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Riassumo un bell’articolo di Philip Ball su Prospect Magazine intitolato Who’s afraid of the avant-garde. L’articolo inizia citando lo scrittore Joe Queenan che  – a proposito della Sinfonia di Berio (1968) – ha scritto: <<35 minutes of non-stop torture>>. Di più, del Stockhausen’s Kontra-Punkte (1953): <<a cat running up and down the piano>>.

Da queste dichiarazioni Ball si chiede come mai questi autori non siano stati assimilati dal grande pubblico al pari di Stravinskij e Ravel. Sebbene, infatti, Queenan si sia sforzato invano di apprezzare la “nuova” musica, è giusto chiedersi perchè  Stockhausen e Penderecki siano poco apprezzati dalla stragrande maggioranza degli amanti della musica.

Stockhausen

David Stubbs, autore del libro Fear of Music, scrive che <<musical performance lacks an “original object” that, in the case of visual art, may become the subject of veneration or trade>> (la performance musicale difetta di un “originale scopo” che, nel caso dell’arte visuale, potrebbe diventare lo scopo di una venerazione o di un commercio).

Secondo Ball, però, l’analisi di Stubbs è parte di un problema, piuttosto che la soluzione.  Per Stubbs la nostra reazione alla musica è dettata dal contesto e dalla prospettiva, non da quello che ascoltiamo. Un approccio, quindi, piuttosto ideologico come quello di Adorno (difensore di Schoenberg) quando sosteneva che la tonalità era il bastione di una compiacenza borghese.

L’autore dell’articolo fa un cenno alle Teorie della Gestalt secondo le quali è presente una serie di regole mentali che aiutano le persone a fare buone associazioni e ad interpretare stimoli sensori complessi e raggrupparli insieme. Ad esempio: si presume che l’areo che entra in una nuvola e scompare sia lo stesso che ricompare dall’altro lato. Raggruppiamo, in sostanza, oggetti che sembrano simili.

Una melodia che non abbia particolari salti di intervallo è considerata sicuramente più orecchiabile di una melodia con note molto distanti fra loro. Così come la sezione ritmica di un brano aiuta a garantire una coerenza del brano che lo rende “meglio assimilabile”.  Nelle Structures I di Boulez o nelle Klavierstück VII di Stockhousen si dice che non ci sia discernimento ritmico e la linea melodica sia come le vette frastagliate delle Dolomiti.

Boulez

Ma come si può dire che  Structures I di Boulez non abbia struttura? E’  uno dei brani musicali più strutturati.  Il brano è infatti composto secondo la tecnica seriale che implica anche il concetto di “atonalismo” (termine da prendere con le pinze, non amato da Schoenberg). Atonalismo inteso come mancanza di “centro tonale”, di “ritorno a casa”. E proprio la mancanza di “centro tonale” rende l’inizio, il durante e il finale dell’opera piuttosto complicato.

Ascoltare questa musica con diverse strategie da quelle “vigenti” è la sfida che propone Ball. Se la musica non è riconosciuta come processo mentale, il suono è tutto quello che rimane.

P.s. Aggiornata sezione “libri” e “risorse musicali“.

I did this a while ago and just remembered this morning. I was doing a little presentation on using Patterns in SuperCollider and thought I might be able to make a little mock Studie II with one pattern. It’s definitely nothing as wonderful as Stockhausen’s piece, but I think it’s humorously close.

Here’s the real deal: Stockhausen’s Studie II

Here’s my code:


(
SynthDef(\notQuiteStudieII,
{
arg freq = 440, amp = 0.5, mults = #[1, 1, 1, 1, 1], sustain = 1;
var sound, filt, mix, env, attack, decay;
sound = Formlet.ar(WhiteNoise.ar(0.1), freq*mults, 0.01, 0.05);
mix = Mix(sound);
attack = Rand(0.01, 0.99) * sustain; //attack.poll;
decay = sustain - attack;
env = EnvGen.ar(Env([0, amp, 0], [attack, decay], \lin), levelScale: 0.5, doneAction: 2);
Out.ar(0, FreeVerb.ar(mix, 0.9, 0.9, 0.1) * env ! 2 )
}
).memStore;
)


(
Pbind(
\instrument, \notQuiteStudieII,
\freq, Pwrand([Pwhite(100.0, 1000.0, 1), \rest], [4, 1].normalizeSum, inf),
\mults, Pif( Pkey(\freq) < 500.0,
Pfunc( { [ {rrand(0.5, 0.6) } ! 5 ] } ),
Pfunc( { [ {rrand(0.5, 7.6) } ! 4 ++ 1 ] } ),
Pfunc( { [ {rrand(0.5, 8.0) } ! 4 ++ 1 ] } )
),
\dur, Pif( Pkey(\freq) < 650.0, Pwhite(0.1, 0.8), Pwhite(0.5, 1.9), 1),
\legato, Pif( Pkey(\freq) < 375.0, Pwhite(0.5, 1.2), Pwhite(0.9, 1.9), 1),
\amp, Pwhite(0.1, 0.5)
).play;
)


Con los ecos aún frescos de la crítica y el público por la actuación de American Girl, cuelgo hoy este post:

En “Intenciones de este blog” ya avisaba de que aquí me interesaban las relaciones entre la música pop-rock y el mundo que vivimos. Pues bien, alguien con mucho más talento y conocimiento se me ha adelantado, pero en este caso, respecto de la música clásica. En el post “The lamb lies down” ya decía algo de esto, pero Alex Ross lo dice muy bien, la verdad.

Así pues, viene al caso el libro sobre música y sociedad: “El ruido eterno” (Seix Barral) (cuyo título original es The rest is Noise). Se trata de un ensayo sobre la historia de la música clásica del siglo XX que Alex Ross ha dividido cronológicamente en tres momentos claves: desde finales del siglo XIX hasta 1933, el periodo que abarca 1933-1945 y la última parte desde 1945 hasta el año 2000. . El relato permite al lector acercarse a los acontecimientos políticos, sociales y culturales más destacados del siglo XX a través de la evolución de los diferentes movimientos y tendencias musicales, los avances tecnológicos y los compositores más relevantes. Es decir, a mi modo de ver, ofrece una mirada sobre cómo

Es en esta última parte donde se entrelaza la música clásica, o culta, con el rock, al menos con el de una época y unas influencias. Y el autor lo hace a través del minimalismo de Steve Reich. “ecos y restos de minimalismo en la música pop de finales del siglo XX los podemos encontrar en The Velvet Underground “Heroin”, o en David Bowie, por ejemplo en “V-2 Schneider” de disco Heroes que contaba con Robert Fripp, de King Crimsom. El capítulo 14, “Beethoven se equivocaba”, contiene además referencias a Dylan y a los Beatles

Por ejemplo, Ross en su blog (www.therestisnoise.com) sostiene que “en los 60 las vanguardias se hicieron pop. Los Beatles, el fenómeno más importante en la historia de la música pop, comenzaron como una simple banda de rock, pero en sus últimos años absorbieron ideas de compositores como Cage, Xenakis y Stockhausen (el quinto por la izquierda de la fila de arriba de la portada de Sgt. Pepper), eso sin mencionar a Jean Sibelius”. Y en su web se puede escuchar la comparación entre el Metástasis de Xenakis y “A day in the life” (aún resuenan las distorsiones minimalistas de la versión de Neil Young) o “Revolution Number 9” del Álbum blanco:

Se aprecia esa labor de estudio de los últimos Beatles, con repeticiones sincopadas, orquestas al revés… en fin muy Reich. Sobre Stockhausen, es curioso ver este video “musical”, más si te gustan los helicópteros que la música:

Aunque a mí me recuerda a una película de Little Einsteins, quizás porque el minimalismo ha llegado también a la factoría Disney.

PD: por cierto, para solicitar actuaciones en vivo al autor de este blog, dejar un comentario.

Michael Hall gave me copies of two flyers, one for each of the two WCSSs. The 1964 is the material posted here. I had paid far less attention to the 1965 flyer, since I already had this information from the concert programme. Or so I thought.

Looking more closely at the flyer for 1965 reveals several differences to the concert programme. On the 31 August 1965, H.O. Young, treasurer of the WCSSs, wrote to the Arts Council with the certified accounts of the 1965 WCSS. Harry Robinson replied, in part, saying:

Were any concert programmes issued? If so, I should be grateful to have copies as the only items of printed material on our file are two leaflets (a single foolscap and a quarto sized folder).

The quarto sized folder is given in this post. The flyer is for the 1964 event, given here. H.O. Young immediately replied (7 September) with the concert programme on which I have been basing my understanding of what was performed in 1965, and which I posted here. The entire text of his letter is:

Dear Mr Robinson,

In reply to your letter of the 6th instant. I am sorry to have caused some confusion by basing the statement on six concerts instead of five as originally submitted in May.

I enclose two copies of the Concert programmes from whcih you will see that concerts were given each day with the exception of Monday, when then concert as advertised was given on Tuesday.

The sixth concert was on Saturday and describted as the ‘Participants Concrt [sic]‘. It was made up of the following items:-

Bach    Double Concerto for 2 violins in D minor. Leonard Freedman and Emmanuel Hurwitz.

Bach    Cantata conducted by John Aldis and sung by participants. Solo parts by Barbara Elsy, Pauline Stevens, Geffrey Shaw and Ian Partridge.

March ‘Verdi’ from Macbeth played by Participants and conducted by John Aldis.

The concert was well attended and included in the average attendances as stated. (ACGB/51/1265)

Based on this letter, it is reasonable to assume that the concert programme is more accurate than the flyer. Of course, this is not entirely certain, though it is the basis of the WCSS’s claim on their Arts Council guarantee, and the letter from Young seeks to clarify differences between the concert programme and the actual concerts.

Sunday 15 August

Schoenberg’s Two Songs and Webern’s Three Songs were not advertised but were performed.

Tuesday 17 August

Boulez’s Sonata No. 3 was not performed, though it was in the flyer

Schoenberg’s Piano Pieces op.23 was performerd

Martirano’s Coctail Music was performed.

Thursday 19 August

The flyer give a general overview:

‘Concert of old and new music for voices in consort, clarinet and percussion; including first performances of  work by Robert Sherlaw Johnson, Ring a Dumb Carillion by Harrison Birtwistle, and consort music by Lassus, Le June, Ravel, Debussy, Tippett, etc.’

This programme was substantially reworked. The only piece common to both the flyer and the programme is by Robert Sherlaw Johnson.

Saturday 21 August

Michael Hall suggests that Stockhausens Klavierstük IX was performed in place of the flyer’s V, VII and VIII.

Feldman’s Last pieces were performed.

So too were Messiaen’s Neumes Rhythmiques and Ile de Feu I

The participant’s concert was given on the flyer as:

Alexander Goehr Little Music for Strings

Stravinsky Octet

Hugh Wood New Work for chorus and instruments

David Bedford Dreams of the Seven Lost Stars (first performance written for the Summer School)

Handel Ode for the Birthday of Queen Anne

This is very different to the programme given by Young, above.

In the two WCSSs no Boulez were performed. The only Webern performed were the songs, and these were placed alongside Schoenberg’s songs. One senses a move away from the repertoire core to Darmstadt and towards ‘traditional’ music making.

These discrepancies are typical of the difficulties in articulating the WCSSs. It is extremely difficult to work out what music was actually performed. The Arts Council’s archive is valuable for the documentation it contains, written at the time, which lends weight to some evidence (the concert programme) over other (the flyers).

Hugh Wood’s new work listen in the flyer for the participant’s concert did, according to Wood take place, though with a professional choir and not the participant’s choir. It remains unclear when this happened. Wood on the piece:

(LS100044; from 47′48″)

} Ballet Lorraine @ Sesc Pinheiros dia 30 e 31 de Outubro.

O ano da França no Brasil está quase acabando, mas ainda podemos (e devemos) aproveitar os eventos e participações francesas no Brasil à preços populares.

O Ballet de Lorraine apresenta o espetáculo Hymnen. Música: Stockhausen. Concepção artística de Lia Rodrigues, bailarina e coreógrafa brasileira, Didier Deschamps, diretor da companhia, e Gérard Fromanger, pintor e artista gráfico. Teatro Paulo Autran. Não é permitida a entrada após o início do espetáculo.

Bersarin von Aisthesis und Momoroulez von Metalust und Subdiskurse (siehe Blogroll) sowie ich haben kürzlich lose verabredet, ein paar Adorno-Aufsätze zur Ästhetik und zum Jazz zu lesen und darüber zu reden. Eine schöne Idee. In den letzten Tagen habe ich nicht gelesen, sondern darüber nachgedacht und festgestellt, dass ich mit Adornos Ästhetik im Unreinen bin. Dazu ein paar Sätze.

Adornos Reiz bestand für mich seit den Tagen meines Nebenfachphilosophie-Studiums in den Neunzigern vor allem in der Dialektik der Aufklärung, dem dortigen Kulturindustriekapitel und seinen vielen kleinen Texten zu diesem und jenem (beispielsweise in den Minima Moralia und den Prismen). Seine beiden Hauptwerke, eben vor allem die Ästhetische Theorie, aber auch die Negative Dialektik, waren mir zu sperrig, der Aufbau zu abstrus und seine Idee, dass in einem Text jeder Satz gleichweit vom Mittelpunkt entfernt sein müsse, zu unpädagogisch. Nichts gegen einen guten Essay, aber bitte nicht auf 500 Seiten. Für eine genaue Lektüre fehlte mir also die Zeit, und da das eine dämliche Ausrede ist: der Antrieb. (Nebenbei: Die Negative Dialektik schenkte mir ein Freund zum bestandenen Examen mit der lustigen Widmung “Eine unbeschwerte Lektüre wünscht …” Wohl dem, der das schafft!).

Der Grundgedanke der Negativen Dialektik ist mir dennoch sympathisch, bei der Adornoschen Ästhetik bleibe ich reserviert, obwohl das eigentlich kaum zu trennen sein sollte. Ich bin da, wie gesagt, nicht drin, aber man braucht ja immer einen Anlass, sich mit etwas zu beschäftigen, und der fehlt mir da eben.

Sicher ist mir der (neo-marxistische) Ansatz nicht fremd, der Kunst und Gesellschaft zusammendenkt und auch ein angeblich interesseloses Wohlgefallen in irgendeiner Weise gesellschaftlich verortet. Kunst als Gesellschaftskritik. Und dass Kunst im Kapitalismus zur Marke, zum unverbindlichen Angebot einer individuellen Wertsteigerung des Subjekts degradiert wird, ist jedem offensichtlich, der sehen kann. Spätestens, wenn Westerwelle erzählt, dass er die Leipzig School sammelt, sollte man stutzig werden. Kunst als Affirmation ist bestenfalls Kunsthandwerk, das ich gar nicht lächerlich machen will, doch das sollte man dann auf einer anderen Ebene verhandeln. Kunst sollte aber genausowenig Affirmation eines gedachten Anderen sein, sondern versuchen, den Schein, das nicht-begriffliche Andere auszudrücken, und das am besten mimetisch.

So weit, so theoretisch. Doch was sagt Adorno konkret über Ästhetik, über Kunst, über Musik? Was mir zentral in Erinnerung ist: Kunst muss sich am avanciertesten Stand des Materials orientieren, sonst ist sie keine. Schon damit habe ich meine Probleme. Was ist der avancierteste Stand des Materials und wer bestimmt das? Ist das nicht gnadenlos elitär und eindimensional? Dieser Fortschrittsgedanke hat etwas Zwanghaftes.

Vorab: In dem, was schlechte Musik ist, kann man Adorno leicht zustimmen.  Der “durchs Radio dressierte Hörer” (EM, S. 39) hört viel musikalisch Regrediertes, das sich an das “unerbittlich strikte Schema” (ebd.) zu halten hat sicher. Die Wiederkehr des Immergleichen.”

Doch was ist gute Kunst? Schon Adornos Musikgeschichte hat etwas Monothematisches? Die Vorklassik  hat das Subjekt nicht berücksichtigt und ist deshalb uninteressant. Nun ja. Beethoven hat sich radikale gestalterische Freiheiten erlaubt, Mozart drückt durch “Mannigfaltigkeit, in den zartesten Übergängen” (PM, S. 79) das Subjekt nuanciert in seinem Umfeld aus, bestimmt richtig. Die Romantik hat versagt, weil der Anspruch der Einheit ein romantisch-verklärter war, das Subjekt war verloren. Der Expressionismus hat als Gegenbewegung das Subjekt absolut gesetzt. Soweit der Kurzdurchlauf, der ja seine Begründung haben mag, ich kenne mich da nicht gut aus. Doch wenn die historische Entwicklung in den 1920er Jahren auf die Zwölftonmusik hinausläuft und auf sonst nichts, dann ist mir das zu blöd. Da musste es die Zwölftonmusik sein, alles andere war nicht avanciert genug: “Philosophie der Musik ist heute nur möglich als Philosophie der neuen Musik” (PM, S. 19).

Was ist an der Zwölftonmusik so toll? Die Zwölftonreihe ist eine Folge der zwölf gleichberechtigten Töne einer Oktave, die vom Komponisten festgelegt wird. Als Variati­onsmöglichkeiten stehen die Spiegelung, also die Umkehrung an der Horizontalen, au­ßerdem der Krebs, die Umkehrung an der Vertikalen, und schließlich die Spiegelung des Krebses, also die horizontale Umkehrung des Krebses, zur Verfügung.In einer Reihe darf kein Ton wiederholt werden, ehe nicht die anderen elf intoniert wurden. Das führt dazu, dass es keine Leittöne mehr gibt. Alle Töne sollen gleichberechtigt nebeneinander stehen und jeder Ton die gleiche Nähe zum Mittelpunkt des Werkes haben. (Erinnert an an Adornos Idee vom Essay.) Tonalität schlägt in Atonalität um. Dadurch existiert kein Thema mehr im herkömmlichen Sinn, sondern vielmehr die Reihe, die an dessen Stelle tritt. Diese verbindlichen Regeln führen zu einer gewissermaßen mathematischen Art des Komponierens. Es gibt keine “freie” Note mehr.

Und genau so hört sich das für meine Ohren an. Ich will mir gar kein Urteil anmaßen über die theoretische Qualität dieser Musik. Aber mein Gefühl beim Hören – und ich habe das Gefühl, dass das kein Ressentiment ist – ist ein ernüchterndes. Und dieses Gefühl will ich nicht zur Gefühlsduselei herabgewürdigt wissen.

In einem Zeit-Artikel zum Thema hat Christoph Drösser einiges Interessantes gesagt, was aber von kompetenten Zeigenossen wie Bersarin und Momoroulez in der Luft verrissen wurde. Mir ist die Kritik nicht grundfremd, aber sie lässt mich unbefriedigt. Drösser hat sich mit der Hörerfahrung von Zwölftonmusik beschäftigt und meint im Kern: Wer sich in die Zwölftonmusik erst einmal hineingehört hat, kann davon berührt werden. Aber das setzt eine musikwissenschaftliche Ausbildung voraus. Wer die nicht hat, scheitert an der neuen Musik. Also praktisch alle.

Elitenbildung und Fachwissen auf hohem Niveau als Voraussetzung für Hörgenuss? Und wer dieser Elite nicht angehört, hört halt regressiven Schrott? Mit dieser Einstellung konnte Adorno in seinem Verhältnis zum Jazz nicht weiterkommen. Und dieses geradezu zwanghafte Verhältnis zu Musik ließ ihn offensichtlich auch nicht auf die Idee kommen, seine aus den 1930er Jahren stammende Meinung in den Fünfzigern oder Sechzigern zu überdenken. Ich kann mir nicht vorstellen, dass er damals den zeitgenössischen Jazz nicht wahrgenommen hat. Er war diesbezüglich extrem abgehoben, und das soll er ruhig, aber aus dieser Warte alle anderen musikalischen Bemühungen nicht nur zu relativieren, sondern sie als Ausdruck des falschen gesellschaftlichen Bewusstseins zu diskreditieren, schließt auf einen zweifelhaften Elitebegriff, der gerade einem Adorno nicht gut zu Gesicht steht.

Ich habe den Eindruck, als verteidigten die Drösser-Kritiker die Zwölftonmusik, weil sie ihn nicht nur als Zwölftonmusikkritiker wahrnehmen, sondern als Kritiker der Dialektik der Aufklärung. Und das ist meiner Meinung nach zu kurz gesprungen. Sicher ist Drössers Auffassung Blödsinn, dass Adorno “alles Schöne und Gefällige in der Musik verhasst” gewesen sei, aber das war ja nicht der wesentliche Gehalt des Artikels.

Dabei war Adorno selbst gleichzeitig auch ein Kritiker der Zwölftonmusik. Auch sie ist vorm dialektischen Umschlag nicht gefeit. Der Zwölftonkomponist muss bei seiner Arbeit “warten, welche Zahl her­auskommt und [kann] sich freuen, wenn es eine ist, die musikalischen Sinn gibt” (PM, S. 67). Der Kom­ponist, ange­treten, um mittels selbst gesetzter Regeln Musik durchorganisiert und kon­trol­liert zu schaffen, wird Opfer seiner selbst. “Keine Regel erweist sich als repressiver denn die selbstgestellte.” (PM, S. 69) Neue Musik als systemstabilisierend wie ein Schlager, wäre jene so simpel wie dieser. Die Darmstädter Ferienkurse für neue Musik sollten dem wohl abhelfen. Cage und Stockhausen machten die Sacher allerdings nicht besser.

In dem Aufsatz Vers une musique informelle nennt Adorno übrigens einige Kriterien für gute Musik, die aufhorchen lassen. Es soll eine sein, “die im Produktionsprozess selbst sich nicht absehen lässt” (VMI, S. 523), eine, “die die Angst los wird, indem sie reflektiert und ausstrahlt, sich nicht von ihr gängeln lässt. Aber die Angst vor dem Chaos ist musikalisch nicht anders als sozialpsychologisch: überwertig” (VMI, S. 514). Das trifft auf viele Varianten des Jazz zu. (zumal man den Jazzbegriff generell auf den Müll werfen muss, weil sich mittlerweile so viel unter ihm subsumiert, dass er wertlos geworden ist.) Angst vor dem Chaos würde ich  eher der Zwölftonmusik attestieren als Avantgarde-Jazz. Adorno war somit vielleicht nahe dran, auch andere zeitgenössische Musik fair zu bewerten. Er sprach sogar vom fehlenden “Triebleben der Klänge” und: “Nicht bloß die Töne sind vorweg gezählt, der Primat der Linien lässt die Klänge verkümmern”. (PM, S. 83). Doch ihm fehlte der Mut zum Groove, stattdessen wurde er in Darmstadt noch extremer. Ich habe den Eindruck, er lehnte dort musikalische Ordnung um des Prinzips willen ab, statt den Ordnungsbegriff als quantitativ hintanzustellen und stattdessen zu gucken, was die Musik mit ihm macht.

Der historisch sedimentierte Geist auf seinem entwickeltesten Niveau, der auch in Musik zum Ausdruck kommt, erlaubt mehr als zwölf Töne. Der avancierteste Stand des Materials kann sich in einem guten Groove genauso entfalten wie seinerzeit in der genialen Bitches Brew von Miles Davis oder in den besten Sachen von Coltrane oder eben auch in den späten Sonaten von Beethoven. Selbst ein Dudler wie Grant Green und seine Mitstreiter schaffen es auf Green is beautiful (was sich gerade auf meinem Plattenteller dreht), einen lässigen Sound mit treibenden Percussions und Congas zu spielen, bei dem sich diese beiden Komponenten, Lässigkeit und Getriebenheit, wunderbar ergänzen und durch die weiche und warme Gitarre unterstützt werden. Ist das wie ein “Einrichtungsgegenstand, wie gefälliges Ledersofa, reduzierbar auf einen billigen Gebrauchswert”, wie Bersarin meint? Ich fände es dreist, das als regressiv zu bewerten, bloß weil es im Viervierteltakt bleibt und gleichzeitig  Cage oder Stockhausen irgendwelche Geräuschinstallationen zusammenbasteln, die kein Schwanz mehr versteht außer Adorno und seine Adepten in Darmstadt und Donaueschingen. Vielleicht ist Green aber auch nur die bessere Kiffer-Musik. Ja, Musik soll Genuss bereiten! Von jedem guten Film erwarte ich das, egal, wie sperrig er ist. Wenn mir ein Film nicht in irgendeiner Weise Genuss bereitet, ist es kein guter Film. Dann ist zumindest ein Kriterium nicht erfüllt. Bei Musik ist das genauso. Oder wird der Genussbegriff auf Popcorn und Cola im Kino und auf möglichst störungsfreies Gequatsche, während im Hintergrund die Musik läuft, reduziert?

In den Ideen zur Musiksoziologie schreibt Adorno etwas Merkwürdiges: “Ob der Pulsschlag eines Musikhörenden sich be­schleunigt, und ähnliches, bleibt gegenüber dem spezifischen Verhältnis zu ge­hörter Musik ganz abstrakt.”

Vielleicht war das sein Problem. Man sollte Musik nicht nur mit den Noten in der Hand hören. Wenn Musik sich auf Wissenschaft reduziert, beschneidet sie sich wesentlicher Eigenschaften. Jazz ist dann abzulehnen genau wie die Musik indigener Völker oder geistig Behinderter. Der sedimentierte Geist ist kein universaler, der sich nur in der einen Wahrheit verkündet. Wenn ich das Triebleben der Klänge suche, kann ich auch mal mit den Fingern schnippen. Auch ohne Geräuschinstallationen kann ich die realen gesellschaftlichen Verhältnisse ablehnen.

Soweit dieser kleine Versuch einer Vorbemerkung zu Adornos Verhältnis´ zum Jazz. Ich bin kein Fachmann, wollte das aber ganz unausgegoren mal gesagt haben.

———————

Die meisten Zitate habe ich einer alten Seminararbeit von mir zum Thema entnommen. Abkürzungen:

PM: Philosophie der Neuen Musik, Franfkurt a.M. 1993. (ist, glaube ich, identisch mit dem entsprechenden Band in den GS)

EM: Einleitung in die Musiksoziologie, Frankfurt a.M 1973. (ebenfalls identisch)

VMI: Vers une musique informelle, GS 16.

]]> http://beeroth.wordpress.com/2009/10/25/aboutrobots/ Sun, 25 Oct 2009 00:06:34 +0000 beeroth http://beeroth.wordpress.com/2009/10/25/aboutrobots/

In Firefox 3, there is a well-known Easter Egg.  Tryping ‘About:Robots’ into the address bar presents a series of quotations made (allegedly) by or about robots.  The most salient of which is ‘You plastic pal who’s fun to be with’.  If you don’t get the reference, I suggest that you stop reading this entry now.  Alternatively, look it up.  There’s plenty of information and it might even raise a chuckle.

The idea of mechanism is one with which I’ve been struggling all week.  Without realising it, I’ve been discovering the extremes of human cultural robotism.  One the one hand, Kraftwerk and the ‘Terminator’ films (I will conclude that the first one is by FAR the best, although ‘Judgment Day’ is good.  Three is too obvious and I haven’t even given ‘Salvation’ a chance yet) and yet on the other Stockhausen (I will explain) and the Dead Kennedys.  Two of which demonstrate clinical precision and two do not.  Stockhausen (‘Kontake’) demonstrates human control over what is otherwise fairly mechanically-produced music.  In a sense it hybridises both the electrical and the human, although at the time it was clearly the experimental edge of the new machine control – so in the modern context it appears so.

Ironic how the passage of time can change the mechanistic nature of a work.  What was once the ultimate in ‘machine’ is now considered positively manual analogue.  To me, this explores the idea of a humanistic ‘drive to perfection’ which underlies much of our philosophy.  Nietzsche’s idea of the ‘ubermensch’ being incarnate in the construction of ever more powerful machines in the pursuit of this human idea (and it is very human) of ‘perfection’.  We see it in audio production, we see it in film – we even see it in society, although thankfully less since the end of the Cold War.  It is a strive that I believe is futile.  The reasons are obvious – a very definition of ‘perfection’ is difficult to ascertain and in certain cases where it IS definable, it is impossible.  Absolute Zero is a temperature that cannot be achieved, although the success would be deemed a ‘perfect’ result.  Indeed, I see much in this ‘Absolute Zero’ analogue.  Although scientists increasingly reach closer and closer (last count, to within two billionths of a degree Kelvin) they will never achieve that elusive figure.

This analogy fits in nicely with my idea of perfection.  In a sense, the closer you come to your ultimate goal (that goal being the ‘perfect’ outcome) of whatever you are attempting, the further from ‘actual’ perfection you are.  This is because of a inverse distance effect, where 99.9% will be the only ever outcome.  As progress is limited further numerically, the longer it takes to obtain that extra 0.0001% – a self-imposed time limit on progress.  An extra distance from ‘perfection’.

That of course, assumes that all perfection can be measured.  Of course it cannot be.  I am making assumptions about the readers’ abilities of basic subjective/objective analysis.  Not everything is numerical (no matter what various governments may want us to think).  But the ‘extra’ hour you spend on writing that chord progression to get it ‘perfect’ usually seems pretty pointless in comparison to the time you spent writing the main outline of the piece.

The point?  First sketches usually make the most sense.  Polish, but don’t strive.

Ornitologia 2009-10-04 episode is heading by snail mail for the archive at Stockhausen-Stiftung für Musik, in Kürten, Germany.

This show is also featured in Pedro Amaral’s site, as the portuguese composer, maestro and scholar was interviewed about the life and work of Karlheinz Stockhausen.

So, I throw out the term “new music,” along with “modern music,” and “contemporary music.” In other words, music that is composed in the 20th century and later. EwwuglySchoenbergmodernkeepitawaymyearshurtgivemeBeethoven.

Being in a music school, I hear it all the time. Mostly from students, occasionally from a professor. I have to admit that it gives me a feeling of anger and sometimes a feeling of uncontrollable laughter, to know those who have such a COMPLETE OPPOSITION to music beyond the mid 19th century (or recent music that resembles the mid 19th century and earlier). Don’t worry, I keep those feelings to myself. On one occasion, I had to speak in front on my university’s Board of Trustees on behalf of the students of the composition program and was confronted with a statement that went something very similarly to this: “If an orchestra performs something that I detest on a concert, then I may not buy a season pass next year.” I have to say that I find these kinds of attitudes to be very worrisome.

It can be stated (very) arguably that Beethoven was the Schoenberg of his time. His later music was not widely accepted; as a matter of fact, it was found to be quite boisterous and not pleasing to the ear. His music, in addition to his personality and deteriorating health, made him rather unpopular. However, he was innovative. He redefined the sonata (both the large work and the form); he introduced extreme contrasts in register, dynamics, and texture; he presented extreme chromatic relationships both harmonically and melodically, and the list goes on. Beethoven’s influence expanded to composers Franz Liszt and Johannes Brahms.

In a nut shell, Beethoven WAS new music.

Jump ahead into Schoenberg. In his younger years, he was known for expanding on the romantic traditions of Brahms and Wagner, and making innovations in atonality. What we know Schoenberg for is the widely influential and highly academic twelve-tone method, which influenced composers like Berg, Webern, and Babbitt and defined the abstract world of classical composition in the 20th century. Alongside the twelve-tone method were Edgar Varese and Karlheinz Stockhausen, who were major developers of electronic music. During their time, we see the development of the Theremin, the Moog synthesizer, the Hammond organ, and the ondes martenot. Their techniques are apparent in the music of Olivier Messiaen, the film scores of Bernard Herrmann, and the popular music of the Beatles (especially Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and the White Album).

Just so you know, Schoenberg WAS new music.

In a response of opposition to the abstract nature of modern music, came the idea and technique of minimalism, developed by La Monte Young, Terry Riley, Steve Reich and Philip Glass. Minimalism had a heavy hand in rock music and in techno music. A very well-known song among the classic rock crowd is Baba O’Riley (or maybe you think of it as Teenage Wasteland), a tribute to Terry Riley which features an arpeggiating synthesizer throughout the song.

New music is extremely necessary; it’s as necessary now as it was in the Middle Ages, hence Ars Nova (New Art). Composers are always exploring new ground. However, it can’t be done without support. It concerns me that there are attitudes like the man on the Board of Trustees, who was willing to cut off his financial support from the orchestra if they played something that he didn’t care for. Unfortunately, he’s not the only one. These are hard times for professional and amateur ensembles and makes new music less and less marketable for both performance and publishing. As a result, composing becomes less financially viable. But to say that you don’t support new music, means that you don’t care for the future of the arts. Listening to new music doesn’t imply developing tolerance for it, but rather developing appreciation. Have respect for new music as long as its composed well.

Programa totalmente dedicado a Karlheinz Stockhausen, a propósito do ciclo que lhe reserva a Gulbenkian neste fim-de-semana prolongado. O maestro e compositor Pedro Amaral, estudioso e antigo colaborador de Stockhausen fala sobre as obras em escuta na Gulbenkian, a encomenda de  Schönheit e a personalidade do compositor alemão. Audição de excertos de Klang, Licht e da totalidade de Gesang der Jünglinge.

Today’s show is about the life and work of Karlheinz Stockhausen as well as the special cycle that the Gulbenkian Foundation devotes him. About this, Ornitologia interviews the Portuguese maestro and composer Pedro Amaral, also a Stockhausen scholar and collaborator. To be heard: excerpts of Klang, Licht and the complete Gesang der Jünglinge.

1. Stockhausen – Friday Temptation, Tone Scene 1, Freitag aus Licht [excerpt] (Stockhausen-Verlag CD 50)
2. Pedro Amaral – O ciclo Klang
3. Stockhausen – Himmelfahrt (Ascension) Bar 414, Klang [excerpt] (Stockhausen-Verlag CD 83)
4. Stockhausen – Freude (Joy) Bar 255, Klang [excerpt] (Stockhausen-Verlag CD 84)
5. Pedro Amaral – A encomenda de Schönheit, 6ª hora de Klang
6. Stockhausen – Friday Temptation, Score Page 1, Freitag aus Licht [excerpt] (Stockhausen-Verlag CD 50)
7. Pedro Amaral – “As a name, I am a myth”
8. Stockhausen – Himmels-Tür (Heaven’s Door) [excerpt] (Dress Rehearsal – Stockhausen Courses Kürten 2006, Stuart Gerber, Percussion)
9. Pedro Amaral – O trato pessoal de Stockhausen
10. Stockhausen – Gesang Der Jünglinge

All Karlheinz Stockhausen’s CDs, scores and books are available trough Stockhausen-Verlag.

No Ornitologia de hoje, destaque para o fim-de-semana Stockhausen na Gulbenkian, em Lisboa, com cinco estreias portuguesas e uma mundial do ciclo Klang. Em escuta, um excerto de Sirius por Markus Stockhausen. O Teatro Real de Madrid estreia nova produção da ópera Lulu de Alban Berg. Para acompanhar, o interlúdio do Acto I por Bruno Maderna com a orquestra da RAI. O dia mundial da música, 1 de Outubro, é comemorado pela  Orquestra Metropolitana de Lisboa com um programa escolhido pelo público. Audição integral de uma das obras seleccionadas: o Idílio de Siegfried de Richard Wagner, em versão original por Otto Klemperer dirigindo a orquestra Philarmonia.

In today’s Ornitologia the preview of Gulbenkian’s Stockhausen weekend that brings to Lisbon five Portuguese and one worldwide premiere of works from the last cicle of the composer, Klang. On this show, an excerpt from Sirius played by Markus Stockhausen. The Teatro Real in Madrid premiers a new production of Alban Berg’s Lulu. Ornitologia selects the interlude from Act I by Bruno Maderna and the RAI orchestra. Finally, the Orquestra Metropolitana de Lisboa celebrates the internatinal day of music with a concert featuring an audience selected program. Wagner’s Siegfried Idyll was one of the choices and Ornitologia airs the complete Otto Klemperer with Philarmonia Orchestra recording.

After picking up a pretty Panicsville slab of translucent red vinyl with enough robot-damaged circuit-rock to choke a cyborg, I was converted. I now search for P-ville as I do all life-affirming audio comestibles: with tremendous vigor and urgency.

Panicsville’s limited-edish split with Rubber Cement firmly affixed its groove onto my brain, and so I must tell you about it.

P-ville slap down 8 tracks in their oh-so-short allotted time, and they make the most of it. Songs like “Turn Me On” and “Unending Ovular Motion” are much more experimental than the by-comparison linear stuff I was used to, like Neptune stripped to the absolute marrow.

Lazers, pixels, microchips, Tron, short-circuiting hardware, Atari 2600; it’s all in there, like a future-found-sound document for futureheads to glom onto in The Year 2222. And what do you know, there’s an angular bass pattern waiting about halfway down the pike if you can make it.

That’s when things get tough ‘n’ tangled. The drip-drip-drip of an electric faucet and the whooosh-whooosh-whooosh of a digital hairdryer make for some fucked-up interplay, and then things really get clotted as a barrage of finger-paint noise blots invade, with several greyish-brown thumps leaving a smoking stamp on your brain.

You can’t go wrong with Panicsville if you want ColecoVision music for the new millennium. This goes deeper than a lot of the experimental stuff out there, touching on Stockhausen, Varese, Kraftwerk and Faust in a few fell swoops. Mesmerizing.

It’s hard to get excited about flipping to Side B when A is so spit-shined, but Rubber Cement match Panicsville’s furor blip for blip. Like flash.bat, Yellow Swans, Insect Joy and John Wiese, Rubber Cement mash up a sound soufle with a lot of wrinkles.

There’s even some fast-forward screaming and bashing, conjuring up super-old Boredoms at their atom-smashing best, providing some diversity and keeping the Rubber Cement side sticking.

And those clanks and scrapes coming from the basement? Yep, those are not coming from your basement …

I haven’t been this satisfied with an experimental split LP in a long-ass time (the Tarantisimo Summit doesn’t count because it’s a four-way split). This one really covers all the bases, from minimalist swirl-sketches to bleep-bloop wars to siren call-and-response to digital-audio schematics of video-game characters battling with each other Street Fighter-style.

You’ll want to dial this in sooner than later.

A música Fluxos não é uma música feita a partir de sons como era mais ou menos a música concreta dos franceses após 1945: circulavam com um gravador e gravavam os barulhos da rua. O Fluxos também nada tem haver com a música sintética como era produzida por Stockhausen em sua música eletrônica. São procedimentos musicais que nascem ou são produzidos através de uma ação artística, seja viva, seja carregada de imagens. Quer dizer que, durante a maior parte do tempo, o procedimento visual e acústico constitui simultaneamente um acontecimento único, e o efeito visual não deve ser dissociado do Fluxos. Assim, quando ocorre um concerto de Fluxos, o visual é um elemento muito importante, é apenas à partir do procedimento visual que o ruído tornou-se possível. No fundo, é uma música “livre” criada por procedimentos “live”: música de acontecimentos!

Wolf Vostell – Catálogo geral 17ª Bienal de São Paulo. pg 319. DT3599

1983

Der er en forholdsvis usmagelig (slags) vittighed, der lyder, at USA, der i øvrigt har givet verden så meget, kun har fostret tre originale og sande amerikanske kunstformer, nemlig 1) tegneserien, 2) jazzmusikken og 3) seriemordet.

Jeg kom i tanker om vitsen, da jeg for et øjeblik siden sad og læste Politikens omtale af kunsthistoriker Mikkel Bolts kommende bog, “Avantgardens selvmord”. Fordi 1) jeg er kringlet og 2) på grund af det dér ord … avantgarde.

Avantgarde er fransk og betyder fortrop. Det er en militærbetegnelse, som nogle kunstnere og kunstteoretikere i tidens løb har yndet at bruge — dengang, altså, da kunsten (helst) skulle være militant. Og udkæmpe slag — for eksempel mod ligegyldigheden og fordummelsen, mod den dårlige smag, mod alting reaktionært, traditionen, kirken o.s.v.

Det var i det store og hele – dengang – VARM LUFT. Og nu om stunder er luften forlængst feset ud. Idéen om avantgarden er død, og det, synes jeg personligt, er sådan set udmærket, for det var en lidt klam fidus.

Ad snoede baner oppe i mit hovede nåede jeg – og i en fortrinlig tid, hvis jeg selv skal sige det – fra “avantgarde” over Stockhausens udtalelse om 9/11 som djævelens største kunstværk nogensinde til de sidste dages terrorbomber i forbindelse med valget i Afghanistan. Og den (tilsvarende) helt igennem smagløse association: At også en del af tidligere tiders såkaldte avantgarde-kunstnere selvdestruerede (omend mestendels kun åndeligt) i deres militante kamp for utopiske fjollerier — og at de som selvmordsbombemændene kun vil blive husket af en lille klike af medsammensvorne.

Dagens musik – her i Kildemarken i Ringsted – er Messiaens store fuglekatalog, “Catalogue d’oiseaux“, spillet af Håkon Austbø. Pling, pling, plang, pling … Plunk.

Messiaen elskede fuglestemmer. Han rejste rundt og noterede deres sange. Franske fugle, orientalske fugle, amerikanske fugle. Som Christopher Dingle (næsten) beskriver det i den biografi, jeg netop nu er i gang med at læse: Efter at have sendt de tossede unger (Boulez, Stockhausen og Xenakis) hjem, tog bedstefar støvlerne på og gik ud i skoven … og så videre.

For Messiaen, som var et gevaldigt religiøst menneske, sang fuglene om Vorherre. For alle os andre og mere jævne folk er fugle nogle decideret skrækindjagende væsener — næsten lige så slemme som heste.

Her er Alfred Hitchcock:

Her er Dario Argento:

Her er en pestlæge:

Og fra et maleri af Max Beckmann:

Og her er en arakkoa fra World of Warcraft:

Was searching the Internet for a particular section of a biography on Karlheinz Stockhausen I read quite some time ago. Didn’t find what I was looking for, but found this little gem instead:

SECONDS: In the program notes to Momente you say you rejected dualistic thinking in favor of polyvalent thinking.

STOCKHAUSEN: Well, that started very slowly during the late Fifties. It is basically the result of what we call even today “serial thinking.” That means that if you have any kind of opposition – black and white for example – at the moment you begin to think in degrees of grays, then you already think like a serial composer, which means there must be equidistant differences between the different degrees of gray. And then you make a scale, and you interpolate, permutate the steps of the scale, and you have serial composition. So dualistic thinking, like sound and pause, or like noise and sound, high and low, or music and not-music, et cetera, is a traditional kind of thinking. But since the Fifties relativity has come into our way of thinking on all levels. And now I can transform a mouse into a glass – you see what I mean?

Orginally published in SECONDS #44 ©1997
http://www.stockhausen.org/stockhausen%20_by_david_paul.html

1965 Programme of Concerts submitted to the Arts Council following their support of some of the concerts in the series. More on that later. One of the aims of this research was to make accessible information of the kind present here. There are some fascinating concerts, with lots of early music alongside new works. I would love to hear the Busoni (arranging Bach), Bach (arranged Goehr), Mozart, Holloway, Gibbons, Eisler concert. Fascinating.

I haven’t included the programme notes, and no author is given for most of these. A playlist of those works here that are also available on spotify can be found here: WCSS. It’s a collaborative playlist so if you find a work that I haven’t listed you can add it. You can also delete tracks and add new ones (perhaps you don’t like my choice of performers?). The recording of Birtwistle’s Tragoedia is by the Melos Ensemble with Lawrence Foster conducting.

(ACGB/51/265; see 1)

[5]

WARDOUR CASTLE SUMMER CONCERTS

President: MICHAEL TIPPETT

Director: HARRISON BIRTWISTLE

[7]

Sunday, 15 August at 8 p.m.

BETHANY BEARDSLEE, soprano

EMMANUEL HURWITZ, violin

STEPHEN PRUSLIN, pianoforte

I. Five Songs . . Schubert

Ganymed (Goethe)

Auflösung (Mayrhofer)

Nachtviolen (Mayrhofer)

Auf dem Wasser zu singen (Stoliberg)

An Sylvia (Shakespeare)

[…]

[8]

II. Chansons de Bilitis (Pierre Louys) . . Debussy

[…]

III. Sonata No. 13 in B-flat major for piano and violin, K. 454 . . Mozart

[…]

[9]

INTERVAL – 25 MINUTES

(During the interval you are invited to view the exhibition of painting and sculpture, which is in the centre of the castle. The bar is also open.

__________

IV. Two Songs . . Schoenberg

Ich darf nicht dankend (Stefan George)

In diesen Wintertagen (G. Henckel)

Three Songs, opus 25 (Hildegard Jone) . . Webern

Wie bin ich froh

Des Herzens Purpurvogel

Sterne, Ihr silbernen Bienen

[…]

[10]

V. Philomel for soprano, recorded soprano, and synthesized sound . . Milton Babbitt

[…]

[11]

Monday, 16 August at 8 p.m.

BETHANY BEARDSLEE, soprano

Melos Ensemble

EMANUEL HURWITZ, violin

CECIL ARONOWITZ, viola

TERENCE WEIL, cello

COLIN CHAMBERS, flute and piccolo

GERVASE DE PEYER, clarinet

ALAN HACKER, bass clarinet

ERIC ROSEBERRY, piano

EDWARD DOWNES, director

I. Trio No. 1 in B-flat major for pianoforte, violin, and violoncello, opus 99 . . Schubert

[…]

INTERVAL – 25 MINUTES

[…]

[12]

II. Pierrot Lunaire, opus 21 . . Schoenberg

[…]

[16]

Tuesday, 17 August at 5 p.m.

RECITAL

by LEONARD STEIN, piano

BAGATELLES . . Beethoven

THREE PIANO PIECES . . Alexander Goehr

PRELUDE FOR PIANO AND TAPE . . Subotnick

(short pause)

COCKTAIL MUSIC . . Salvatore Martirano

PIANO PIECES OP. 23 . . Schoenberg

[17]

Wednesday, 18 August at 8 p.m.

Melos Ensemble:

EMANUEL HURWITZ, violin

KAY HURWITZ, viola

LEONARD FRIEDMAN, violin

CECIL ARONOWITZ, viola

TERENCE WEIL, cello

WILLIAM BENNETT, flute

ALAN HACKER, bass clarinet

ERIC ROSENBERRY, piano

STEPHEN PRUSLIN, piano

BARBARA ELSY, Soprano

PAULINE STEVENS, contralto

IAN PARTRIDGE, tenor

GEOFFREY SHAW, bass

ALEXANDER GOEHR, director

I. Busoni – Canonic Variations and Fugue for pianoforte on the theme of King Frederick the Great from Bach’s Musical Offering.

followed by

II. Bach – Six Part Ricercar from the Musical Offering.

[…]

The six-part ricercar, which follows the Busoni work, will be performed in an instrumental arrangement by Alexander Goehr.

[18]

III. Mozart: Quartet for flute, violin, viola, and violoncello in D major, K. 285

[…]

IV. Cantata on texts by Edward Benlowes . . Robin Holloway

First performance written for Summer School

[…]

[19]

[…]

V. “Cryes of London” . . Orlando Gibbons

[…]

VI. “Fourteen Ways of Describing Rain” . . Hanns Eisler

[20]

Thursday, 19 August at 5 p.m.

BARBARA ELSY, Soprano

PAULINE STEVENS, contralto

IAN PARTRIDGE, tenor

GEOFFREY SHAW, bass

TRISTRAM FRY, percussion

AQUIL ALTERA . . Jacops [sic] da Bologna

IN TUA MEMONIA [sic]  . . Arnold de Nantins [sic Lantins]

WESTRON WYNDE . . Anon

_________

WESTERN WIND MASS . . John Tavener [sic]

[…]

Pause

VENI SANCTE SPIRITAS [sic] . . Robert Sherlan [sic] Johnson

(First performance written for Summer School)

LITTLE CANTATA OF PROVERBS (Blake) . . Alexander Goehr [John Alldis launched the John Alldis Choir with its premiere in 1962 1]

_________

SIBYLLA DELPHIA [sic]

LA NUIET [sic] FROIDE ET SOMBRE

FUYONS TOUS

BONJOUR MON COER

ICH WEISS MICH [sic] EIN MADLEIN [sic] . . Orlando di lassus [sic]

[21]

Friday, 20 August at 8 p.m.

EMANUEL HURWITZ, violin

LEONARD FRIEDMAN, violin

CECIL ARONOWITZ, viola

TERENCE WEIL, cello

WILLIAM BENNETT, flute

PETER GRAEME, oboe

WILLIAM WATERHOUSE, bassoon

NEIL SANDERS, horn

HILLARY WILSON, harp

BARBARA ELSY, soprano

PAULINE STEVENS, contralto

IAN PARTRIDGE, tenor

GEOFFREY SHAW, bass

MEMBERS OF THE SUMMER SCHOOL

LAWRENCE FOSTER, director

PETER MAXWELL DAVIES, director

I. Canon for Syntagma Musicum (1619) . . Michael Praetorius

[…]

_________

II. Dunstable:

voices and instruments: Sanctus and Agnus Dei

organ: Sub tuam protectionem

voices and instruments: Motet, “Veni Sancte Spiritus – Veni Creator”

[…]

[22]

III. (a) Plainsong, Gloria Tibi Trinitas

(b) Benedictus, from “Gloria Tibit Trinitas” Mass . . John Taverner

(c) In Nomine . . John Taverner

(d) In Nomine . . Thomas Tallis

(e) Gloria Tibi Trinitas . . John Blitheman

(f) Two “In Nomines” . . Peter Maxwell Davies

Commissioned by Melos Ensemble for Summer School

(g) Fantasia (In Nomine) . . Henry Purcell

[…]

The two new “In Nomines” use the plainsong, and the instrumental versions of the Tallis and Blitheman are by Maxwell Davies.

TRAGOEDIA . . Harrison Birtwistle

First performance, commissioned by the Melos Ensemble for the Summer School

[…]

[23]

INTERVAL – 25 MINUTES

[…]

V. Motet – Ecce Manus Tradentis . . Peter Maxwell Davies

[…]

[24]

Saturday, 21 August at 5 p.m.

RECITAL

ROGER SMALLEY, piano

BRIAN DENNIS, baritone

WILLIAM YORK, clarinet

JOHN WHITE, tenor horn

TWO PIECES from AMORES for prepared piano . . John Cage

LAST PIECES . . Morton Feldman

FEBRUARY PIECES I, II, III . . Cornelius Cardew

NEUMES RHYTHMIQUES

ILE DE FEU I . . Messiaen

_________

Pause

_________

PIANO PIECES . . Karlheinz Stockhausen

TWO POEMS of D. H. LAWRENCE

for baritone, clarinet, tenor horn, piano (1st performance) . . Roger Smalley

_________

These concerts are given with the support of the Arts Council of Great Britain

A letter from the WCSS treasurer, H. O. Young to the Arts Council clarified the programme with information about a participant’s concert:

The sixth concert was on Saturday and describted as the ‘Participants Concrt [sic]‘. It was made up of the following items:-

Bach    Double Concerto for 2 violins in D minor. Leonard Freedman and Emmanuel Hurwitz.

Bach    Cantata conducted by John Aldis and sung by participants.  Solo parts by Barbara Elsy, Pauline Stevens, Geffrey Shaw and Ian Partridge.

March ‘Verdi’ from Macbeth played by Participants and conducted by John Aldis.

The concert was well attended and included in the average attendances as stated. (ACGB/51/1265)

Jeg sad i går – i vores grønne sofa – og læste et længere essay af Sam Harris. Ham med “The End of Faith” og “Letter to a Christian Nation“. “The Strange Case of Francis Collins“, essayet, handler om udnævnelsen af den tidligere chef for genom-projektet, Francis Collins, til leder af det amerikanske National Institutes of Health — og om forholdet mellem videnskab og religion. Francis Collins er nemlig ikke blot en eminent videnskabsmand. Han er også evangelisk kristen.

Mere specifikt: Sam Harris’ essay handler om den tanke eller idé, at

1) når der findes videnskabsfolk, som opfatter sig selv som religiøse, så
2) behøver der ikke være nogen modstrid mellem videnskab og tro.

Men dét – dette argument – er forkert. Sam Harris skriver begavet: “The fact that certain people can reason poorly with a clear conscience—or can do so while saying that they have a clear conscience—proves absolutely nothing about the compatibility of specific ideas, goals, and modes of thought. It is possible to be wrong and to not know it (we call this “ignorance”). It is possible to be wrong and to know it, but to be reluctant to incur the social cost of admitting this publicly (we call this “hypocrisy”). And it may also be possible to be wrong, to dimly glimpse this fact, but to allow the fear of being wrong to increase one’s commitment to one’s erroneous beliefs (we call this “self-deception”). It seems clear that these frames of mind do an unusual amount of work in the service of religion.”

Undervejs i essayet kommer han også omkring Nobel-vinderen James Watson, med-opdageren af DNA — og han skriver: “It is worth recalling in this context that it is, in fact, possible for a brilliant scientist to destroy his career by saying something stupid.” James Watson, der på afgørende vis har bidraget til menneskehedens forståelse af livets mysterium, kom i seriøs miskredit, da han i et interview udtalte, at folk af afrikansk – sort – afstamning forekommer at være mindre intelligente end hvide. End of career.

Videnskabsmænd, der siger noget dumt, lider skade. Og vi siger jo allesammen dumme ting ind-i-mellem. Den eneste måde at undgå det på er ved helt at holde mund. Og hvis jeg må associere lidt: Sportfolk, som gør åndssvage ting – som f.eks. at tage doping – lider skade, ikke kun fysisk, men også med hensyn til agtelsen. Og jetset-dronninger, der tager kokain.

Men der er én gruppe – og det var dét, dette indlæg egentlig skulle have handlet om – som tilsyneladende altid går fri. Nemlig kunstnerne. Hvis en sportsmand eller – for eksempel – hende-dér-som-vi-ikke-må-nævne-navnet-på tager stoffer, farer vi op i moral. De er dårlige forbilleder for ungdommen … og så videre. Men KUNSTNERNE … alle de radmagre pop-sangerinder og de dér rockbands o.s.v. For slet ikke at tale om skuespillere. Eller forfattere.

Og de kan slippe afsted med at sige de mest syrede, utålelige ting. Eksemplerne er så mange, at jeg ikke engang orker at finde nogle citater. Der bliver måske grinet lidt af dem, selvfølgelig — men det er ikke the end of the world. For de er jo kunstnere. Ikke videnskabsfolk.

Men … Måske opfattes klassiske komponister som en slags videnskabsmænd, eller de – i det mindste – ryger i samme kasse. Ude i det offentlige. Eller måske var det blot fordi, situationen var så ualmindelig anspændt. Dengang. I hvert fald havnede Karlheinz Stockhausen i modvind, da han efter 9/11 VISTNOK kom til at sige, at angrebet var det – måske djævelens – største kunstværk nogensinde.

Her er hans “Helikopter Streich Quartett” fra operaen “Mittwoch aus Licht”:

The archived documents for the Arts Council of England’s annual report for 1965/66 includes a brief report from the SPNM accounting for its activities, which closes with the sentence:

‘In addition to these activities, a contribution of £250 was also made towards first performances of new works by young composers at the Wardour Castle Summer School of Music.’ (ACGB/51/265, ACGB/50/1310; see 1)

The Arts Council’s annual report included the following about the SPNM:

‘The Society for the Promotion of New Music continued to present concerts both in London and in provincial university towns. In collaboration with the music section of the Institute of Contemporary Arts, the S.P.N.M. presented a concert at the Summer School of Music held at Wardour Castle.’ (ACGB/51/265; see 1)

The Institute of Contemporary Arts’ (ICA) report to the Arts council did not include mention of the WCSS, preferring to report on it’s ‘main’ activity:

‘The main presentation by the Institute of Contemporary Arts Music Section last year was the London Days of Contemporary Musich [sic] which took place in London from the 2nd to the 5th December, 1965. This festival was based on the music of Karlheinz Stockhausen and opened at the I.C.A. Gallery with a General Forum with Karlheinz Stockhausen and Mr. Howard Hartog in the chair. On 3rd December, a chamber music concert was given by the Melos Ensemble under the direction of the young American conductor, Lawrence Foster [who was 24 at the time] and included works by Peter Maxwell Davies, Isang Yun, Harrison Birtwistle, Webern and Berg. [….]’ (ACGB/51/265; see 1))

There is clearly some difference here in the perceived prestige of the WCSS. For the SPNM it was an event of note, as it was for the Arts Council, whilst it isn’t mentioned by the ICA. A visit to the SPNM archives will be invaluable in clarifying this point.

Elsewhere in the Art Council archives is raised the question of the efficacy (or perhaps more accurately clarity) of SPNM giving money to the WCSS alongside a contribution from the Arts Council, creating what is in effect double support from the Arts Council (since the SPNM was Arts Council funded). Certainly the annual report emphasizes the ‘collaborative’ aspect of the SPNM’s support of the WCSS, and the way in which this strengthened its ties with the ICA. The extent of influence that these ties enabled is unclear. The Annual Report juxtaposed the SPNM’s support of the WCSS with the comment that:

‘The I.C.A. (music section) also mounted three concerts in London the third of which contained four works (by Gordon Crosse, Robert Sherlaw Johnson, Neville Gambier and Harrison Birtwistle) each of which has been specially written for the concert, during which it received its first performance’. (ACGB/51/265; see 1)

All this needs to be understood in the light of Alexander Goehr as chair of the SPNM in the years leading up to the WCSSs and the person requesting funding for the 1965 WCSS from the Arts Council.