary. While it is
often worthwhile to discuss her manipulation of musical norms, such as the
ambiguous sonority she creates by alternating between a first-inversion Ab
major and a root position C minor in O
Superman, her main focus is clearly on the implications of those
manipulations and of her work as a whole. Anderson comes from the artistic
traditions of Fluxus and performance art, and draws on many fundamentally
feminist ideas throughout her repertoire. Fluxus is an avant-garde “anti-art”
movement, pointing out the (European) artificiality of imitative traditional
art and, conversely, the beauty and meaning of “non-art.” That same chordal
dichotomy in O Superman is an example
of this idea – the respective sonorities of Ab major first inversion and C
minor root position are what create the beauty and meaning, not their endless
manipulation. Performance art involves the effort to reintegrate the body into
art in the Western world, a society with an enormous amount of discomfort with
the human body and a troubling amount of normalized body shaming. Anderson uses
her body as a core component of her music. Much of it could not really be
performed by anyone else. She uses body percussion and dance elements to
aggressively humanize her work.
Osvaldo Golijov’s
music is a celebration and exploration of the Latin American experience. Like
Anderson, he is less concerned with changing the theoretical landscape of music
and more concerned with using music as a tool to commentate, give voice, and
raise cultural awareness and understanding. His La Pasión según de San Marcos specifically involves the Latin
American experience of Christianity as well as his own interpretation of the
story of Jesus as a non-Christian composer. It is indirectly a response to the Western
European liturgical and sacred music traditions that have been (and mostly
still are) the face of Christian church music and of concert music as a whole
for hundreds of years. The arrest scene in La
Pasión, for example, is set to a Latin American dance beat and uses a
Brazilian capoeiran dancer – a stark contrast to the Passions of Bach.
My musical and aesthetic
philosophies are as follows:
·
Music is communication inherently and exists to
be shared. Music cannot exist without a performer and a listener (even if these
two parties are sometimes the same person).
·
Music is performed primarily for the good of the
audience, not for the good of the performer. Music may be an expression of the
performer and may draw specific physical and/or cognitive attention to the
performer, but it must nonetheless be considered first from the perspective of
the listener’s benefit, not of the performer’s benefit.
·
The musical benefit for the performer is
nevertheless exceedingly important. Without active performer involvement, there
is nothing to draw the listener’s attention, and therefore only one party is
involved and the performance is unsuccessful.
·
Music can give voice to every culture, gender
identity, sexuality, belief system, ethnicity, social and economic class, and
ability. Music is a tool to prevent and counteract oppressive silencing.
·
Since music serves as a cultural voice, the
cultural diversity inherent to music must be upheld and respected in all cases,
and musical communication from oppressed groups must be given credence and
authority.
·
Music and musical involvement are potentially therapeutic
and healing for listener, performer, and composer alike, and this power is a
fundamental reason for its existence.
Sam,
ReplyDeleteI also see some great points in your observations and your manifesto. I like how you don't compare Cage to Anderson's work with and against Fluxus "anti-art," as Cage's works are a form of art with the absence of organized music. Golijov's background gives good insight into cultural awareness and the effect of culture on music. I will say I agree with your statements regarding performers and audience; there is just something about perception and reception of sound that makes the sound experience worthwhile.
Sam, I appreciate the thoroughness of all your blog posts. You really dig into the material.
ReplyDeleteI liked how your manifesto specifies the way music can be used, and not just what the definition of music is. I thought it was interesting that your manifesto specifies that music must be performed primarily for the audience, not the performer. Then if it isn't-- if it's performed primarily for the performer-- would you call it music? It seems to imply that you wouldn't, or that it would be wrong in some way. What if the performer performs primarily for themselves? Wouldn't the audience appreciate it too?
Sam,
ReplyDeleteAs always, your blog posts show that you learn and apply so much of what we learn in this class. You make great points about the culture society during the times of Cage, Anderson, and Golijov.
I enjoy your manifesto. I think that as a lover of choral music, this is one that can be followed. However, I can see where others may find some points questionable, depending on what style/culture of music certain people perform.