Remember how much I love Steve Reich? Well don't tell, but I'm cheating on him...with John Adams. I've heard some (lay-)people accuse Adams of being "minimalism-lite".

So after I'm done chastising them for their ignorance, I'll retreat back to my lair and listen to several hours of John Adams. I'll read his autobiography for the fourth time, then watch a full length opera by him. Okay this is a little extreme, but I'd like to think that John Adams has been a vital and flexible pillar of the contemporary composition.

Why do I believe this? I didn't really realize it until I was watching a recent broadcast of his newer piece, City Noir premiered by the Los Angeles Philharmonic under Dudamel, where Adams is resident composer.

I am well aware of his experience in electronics and tape music, the little known repertoire that was written even before Phrygian Gates (which he considers to be his opus one, the first real and coherent of his works). One professor once told me about how she spent time in San Francisco at the conservatory and needed to make recordings; John Adams was her "recording engineer". A decade later she was in touch with him and reminisced about their time recording, and allegedly he said "I don't do that any more..." ...he had reached 'legitimacy'.

After our discussions about Glass and Reich in past classes, I had become paranoid that these most famous minimalists had "sold out" to the music scenes that never really seemed like they never fit into. Reich is now writing for Kronos (like his more programmatic and doesn't appear to endure the same processes as his previous works). Glass has written several film scores in recent years, that almost barely resemble his symphonies, operas or especially the earlier works (ex. pretty much anything written for the Philip Glass ensemble). Granted, we must take into account that commissions or genre (such as film) changes composition in many facets. John Adams has encountered similar criticism; even I noticed it in City Noir: it sounded kind of like glorified, post 2000 Gershwin. Not that I disliked this at all, I simply prefer the golden age of Adams...Nixon in China, Shaker Loops, Harmonielehre, etc.

At the end of the day, we all have to eat. I don't blame any of these compositional giants for taking the new and unique opportunities presented to them, as an opportunity to evolve compositionally and musically.

When comparing the differences between Reich, Glass and Adams, I feel it's fundamentally important, and also fundamentally ignored that Adams is not in the same generation as the former two. Reich and Glass were New Yorkers, conservatory trained, but seasoned city dwellers. Adams grew up in New England, attended Harvard, then lived the bohemian life in San Francisco. Adams is also over a decade younger than Reich and Glass, as if location and experience weren't enough! Comparing these three is like apples and oranges. I do agree with the more romantic aspects of Adams' music; but is it the programmatic aspects? instrumentation? Perhaps a combination of several factors. In the end, I feel as though I can connect emotionally more to John Adams' works (in most cases), which I try for in Glass' music, for example, but sometimes fail.

"I've got a secret"

I have a confession to make...
.........I love Steve Reich.

I love everything about Steve Reich. His music, his philosophy, his Judaism, his compositional evolution...I could go on and on.
When I started listening to minimalism back in high school, I did it mostly as a reaction towards my mother. She would complain about my lack of discipline while practicing piano and suggest that I listen to more Beethoven or Glenn Gould's Bach recordings (not to knock Gould, those recordings are masterpieces).
This only made me blast Music for 18 Musicians even louder. I explored Philip Glass, Terry Riley, John Adams...minimalism's greatest hits; but I always latched on to Steve.

For one reason, I believe it's because his process, which he discusses in depth in the article from Contemporary Composers on Contemporary Music. I was so sick of identifying the recapitulations, the 'secondary themes', the fugue subjects and countersubjects, etc, that this new means of unfolding musical form was fascinating.
In Reich, all the audible facets of music come together to aid in the process. The rhythm, harmony, instrumentation, melodies change gradually over time to make subtle changes and take what was once a small amount of material, spinning out into a larger canvas of musical form and ideas.

What I also wholly appreciate about Reich is his dedication to cultural ideas and allowing it to enhance his music. Many of my favorite works are those influenced by Judaism, for example the lesser known opera "The Cave", based on the Old Testament, as well as the even lesser known yet newer "Daniel Variations". Daniel Variations strike a particular chord, as they were written after the passing of journalist Daniel Pearl, who was executed in the Middle East by terrorists. Pearl was also Jewish, and the text of the piece is drawn from Pearl's own writing and songs, as well as excerpts from the Bible. Bringing intensely deep meaning to the music, beyond the fascinating analytical aspects, really makes the strongest connection for me as a listener.

As I thought about Reich tonight, I also thought of other artistic mediums in which Steve Reich and the types of minimalism he embraced might be influential or have influenced his work. Out of the blue, I thought of French impressionist Claude Monet and his "Water Lilies" works. Monet completed around 250 of these valuable and stunning works...Many of them are subtly different, but Monet manipulates light, color, perspective and an array of other perceptions to change a single subject matter into a prolific body of works. Monet uses a different process to take each painting by, and despite using the same materials, oil and canvas (just as a composer would use an ensemble, string quartet, orchestra over and over for different works), he manages to result in a new and innovative process each time.
In this respect, Reich does similar things with his composition: for example, he is often conservative with his harmonies and tonalities, just as Monet does not use radical colors or non-lifelike perspective in his paintings.

I cannot imagine Monet was criticized for being "repetitive" in his lifetime for creating so many works surrounding water lilies alone, yet minimalists have to bear this stigma often.
We can visually see that so many of Monet's works were strikingly different and each one beautiful in its own unique way, despite that they center around the same subject matter. (scroll down to the end of the Wiki article for an array of the paintings!)

Reich himself said the following, coincidentally surrounding French impressionism, but referencing music and composers:

"The point is, if you went to Paris and dug up Debussy and said, 'Excusez-moi Monsieur…are you an impressionist?' he'd probably say 'Merde!' and go back to sleep. That is a legitimate concern of musicologists, music historians, and journalists, and it's a convenient way of referring to me, Riley, Glass, La Monte Young[...] it's become the dominant style. But, anybody who's interested in French Impressionism is interested in how different Debussy and Ravel and Satie are—and ditto for what's called minimalism. [...] Basically, those kind of words are taken from painting and sculpture, and applied to musicians who composed at the same period as that painting and sculpture was made [...].

—From an Interview with Rebecca Y. Kim, 2000

Carving the path for minimalism, or maybe just a niche?

So I sat down over vacation to do the assigned listening pieces for the blog; I was shocked by the vocal pieces by Joan LaBarbera, the spoken "I am sitting in a room", and by most of the music in general. Then I reached James Tenney's Chromatic Canon...

Now let it be known that I love, love, love minimalist music. I may or may not be listening to Reich right now as I right this. And as soon as I heard Tenney's piece, my ears and brian instantly snapped into the mindset I enter when I listen to minimalist works. There was such an astounding difference to me between this piece and the others, but I couldn't quite pin the reason why, what or how this was different.

Was in the instrumentation? 2 pianos, acoustic. Well, of course this is certainly different than spoken word or voice, or the early tape music of Oliveros, etc. Yet even if Chromatic Canon had been performed on electric organ, for example, like is often utilized in Glass and Reich, I would still feel compelled to associate it with minimalism.

How about the form? Well Tenney's use of "process" as Gann discusses is what also made me think of minimalism in the first place; a small amount of material undergoing a process or journey in a very organic fashion. Tenney does not ensure or desire a "rhetorical process" in form (ex. Wow the recapituation should happen in about 10 measures, oh there it is! Silly Haydn).

So I went on a little James Tenney binge, reading about his work at Bell laboratories and his work with sound perception and how his works reflected it. I listened to For Ann (rising) about four times before my ears started to hurt, but I could even see the pre-minimalist influences here. Wanting the audience to perceive an overall arch and growth of line, yet also playing on the notion that we will adjust to and recognize the small shifts in the music as well; is an idea that I could see being applied to many of my favorite minimalist works.




It is important to keep in mind Tenney was working at the same time as minimalism's heroes, Philip Glass and Steve Reich (not to exclude all my other favorites), but Tenney remains largely in the shadow and probably really isn't considered minimalist in most circles. I don't think, however, it is a coincidence that Tenney was one of the four performers in Steve Reich's Pendulum Music in 1969.

I definitely see myself investigating a little more into James Tenney's works and compositional style. At one point Gann says of a piece circa 1990 that "Tenney gradually brings about evolutions of melodic contour and tonality within a generally postminimalist tonal language" (Gann, 169).

Whoa wait, when did we get to post minimalism? I'm going to leave that for the later blogs on minimalism :)

Not being particularly aware or familiar with this particular work of John Cage, HPSCHD was something I was able to bring a fairly fresh perspective and clean slate to while I read the article. I read and read and read until I was blue in the face, then I LISTENED to the piece. Oops.

I will first address one of the primary passages I noted in the article. Heimbecker states that "As a theater piece it did not tell the story of one "great hero", but created the space for a number of individual narratives not necessarily based on stable language connections, and not necessarily communicable(!)"

The general sentiment of the passage and its context appears to assert that many tend to place a narrative perspective on the piece, both due to it's political implications, as well as the space and time traits of it. Yet Cage insists that HPSCHD is an experiential learning and type of piece, in which listeners will discard predetermined notions and the audience may move freely. Cage also 'does away' with the traditional definition of "symbols" that we all yearn for, insisting that symbols are not filled with a deeper meaning, but works of art, such as his piece are simply "An action which is implicitly nothing."

Then I listened to it. And I can guarantee that listening to it this late at night was not a great idea. If music could be applicable to those "Well, you had to be there..." jokes, this is one of them. Johnny Cage, I had to be there.

I have been thinking long and hard about the assignment of creating a 'found' instrument. As the sole wind instrument player in my group, I feel obligated (but also fortunate!) with the task of incorperating some type of aerophone into our ensemble of recycled materials.

First I struggled: What can you hit or strike? Pretty much anything. But can you incorporate air into a lot of the same materials as well? Yes!
Surely blowing on a cinderblock won't achieve a certain and unique timbre, but I needed to find something new. I could have spent hours blowing atop all sorts of bottles, cans, but doesn't everyone do that?
As of yet, I'm still pursuing the instrument(s) that will work.
The toughest part on developing notation is that our instruments are not completely finalized, and therefore I have trouble settling on which type of notation I see fit. If the instrument is suited to a particular timbre, perhaps using color to notate it would be more accurate than using a shape! I would also like to experiment with the use of vocalization while writing. Whether it is droning (ex. represented by a stagnant thin line) or perhaps in a percussive manner (Written as a syllable and then altered to show its development).

Meanwhile, I took to heart the comment about Earle Brown's investigation as to what "classical musicians can't improvise", through the use of studying the "dynamic aesthetics" of Jackson Pollack and Alexander Calder. Naturally, I saw the connections in the improvisatory style of Pollack, but I knew it could be taken a step further. I wanted to pick one of my favorite artists and exploit and certain style that could influence notation and performance.
I picked Marc Chagall. I know and acknowledge he is widely viewed as an early modernist and known for his Jewish influence, but I appreciated most his use of different mediums. He was best known for his work with paintings, naturally, but has done a huge range of works on other materials such as tapestry, stained glass and ceramics.
The use of different materials can be used as inspiration as to different timbres or instrumentation. The art itself and influence the notation. There is also typically a common thread of religion that can be used or abandoned as the piece may see fit. For example, his ceramic piece "Moses" compared to the many church stained glass pieces he completed, as well as a plethora of Jewish-influenced paintings.
I don't know exactly what role this experimentation will play on my instruments and pieces, but the connection to art, even one that is not overtly modernist or indeterminate, I feel is important regardless.