top-quality music…canned as a commodity

regarding

Benjamin, Walter. The artist as producer. In Art after modernism: Rethinking representation. Ed. Brian Wallis. New York: New Museum of Contemporary Art, 1984.

  • 304. [Quotation from Hanns Eisler:] In the development of music, too, both in production and in reproduction, we must learn to perceive an ever-increasing process of rationalization…. The phonograph record, the sound film, jukeboxes can purvey top-quality music…canned as a commodity. The consequence of this process of rationalization is that musical reproduction is consigned to ever-diminishing, but also ever more highly qualified groups of specialists. The crisis of the commercial concert is the crisis of an antiquated form of production made obsolete by new technical inventions.

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to be entirely at home in something

regarding

Heidegger, Martin. The question concerning technology and other essays. Trans. William Levitt. New York: Harper Torchbooks, 1982.

  • 4. Technology is not equivalent to the essence of technology. When we are seeking the essence of “tree,” we have to become aware that that which pervades every tree, as tree, is not itself a tree that can be encountered among all the other trees.
    The essence of technology is by no means anything technological. Thus we shall never experience our relationship to the essence of technology so long as we merely conceive and push forward the technological, put up with it, or evade it. Every where, we remain unfree and chained to technology, whether we passionately affirm or deny it. But we are delivered over to it in the worst possible way when we regard it as something neutral; for this conception of it, to which today we particularly like to do homage, makes us utterly blind to the essence of technology.

  • 5. Technology itself is a contrivance, or, in Latin, an instrumentum.
    The current conception of technology, according to which it is a means and a human activity, can therefore be called the instrumental and anthropological definition of technology…. The instrumental definition of technology is indeed so uncannily correct that it even holds for modern technology, of which, in other respects, we maintain with some justification that it is, in contrast to the older handwork technology, something completely different and therefore new….
    But this much remains correct: modern technology too is a means to an end. That is why the instrumental conception of technology conditions every attempt to bring man into the right relation to technology. Everything depends on our manipulating technology in the proper manner as a means. We will, as we say, “get” technology “spiritually in hand.” We will master it. The will to mastery becomes all the more urgent the more technology threatens to slip from human control.
    But suppose now that technology were no mere means, how would it stand with the will to master it?

  • 12-3. We must observe two things with respect to the meaning of this word. One is that technē is the name not only for the activities and skills of the craftsman, but also for the arts of the mind and the fine arts. Technē belongs to bringing-forth, to poiēsis; it is something poietic.
    The other point … is even more important. From earliest times until Plato the word technē is linked with the word epistēme. Both words are names for knowing in the widest sense. They mean to be entirely at home in something, to understand and be expert in it. Such knowing provides an opening up. As an opening up it is a revealing.

  • 34. Once there was a time when the bringing-forth of the true into the beautiful was called technē. And the poiēsis of the fine arts was also called technē.

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a materialist account able to grasp the nature of sound

regarding

Cox, Christoph. Beyond Representation and Signification: Toward a
Sonic Materialism
Journal of Visual Culture 10(2):145-161. 2011 Aug.

  • 146. Rejecting realism, which would claim direct access to reality, contemporary cultural theory and criticism tends to maintain that experience is always mediated by the symbolic field. Indeed, these approaches often have a deep suspicion of the extra-symbolic, extra-textual, or extra-discursive, viewing such a domain as either inaccessible or non-existent.

    I’ve reflected this skepticism throughout these notes — in particular in reference to the experimentalists’ will to access the real by sidestepping the semiotic.

  • 147. Yet the price of this freedom has often been an epistemological and ontological insularity…. Contemporary cultural theory often falls prey to a provincial and chauvinistic anthropocentrism as well, for it treats human symbolic interaction as a unique and privileged endowment from which the rest of nature is excluded.

  • 147. Kim-Cohen attributes the absence of a rich theoretical discourse on sound art to the tendency of composers, such as John Cage and Pierre Schaeffer, and sound artists, such as Francisco López and Christina Kubisch, to treat sound as a material substance external to signification and discursivity. Committed to raising sound art discourse to the level of theoretical analyses of the visual arts and literature, Kim-Cohen sees no other way than to adopt the textualist paradigm of those fields.

    Yup. That pretty much sums up my approach too.

  • 147. [Kim-Cohen, regarding a hypothetical encounter with asemiotic sound]: It finds no voice in thought or discourse. Since there is nothing we can do with it, it seems wise to put it aside and concern ourselves with that of which we can speak.

    I’m reminded of my favorite parable on empiricism: a man, asked why he is looking for his keys under the lamp-post, confesses that he’s searching there not because he has any specific reason to believe they’re there but because the light is better there.

  • 148. The sonic arts, I suggest, require a different sort of theoretical analysis – not a theory particular to sound, but one capable of accounting for sound and the other arts. The materialist theory I propose here maintains that contemporary cultural theory’s critiques of representation and humanism are not thorough enough. A rigorous critique of representation would altogether eliminate the dual planes of culture/nature, human/non-human, sign/world, text/matter, not in the manner of Hegel, toward an idealism that would construe all of being as mental, but in the manner of Nietzsche and Deleuze, toward a thoroughgoing materialism that would construe human symbolic life as a specific instance of the transformative process to be found throughout the natural world – from the chemical reactions of inorganic matter to the rarefied domain of textual interpretation – a process Nietzsche called by various names, among them ‘becoming’, ‘interpretation’, and ‘will to power’.

  • 148. Leaving aside instances of musique concrète to which I will return later, musical tones and works are not signifiers, not media for the expression of a semantic content. They do not, for the most part, symbolize or stand for some other thing.

    Tones do not, but what of chords?

  • 148-9. However, the most significant sound art work of the past half-century … has explored the materiality of sound: its texture and temporal flow, its palpable effect on, and affection by the materials through and against which it is transmitted. What these works reveal, I think, is that the sonic arts are not more abstract than the visual but rather more concrete, and that they require not a formalist analysis but a materialist one.

  • 150. [Schopenhauer]: Music differs from all the other arts by the fact that it is not a copy of appearance, or, more exactly, of the will’s adequate objectivity, but is directly a copy of the will itself, and therefore expresses the metaphysical to everything physical in the world, the thing-in-itself to every appearance. Accordingly, we could just as well call the world embodied music as embodied will.

  • 150. Yet [Schopenhauer's] rejection of musical representation is not an assertion of musical autonomy but an argument for the groundedness of music in the patterns of becoming immanent to nature.

  • 151. [Nietzsche's] The Birth of Tragedy presents this opposition between the Apollonian and the Dionysian as isomorphic with Schopenhauer’s distinctions between representation and will, appearance and the thing-in-itself.

  • 151. [N]ature is extravagantly creative, endlessly generating an immense variety of inorganic and organic forms… – a vast proliferation of material difference. Yet we are likely to take Nietzsche’s rhapsodic celebration of nature’s creative powers as rhetorical, for we generally believe that art and creativity require conscious agency. Nietzsche’s assertion of the nature-as-artist, then, will be read as metaphorical at best and theological at worst, since ‘the creativity of nature’ seems to imply a divine creator.

  • 151-2. Nietzsche anticipates contemporary scientific and philosophical materialists … in rejecting hylomorphism, opting instead for a theory of self-organization. For Nietzsche, matter itself is creative and transformative without external agency, a ceaseless becoming and overcoming that temporarily congeals into forms and beings only to dissolve them back into the natural flux, an ‘eternal self-creating’ and ‘eternal self-destroying … monster of force, without beginning, without end’.

  • 152. For Nietzsche, ‘there is no “being” behind doing, effecting, becoming; the “doer” is only a fiction added to the deed – the deed is everything.

    Sounds like Saussure’s notion of difference with no positive terms.

  • 152. This emphasis on the constitutive nature of difference has allowed Deleuze to be linked with theorists of difference such as Saussure, Derrida, Lacan, Irigaray, and Levinas. Yet Deleuze’s differences are not linguistic, conceptual, or cultural in origin. Operating beneath the level of representation and signification, these differences subsist in nature itself.

  • 153. ‘This primordial phenomenon of Dionysian art is difficult to grasp’, writes Nietzsche, ‘and there is only one direct way to make it intelligible and grasp it immediately: through the wonderful significance of musical dissonance’ (p. 141). Music makes audible the dynamic, differential, discordant flux of becoming that precedes and exceeds empirical individuals and the principium individuationis.

    Does Nietzsche mean to argue that dissonance reveals difference somehow more essentially than harmony? Is there an essential difference between dissonance and consonance?

  • 153. For just as the virtual world of will to power or difference is manifested in actual entities, so too does the ‘inchoate’, ‘intangible’ world of music, for Nietzsche, ‘discharge itself in images’, ‘emit image sparks’, manifest itself ‘as a specific symbol or example’

    Seems to return to the image-centric view so effectively critiqued by W.J.T. Mitchell — the presumption that all sense data are imprinted in memory as images.

  • 154. Standardized and codified by the 16th century, the musical score is an exemplary instance of the reification characteristic of capitalism, in which processes are transformed into exchangeable, saleable products and objects.

  • 154. What began as a mnemonic aid for performance – the score – became an autonomous entity that governed performances and to which they were held accountable. This is precisely the Platonist move that both Nietzsche and Wittgenstein warn us against: the pre-post-erous inversion by which the concept ‘leaf’ becomes the cause of actual, particular leaves – or, in the musical case, an abstract, silent entity becomes the cause of actual sonic events.

  • 154. The invention of the phonograph challenged musical notation as a recording apparatus, replacing the mute, static score with a form of recording that restored the aurality and temporality of sound. It captured not an idealized visual representation but actual musical performances.

    Yes, but it must be noted that the iterable temporality of a recording is very different from the evanescent temporality of a live performance.

  • 154 [quotation from Kittler]: The phonograph does not hear as do ears that have been trained immediately to filter voices, words, and sounds out of noise; it registers acoustic events as such. Articulateness becomes a second-order exception in a spectrum of noise.

    Yes, it is an analog medium, but still selective, focusing on a narrowed bandwidth and within a tolerance of fidelity.

  • 154. Beyond music, audio recording opened up what John Cage (1961) termed ‘the entire field of sound’ (p. 4), leaving the rarefied world of pitch, interval, and meter for the infinitely broader world of frequency, vibration, and physical time (Kittler, 1999: 24).

    This is a useful contrast between the conventional reductions of notation and the physical essence of sound.

  • 154. Kittler on sound as a non-Lacanian real.
  • 154. Sound poetry, shift from “phonic to sonic”, and Saussure’s exclusion of the nonsemiotic in speech.
  • 154-5. More from Kittler on the non-Lacanian real of sound — ”the physiological accidents and stochastic order of bodies.” See also Nyman’s “people processes” as methods of indeterminacy.
  • 155. Cage collapsed the distinction between ‘silence’ and ‘noise’ – the dense virtual field that subtends all signal and meaning….

  • 155. Varèse’s conception of music anticipated electronic music, which, since its arrival in the 1950s, has worked with nothing but flows of electrons run through filters and modulators that contract, dilate, and otherwise transform them to produce a deeply physical and elemental form of music that belies the epithet ‘abstract’ often applied to it.

  • 155 [Quoting John Cage]: ‘Music is continuous; only listening is intermittent’

  • 155. Making no discrimination on the basis of the sources of these sounds (inorganic, biological, human, technological), Cage conceives this flux as a ceaseless production of heterogeneous sonic matter, the components of which move at different speeds and with different intensities, and involve complex relationships of simultaneity, interference, conflict, concord, and parallelism. This flux precedes and exceeds individual listeners and, indeed, composers, whom Cage came to conceive less as creators than as curators of this sonic flux. This Cagean conception of music and composition recalls Nietzsche’s notion of the creative powers of nature and of the artist as one who coalesces with this flux.

  • 155 [Quoting Deleuze]: A musician is someone who appropriates something from this flow.

  • 156. Philosophical accounts of perception, [Casey] O’Callaghan notes, have typically treated vision as the primary sense and objects of vision as paradigmatic objects of sensory perception. Visual experience encounters physical objects with attributes (or properties) such as color, shape, and size. From Descartes and Locke on, it has been customary to distinguish between primary and secondary qualities, the former (for example, size and shape) taken to be qualities objects have independent of observers, the latter (for example, color and taste) qualities that objects have only relative to observers and their perceptual capacities. Invisible, intangible, and ephemeral entities, sounds have little in common with ordinary visual objects and substances. Hence, philosophers have been inclined to regard them as secondary attributes of the objects we see: the sound of a bird, the sound of an air conditioner by analogy with the color of a door or the smell of a flower. On this view, then, sounds exist only relative to their apprehension and are, at least partially, products of our minds.

    Vision as paradigmatic of sensory perception generally — this links back to my critique above (the nod to Mitchell). The notion of sound as a secondary attribute akin to color comports with physics as well as Enlightenment philosophy — sound, like light, is radiant energy, not an object (at least according to Newtonian mechanics). Pitch is directly analogous to color, and in fact both are human perceptual takes on frequency of radiation.

  • 156. sounds appear to be much more akin to independently existing objects, since they survive changes to their qualities. A sound that begins as a low rumble may become a high-pitched whine, while remaining a single sound. In such an occurrence, the object that produces it (a car, for example) does not lose one sound and gain another. The sound remains what it is throughout, though its sensible qualities change.

    This seems quite mistaken to me. In what sense does the uninterruptible flux of sound comprise discrete sounds? How are the moment-to-moment evolutions of sound gathered into “a single sound”?

  • 156. Sounds have sources, of course; and these are often relatively durable objects. But we can experience a sound without experiencing its source, and the source without the sound. So while sources generate or cause sounds, sounds are not bound to their sources as properties.

    I think I agree with what Cox is trying to establish here (the phenomenal independence of sounds from physical objects), but this seems a weak argument for that point. I wouldn’t say that the source of a sound is an object, but rather the energy that vibrates that object.

  • 156. The sonorous object, Schaeffer insisted, is not the instrument that produces it, not the medium in or on which it exists, and not the mind of the listener. Sounds are ontological particulars and individuals rather than qualities of objects or subjects. And this is why works of musique concrète are not representations – of objects in the world or of worldly sounds – but presentations of sonorous objects.

    Yes, and you would think Cage would have some sympathy for that position, but he explicitly rejected the creation of objects in time, and Schaeffer’s effort to tie that to meanings, structures, narratives.

  • 156. If sounds are particulars or individuals, then, they are so not as static objects but as temporal events.

    See also my questioning the eventhood of sound in Nyman.

  • 157. sounds support an ontology of events, what Nietzsche calls ‘becomings’ and Deleuze ‘haecceities’. Indeed to begin with sound is to upset the ontology of ‘objects’ and ‘beings’, suggesting that the latter are themselves events and becomings that, however, operate at relatively slow speeds. The priority of sound and music in Nietzsche’s philosophy, then, is not an aesthetic choice but an ontological commitment: the commitment to the primacy of becoming, time, and change.

  • 157. If we proceed from sound, we will be less inclined to think in terms of representation and signification, and to draw distinctions between culture and nature, human and nonhuman, mind and matter, the symbolic and the real, the textual and the physical, the meaningful and the meaningless. Instead, we might begin to treat artistic productions not as complexes of signs or representations but complexes of forces materially inflected by other forces and force-complexes. We might ask of an image or a text not what it means or represents, but what it does, how it operates, what changes it effectuates.

    Interesting reversal of Derrida’s critique of phonocentrism. To cite Mitchell again, What does music want?

  • 157. thinking about sound in this way provokes us to conceive difference beyond the domain of ‘culture’, signification, and representation, and to see these as particular manifestations of a broader differential field: the field of nature and matter themselves.

    The difference in things in themselves? Difference in nature and matter would tend to fall across continua, whereas semiotic difference falls in categories, gradations. See Tan et al. on “categorical perception”.

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sound to significance

regarding

Tan, Sui-Lan, Peter Pfordresher, Rom Harré. Psychology of music: From sound to significance. Hove, Sussex, UK: Psychology Press, 2010.

listening

First cold rain of the season.
Tapping keys as I draft my bibliography exam.
Newly inducted feral kitten rattling his cage.
  • 97. here we consider why the listener may hear simplicity in the face of apparent complexity. A possible answer lies in the phenomenon of categorical perception, a tendency to treat a range of values along a physical continuum as if thy were the same until one reaches a point at which the percept abruptly changes. For example, one might present listeners with a series of speech soudns that gradually change from /p/ to /b/. Even thought the physical change is smooth and incremental, listeners commonly report hearing a sudden shift — or ‘boundary’ — at which the repeated presentations of /p/ ‘turn into’ /b/…. Does categorical perception help us hear rhythm regularity even when presented with variably timed performances?

    I think this phenomenon describes precisely one of the powerful effects of Steve Reich’s tape phase pieces — rhythms between the transients emerge gradually in the continuous phase drift, but are perceived to “lock in” at certain intervals.

  • 122. The emotional experiences that listening to melodies brings about are intimately connected with the way in which a sequence of notes fulfills or violates our expectations.

  • 123. Narmour’s realization-implication model:

    (a) Similarity (or process): From the sameness or similarity in successive musical events, a listener comes to form an expectation of more similarity, which can be expressed in the form of the hypothesis:
    A + A => A
    (b) Differentiation: Change in successive musical events leads to the expectation of more change, expressed as follows:
    A + B => C

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a music which would never give all of itself at once

regarding

Toop, David. Haunted weather: Music, silence and memory. London: Serpent’s Tail, 2004.

listening


  • 121. For [Christophe] Charles, the use of the word ‘deposition’ suggests a dethronement of authority, a power shift away from administration and control. There are random elements in the operations of the computer in processing these sounds sampled from life, processes that also depose some degree of the composer’s authority over his own work. I asked him if any of his would could be described as generative.

    ‘I have done some pieces’, he answered, ‘where the computer would choose the samples and the combinations of parameters of the filters attributed to these samples. For each sample played there would be a new combination of, for example, 16 parameters. In that sense there would be almost no repetition of a same combination: the computer chooses a value between 0 and 128 for each of the 16 parameters, which provides a rather large scale of variations.

    ‘But I understand “generative” not only as a music in which sound combinations would change constantly, but as a music which would never give all of itself at once; a music where it would be always possible to hear new things, even from the same recording which doesn’t change, a music which is impossible to remember completely. This kind of music is possible when its structure is complex enough, and in a way, unforeseeable. ‘

    …or, to keep within the auditory sensorium, let us say ‘unpredictable’. This gives me good grist for refining my definition of generative music. I’ve remarked elsewhere that complexity, inability to predict are factors in making music generative, but I hadn’t quite put together the impossibility of memory with the impossibility of prediction.

  • 180. The notion of music that can be generated by an instruction or set of rules is not particular to our time. Within their description of Vox Populi, an interactive evolutionary system for algorithmic music composition, four Brazilian researchers give the example of Guido d’Arezzo , an Italian monk who, in 1026, ‘resorted to using a number of simple rules to map liturgical texts in Gregorian chants due to the overwhelming number of orders he received for his compositions.

  • 182. [Yasunao Tone]: ‘I was not satisfied with recording,’ he told Alan Licht in The Wire, ‘because it presupposes to repeat the same sound over and over.’

  • 182. [Markus Popp]: ‘What I wanted to provide was to suggest some additional criteria so music has to be discussed in terms of user interface design, interactivity or on-screen editing,’ Popp told me in 2001 discussing his new software that allowed people to make their own Oval music, ‘and not so much discussed in terms of frequency or music as we know it. It’s not interesting at all for me to discuss music in terms of frequency. I see it as my obligation to provide mildly innovative multimedia authoring.’ In response to a query sent to Richard Ross, programmer for Markus Popp’s Oval Process my attempt to discover if this software could be described as a generative work, Ross e-mails me back his own question: ‘I was wondering what constituted generative music and were computers necessary?’ he writes from California. ‘I came to the conclusion that if you dispensed with computers as a component of it then things like wind chimes and Aeolian harps might arguably fall into that camp. Other possibilities might be Cage’s Imaginary Landscape No. 4 as a live performance. If generative music is music created on the fly, by some kind of rule based system, then these things follow very loose sorts of rules, but rules none the less.’

    Additional definition of generative music: created on the fly by some kind of rule based system.

  • 183. This raises some of the core issues challenged by twentieth-century music, and twentieth-century thought in general: the relationship of the composer to the audience, for example, or the use of chance and accident in the creation of music; the construction of feedback systems or self-generating and adaptive mechanisms that shape sound; the exertion or abdication of control of a musical result; the modeling of music based on ecosystems and similar complex environments and the setting in motion of events that question the definition of music as a cultural production distinguished from noise or unorganised sound by human agency and intentionality.

    “music as a cultural production distinguished from noise or unorganized sound by human agency and intentionality.” This contains the “straight” view of music against which all of experimental music strives. But is it a straw man? Does conventional music define itself by these same oppositions?

  • 183. ‘But the most conspicuous cultural use of generative systems has been in the field of music – which means that the word ‘generative’, when used in relation to sound, usually causes people to think of music. However, although some music drifted in, Sound Drifting was not about ‘music’ – nor was it conceived as a concert hall, showcase or gallery space for the works of individual artists. Sound Drifting was about networking, communication and collaboration; about control-sharing between artists, users and machines; about letting go of one’s own art and making ecological use of existing things; about listening to the world without adding to it; about the different concepts of duration and evolving processes at work in the material and immaterial realities of which we are part; about the aesthetics of different but connectable sounds, images, texts appearing on line – on air – on site as fugitive interfaces to a complex, invisible and not yet properly understood system of data processing.’

    The curators of this exhibit seem to stick with an opposition I have decided to abandon — that between sound and music — and one which I think John Cage effectively challenges.

  • 184. In March this year, Brian Eno gave a lecture at the ICA in London, linking his ideas on generative music with the model of John Conway’s Game Of Life. Conway, a Cambridge mathematician, invented Life as a cellular automaton, a game regulated by … logical rules…. [O]ut of a set of very basic conditions, or limitations, surprising events will emerge.
    A week after this lecture, … Brian Eno talks about connections between that proposition, developed from ideas investigated by mathematicians such as John Von Neumann and Stanislas Ulam, and the compositions that first sparked his own interest in generative music. ‘I think the Steve Reich pieces and Terry Riley’s In C,’ he says. ‘I would call those the predecessors of this. I would say anything where the composer doesn’t specify a thing from the top down. What I think is different about generative music is that instead of giving a set of detailed instructions about how to make something, what you do instead is give a set of conditions by which something will come into existence.’
    ‘I thought the economy of [the Steve Reich tape phase pieces] was so stunning,’ says Eno. ‘There’s so little there. The complexity of the piece appears from nowhere. You think, my God, it’s so elegant to make something like that. Of course, I was hearing this at the time when twenty-four-track recording had appeared and people were making huge, vast, heavy, soggy pieces of music with no economy whatsoever, Suddenly to hear this Steve Reich piece, which I thought was the most beautiful listening experience, and to realise that it was made from just a few molecules of sound. That really impressed me.’

    More definitions: “[A]anything where the composer doesn’t specify a thing from the top down.” “[I]nstead of giving a set of detailed instructions about how to make something, what you do instead is give a set of conditions by which something will come into existence.” The first is perhaps overly broad — it doesn’t get into the systems aspect, leaves open the inclusion of improvisation, and nearly all types of experimental music. The second gets more into the prevailing notion of suppressing intention and cybernetics and yielding instead to mere nature, creation, emergence. “[A] few molecules of sound” again suggests the organic.

  • 187. [Evan Parker]: I set up loops of stuff and then observe the loop and listen closely to the loop and say, ah, now I’ll emphasise that note, or now I’ll bring out that difference tone, or I’ll try and put something underneath it in relation to that or on top. Gradually the centre of attention in the loop shifts somewhere else. The loop is suddenly a different loop. It’s something that’s still bearing fruit for me. I’m not saying that’s exclusively the method I’m using in solo playing but it’s the core method.

    Endorses Pierre Schaeffer’s “making through listening” aesthetic. Also demonstrates how repeated listening changes the experience of the sound.

  • 190. [Brian Eno]: ‘I always wanted that kind of music – not only Discreet Music but the things that followed it like Music For Airports – to be endless pieces. I saw them more like paintings, just things that stayed in place, than compositions, things that had a structure to them. I was always looking for creating, not a recording of the results of the generative process, but creating a generative machine itself. ‘

    “Staying in place” vs. “having a structure”? He must mean a temporal structure, because certainly structure is often imputed in the visual arts. Is he looking for presence rather than representation?

  • 190. The desire to make a music that exists in a state of being, theoretically without beginning or end…. That dialectic, at the core of [Evan Parker's] music, contributes to the subjective impression in the listener that something is alive and growing, like a time-lapse photograph of plant growth….

  • 193. [David Dunn]: ‘The emergent complexity results from the dynamical attributes of cross-coupled chaotic states interacting in a multi-dimensional phase space. My role as composer/performer of this ‘chaos’ instrument is to explore various regions of these behaviours in a manner analogous to the exploration of a physical terrain. While I can influence the complex sonic behaviours, I cannot control them beyond a certain level of mere perturbation, the amount of which is constantly changing. The experience is often tantamount to surfing the edge of a tide of sound that has its own intrinsic momentum.’

    Influence, perturbation as composition/performance. This seems to support my notion of generative systems as allowing only partial interaction.

  • 193. ‘My fascination for these sounds has less to do with the underlying mathematics, or the current fashion of applying complexity science to music, than with the similarity these sounds have to natural sound environments where the same dynamical properties might be operating. These sounds excite me because they are so physically reminiscent of the global sound behaviours that emerge from natural habitats such as swamps, forests and oceans.’

    This complicates the art/life opposition I’m finding in a lot of discourse on experimental music, which seems to presume that if you remove art what you are left with is life, nature, presence. Here Dunn seems to instead view it as a scientific process of modeling nature to better understand it; a self-modifying feedback system that ultimately comes to incorporate him as perceiver/tweaker.

  • 193-4. ‘My main question on generative music is: can we trust machines to create for us?’ asks David Rothenberg, musician and author of Hand’s End: Technology And The Limits Of Nature. The life’s work of John Cage could be interpreted as that question almost in reverse: can we trust humans to create music?

  • 196. Issues of intentionality, linearity and the model of active composer and passive listener are being challenged by software and software users, yet held in place by the dominant carrier of music, the compact disc.

  • 197-8. [Roland Kayn] found his way slowly to a method of composing electronic music that was self-regulating, like any thermostatically controlled system, that avoided narrative elements, hierarchy, tension and release and emotional climaxes (all of which can be found to excess in much academic electro-acoustic music). Tektra, composed between 1980 and 82, radiates weird beauty, like a huge celestial choir with no more religious connotations than the weather, held in suspension with no compulsion towards release, no straining towards ecstasy. Enormous structural complexity is generated from within each section of the piece, yet nothing external disturbs their equilibrium. From this point of view, tehy fulfill Gregory Bateson’s concept of the plateau, described in Steps to An Ecology of Mind as a key to Balinese character and culture. Later developed into a central principle of Deleuze and Guattari’s A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia, the continuing plateau of intensity was described by Bateson in 1949 as a substitution for climax which applies as a generalisation to music, trance, quarreling and other forms of art and ethos.

    Interesting to see more slagging off of electro-acoustic music (which is always paired with “academic”). Once again music, once the drama and intention are swept away, is left as an analogue of the weather.

  • 198. Kayn wrote, ‘The music becomes autonomous once the composer has no control over the direction it takes once he has set it in motion. Music is sound which is sufficient in itself.’

    Kayn’s alternate definition of music in general seems coextensive with the definitions of generative music I’m favoring.

  • 200-1. For Markus Popp of Oval, one of the most important factors in this recent trajectory is the presentation of his Oval Process software, developed with Richard Ross, as an interactive installation object. ‘That is this tangible interface’, he says, speaking from his studio in Berlin, ‘declaring the interface public domain and just handing it over to the audience or whoever is present at the given time of the exhibition or wherever the unit is on display. This is one aspect of it, and the other aspect, which might even be considered the stronger statement is, of course, the available audio content which is on my CD, which is a quite vigourous statement against the typical productivity work flow in music.’

    He describes his most recent CDs – last year’s Ovalprocess and now Commers – as the tangible front end of an attempt to introduce an alternative rhetoric to the production of electronic music. At the same time, Oval Process is a statement to encourage non-expert audiences…. ‘It is immediately visible for the user whether it’s cool or crap’, he says. ‘I never considered this would be ground-breaking in the sense that it would hand over the interface, he continues. It’s just a simple gesture. It’s just the defining principle of something like an info terminal at the airport. You hand over the interface, otherwise the info terminal wouldn’t be useable. A very simple question: how would Oval be like an info terminal? I would happily take the risk of making Oval Process just this box.’

    Popp interprets the current situation in music as a moment for making statements that jump out of established historical frameworks. When people are confronted by music designed to grown and evolve beyond the composer’s intentions or even understanding , the old science fiction anxieties of humans enslaved by their machines still recur. ‘I understand that people are easily led when all they see is this designed object which provides the tangible means of approaching this type of Oval music in this very strict and impersonal way’, he says, ‘just being a sound installation that doesn’t require any assistance and is completely interactive.’

  • 226-7. [Björk]: It’s all about being in a little house, on your own. You’re creating a paradise with your laptop, or underneath your kitchen table where nobody knows about it. It’s survival in that sense. I can’t lie when I sing. With ProTools, it’s not like you’re lying but it’s easier to focus on what you want things to be. For me, ProTools is more connected with a fantasy and my voice more with reality. With the tools I can have everything I want and think of ridiculous things that don’t exist but with my voice I’m always gonna show what happened to me that day, that month, that year. I can’t hide anything and I actually quite like that.

    Naturalism, metaphysics of presence in the voice. But more interestingly, enhanced control as a means to fantasy.

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what also could music be?

regarding

Nyman, Michael. Experimental music: Cage and beyond. 2nd Edition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999.
[Originally published in 1974; republished with minimal edits but a new foreword by Brian Eno]

  • xi. from Brian Eno’s foreword: [Nyman's first edition] sought to identify and give coherence to a whole body of musical work that fell outside both the classical tradition and the avant-garde orthodoxies that had proceeded from it.
    Its appearance in 1974 consolidated a community of interests, a feeling that music should be something more than that which could be contained in concert halls or on records, that it must somehow extend itself into our lives.
    The body of work that resulted from this conviction was pursued vigorously in both England and America, and seemed to find a home for itself in the oddest of places. By and large, the music colleges were not at all interested, whereas the art colleges — with their interest in happenings, pop and performance — were soaking it up. Many of the most interesting experimental composers and performers in England — Cornelius Cardew, Gavin Bryars, Howard Skempton, John Tilbury and for a the Christian Wolff — earned a crust teaching art students.
    At the time — which was the mid- to late sixties — I attended an art college which was in the same building as a very large music college. I organized several ‘musical events’ during my time there, some of which included rather big names in the new music field. I recall only one music student attending, once. Whereas the avant-garde stuff — Stockhausen, Boulez, and the other serialist Europeans — could still be seen as a proper site for ‘real’ musical skills, and was therefore slowly being co-opted into the academy, the stuff that we were interested in was so explicitly anti-academic that it often even claimed to have been written for non-musicians. It made a point of being more concerned with how things were made — what processes had been employed to compose or perform them — than with what they finally sounded like.

    This passage clarifies for me the distinction I’ve often heard in passing between the experimental music tradition and the avant-garde. It seems to align with a distinction of discipline — visual art tradition vs. music tradition. (Of course, this doesn’t address the specificity of John Cage’s usage of “experimental” as a process with an unknown outcome.) It also helps to explain my perplexity at some of the work from the 3rd Practice electro-acoustic music festival — to its credit, it brought together music from both traditions, but I was not prepared for the disciplinarity of its classically informed music.

    I think I’ve also been perplexed at the emphasis on process as an end in itself. I confess it annoys me at times to find artists describe their process as if it were the work. But in fact it is the work, regardless of whether one chooses to foreground it as such.

  • xii. from Brian Eno’s foreword: It seemed to us … that we were interested in two extreme ends of the musical continuum. On the one hand, we applauded the idea of music as a highly physical, sensual entity — music free of narrative and literary structures, free to be pure sonic experience. On the other, we supported the idea of music as a highly intellectual, spiritual experience, effectively a place where we could exercise and test philosophical propositions or encapsulate intriguing game-like procedures. Both these edges had, of course, always been implicit in music, but experimental music really focused on them — often to the exclusion of everything that lay between, which was at that time almost all other music.

    Does “pure sonic experience” invoke a metaphysics of presence? Is asemiotic music possible?

  • xii. from Brian Eno’s foreword:So if this was ‘experimental music’, what was the experiment? Perhaps it was the continual re-asking of the question ‘what also could music be?’, the attempt to discover what makes us able to experience something as music. And from it, we concluded that music didn’t have to have rhythms, melodies, harmonies, structures, even notes, that it didn’t have to involve instruments, musicians, and special venues. It was accepted that music was not something intrinsic to certain arrangements of things — to certain ways of organizing sounds — but was actually a process of apprehending that we, as listeners, could choose to conduct. It moved the site of music from ‘out there’ to ‘in here’. If there is a lasting message from experimental music, it’s this: music is something your mind does.

    Apprehension as composition. Shifting the site from exteriority to interiority can be read as a liberatory deinstitutionalization, but also incurs a metaphysics of presence if it is thought to parallel a shift from the exteriority of signs to the interiority of nature.

  • xv. [M]y first chapter, ‘Towards (a definition of) experimental music’, is still, as far as I know, the most stringent attempt to classify experimental music and to distinguish it from the serialism-based opposition (and to find a locus which could contain the extremes of Cageian indeterminate open systems and the closed systems of minimalists).

    Opposition between the systems approaches of experimentalists and minimalists — openness.

  • 1. [Quotation from John Cage, 1955] Objections are sometimes made by composers to the use of the term experimental as descriptive of their works, for it is claimed that any experiments that are made precede the steps that are finally taken with determination, and that this determination is knowing, having, in fact, a particular, if unconventional, ordering of the elements used in view. These objections are clearly justifiable, but only where, as among contemporary evidences in serial music, it remains a question of making a thing upon which attention is focused. Where, on the other hand, attention moves towards the observation and audition of many things at once, including those that are environmental — it becomes, that is, inclusive rather than exclusive — no question of making, in the sense of forming understandable structures, can arise (one is a tourst), and here the word ‘experimental’ is apt, providing it is understood not as descriptive of an act the outcome of which is unknown.

    Here, as elsewhere, Cage seeks to distance his work from the notion of creating “objects in time”. Multiplicity of assemblage is invoked as an alternative and/or escape.

  • 1. [Quotation from John Cage, 1952] When a composer feels a responsibility to make, rather than accept, he eliminates from the area of possibility all those events that do not suggest this at that time vogue for profundity. For he takes himself seriously, wishes to be considered great, and he thereby diminishes his love and increases his fear and concern about what people will think. There are many serious problems confronting such an individual. He must do it better, more impressively, more beautifully, etc., than anybody else. And what, precisely does this, this beautiful profound object, this masterpiece, have to do with Life? it has this to do with Life: that it is separate from it. Now we see it and now we don’t. When we see it we feel better, and when we are away from it, we don’t feel so good.

    Here again, a preference for “Life”, as a transcendent self-presence, over art and sign-making.

  • 1. [Quotation from John Cage, 1952] For living takes place each instant and that instant is always changing. The wisest thing to do is to open one’s ears immediately and hear a sound suddenly before one’s thinking has a chance to turn it into something logical, abstract or symbolical.

    See also Husserl’s notion (via Derrida) of persistence as moment-to-moment repetition. Openness as asemiotic experience of sound.

  • 2n. [Quotation from Morton Feldman] What music rhapsodizes in today’s ‘cool’ language is its own construction. The fact that men like Boulez and Cage represent opposite extremes of modern methodology is not what is interesting. What is interesting is their similarity. In the music of both men, what is heard is indistinguishable from its process. In fact, process itself might be called the Zeitgest of our age.

    See also Derrida: “Speech is the representation of itself.”

  • 2. Nothing is based on the “masterpiece”, on the losed cycle, on passive contemplation, on purely aesthetic enjoyment. Music is a way of being in the world, becomes an integral part of existence, is inseparably connected with it; it is an ethical category, no longer merely an aesthetic one. Boulez was in fact comparing non-wester ethnic traditions to the western art music tradition, but his statement nonetheless expresses the position of experimental music very clearly.

    By this orientalist sleight of hand Nyman substitutes experimental music for non-western musics, putting his “opponent”‘s words back into his mouth with different meanings attached.

  • 3. As notation, then, 4’33″ presents, is early evidence of the radical shift in the methods and functions of notation that experimental music has brought about. A score may no longer ‘represent’ sounds by means of the specialized symbols we call musical notation, symbols which are read by the performer who does his best to ‘reproduce’ as accurately as possible the sounds the composer initially ‘heard’ and then stored. Edgard Varèse once drew attention to some of the disadvantages of the mechanics of traditional notation: with music ‘played by a human being you have to impose a musical though through notation, then, usually much later, the player has to prepare himself in various ways to produce what will — one hopes — emerge as that sound.’”

  • 4. Experimental composers are not concerned with prescribing a defined time-object whose materials, structuring and relationships are calculated and arranged in advance, but are more excited by the prospect of outlining a situation in which sounds may occur, a process of generating action (sounding or otherwise), a field delineated by certain compositional ‘rules’.

  • 4-5. [George Brecht on "The Irrelevant Process"]: In general, bias in the selection of elements for a chance-image can be avoided by using a method of selection of those elements which is independent of the characteristics of interest in the elements themselves. The method should preferably give an irregular and unforeseen pattern of selection.

    Brecht uses very precise and specifically scientistic language here to characterize his opening to indeterminacy.

  • 6-8.Enumeration of types of experimental process:
    • Chance determination processes

      E.g. using the I Ching, star maps, dice, random number tables, etc., to determine the articulation of material.

    • People processes

      Using uncontrolled variances in perception and performance to introduce musical variance.

    • Contextual processes

      Actions dependent on unpredictable conditions and on variables which arise from within the musical continuity.

    • Repetition processes

      Extended repetition as the sole means of generative movement

    • Electronic processes

    “People processes” might be broadened to animal processes — it seems that its chief factors are imperfection and free agency. “Electronic processes” doesn’t seem to me to be parallel with these others, for reasons I’m having some difficulty articulating. Perhaps it is that electronics can be approached in myriad ways — like any instrument — and are therefore not bound to process per se. Or perhaps that so many different processes can be facilitated by electronics that it hardly makes sense to treat them as a single category.

  • 9. The experimental composer is interested not in the uniqueness of permanence but in the uniqueness of the moment.

    See Derrida in Speech and Phenomena — the sign is never an event.

  • 9. By contrast the avant-garde composer wants to freeze the moment, to make its uniqueness un-natural, a jealously guarded possession. Thus Stockhausen (1956): A sound which results from a certain mode of structure has no relevance outside the particular composition for which it is intended.

  • 9. The identity of a composition is of paramount importance to Boulez and Stockhausen, as to all composers of the post-Renaissance tradition. But identity takes on a very different significance for the more open experimental work, where indeterminacy in performance guarantees that two versions of the same piece will have virtually no perceptible musical ‘facts’ in common.

  • 10. [In pieces with graphic scores and alternate notation systems] the (non-musical) graphic symbols it contains have no meanings attached to them but ‘are to be interpreted in the context of their role in the whole’…. Each performer is invited by the absence of rules to make personal correlations of sight to sound.

    A ‘personal correlation’ again attempts to render each interpretation an event rather than a sign.

  • 10. [Quotation from Cage]: A performance of a composition which is indeterminate of its performance is necessarily unique. it cannot be repeated…. Noting therefore is accomplished by such a performance, since that performance cannot be grasped as an object in time.

  • 10. [Quotation from Cage regarding recordings of indeterminate performances]: it has no more value than a postcard; it provides a knowledge fo something that happened, whereas the action was a non-knowledge of something that had not yet happened.

  • 10. Cardew is concerned about the practical problem of reproducing improvisation where documents such as tape recordings are essentially empty; they preserve chiefly the form that something took, give at best an indistinct hint as to the feeling, and canot of course convey any sense of time and place. From his experience with AMM he found that it is impossible to record with any fidelity a kind of music that is actually derived from the room in which it is taking place — its size, shape, acoustical properties, even the view from the window, since what a recording produces is a separate phenomenon, something really much stranger than the playing itself.

  • 12. score for Steve Reich’s Pendulum Music

  • 14. Experimental music thus engages the performer at many stages before, above and beyond those at which he is active in some forms of western music. It involves his intelligence, his initiative, his opinions and prejudices, his experience, his taste and his sensibility in a way that no other form of music does, and his contribution to the musical collaboration which the composer initiates is obviously indispensable. For while it may be possible to view some experimental scores only as concepts, they are, self-evidently (specific or general), directives for (specific or general) action. Experimental music has, for the performer, effected the reverse of Duchamp’s revolution in the arts. Duchamp once said that ‘the points was to forget with my hand…I wanted to put painting once again at the service of my mind.’

  • 14. The freedom of action that experimental scores give may be to some extent an illusion.

  • 15. People tend to think that since, within the limits set by the composer, anything may happen, the resulting music will therefore be unconsidered, haphazard or careless. The attitude that experimental music breeds amongst its best performers/composers/listeners is not what Cage called ‘carelessness as to the result’ but involvement and responsibility of a kind rarely encountered in other music.

  • 17. But, [Cardew] says, it must be remembered that although uniformity is demanded (‘as far as possible’), what is desired is variation. ‘It is simply this: the variation that is desired is that which results from the human (not superhuman) attempt at uniformity.’

    See above regarding Nyman’s “people procedures”.

  • 17. Similarly chance procedures have so strong an ethical value for Cage that they are seen not simply as generators (or disorganizers) of sounds, but as quasi-natural forces whose results are accepted totally and unquestioningly, without any adjustment being made.

    I’m intrigued by this usage “generators (or disorganizers)”. Is the “or” here serving to establish an equivalence between generating and disorganizing? Do Cage’s chance procedures really serve to disorganize sounds? Organization is commonly understood to refer to a human process of constructing a more or less ideal rational order. Might Cage’s procedures be better regarded as sidestepping the classical imperative for organization rather than actively disorganizing an organized set?

  • 18. [Quotation from Morse Peckham]: Playing a game involves continuous risk-running. The rules place limits on what may be done, but more importantly, they provide guides to improvisation and innovation. Behaviour is aimed at following rules in predictable situations and interpreting rules in unpredicted ones. Hence, an important ingredient of game playing consists of arguments about how the rules should be interpreted.

  • 18. [Quotation from Morse Peckham]: I think composition is a serious occupation and the onus is on the performer to show the composer some of the implications and consequences of what he has written, even if from time to time it may make him (the composer of course) look ridiculous. What he writes and what you read are two different things.

  • 19-20. Observation as performance.

  • 20. [T]he use of a musical instrument need not be limited by the boundaries erected by tradition. Experimental music exploits an instrument not simply as a menas of making sounds in the accepted fashion, but as a total configuration — the difference between “playing the piano” and the “piano as sound source.”

    This ethic/aesthetic seems to have carried into noise music and its focus on circuit-bending, which treats not only instruments, but all manner of devices as sound sources outside their intended use.

  • 21. Cage: Let the music refer to what is to be done, not … what is to be heard.

  • 22. [I]n experimental music sounds no longer have a preemptive priority. Seeing and hearing no longer need to be considered separately.

  • 22. The third component of Cage’s compositional ‘trinity’, listening, implies the presence of someone involved in seeing and hearing…. [E]xperimental music emphasizes an unprecedented fluidity of composer/performer/listener roles, as it breaks away from the standard sender/carrier/receiver information structure of other forms of Western music.

  • 23. In experimental music the perceiver’s role is more and more appropriated by the performer.

  • 23. For Cage at least experimental music is not concerned with ‘communication.’ He once said: ‘We are naïve enough to believe that words are the most efficient form of communication.’ On another occasion he is reported to have said: ‘Distinguish between that “old” music you speak of which has to do with conceptions and their communication, and this new music, which has to do with perception and the arousing of it in us.

  • 23. A task may have a far greater value for the performer than it has for the audience. Certain tasks may seem hermetically sealed to the listener, self evident games whose rules are not publicly available, mysterious rites with professionally guarded secrets. For the performer the tasks may be self-absorbing, or of only private significance, so that the question of ‘projection’ is not part of his concern.

  • 23. The tasks of experimental music do not generally depend on, and are not markedly changed by, any response from an audience, although the atmosphere in which these tasks are accomplished may be completely changed by audience response.

    It seems in this regard consistent with the classical tradition. Does Nyman intend to suggest a distinction here?

  • 24. [T]he listener, too, has a far more creative and productive role than he had before. This follows from Cage’s rejection of the notion of entertainment as ‘being done to’:
    Most people think that when they hear a piece of music, they’re not doing anything but that something is being done to them. Now this is not true, and we must arrange our music, we must arrange our art, we must arrange everything, I believe, so that people realize that they themselves are doing it, and not that something is being done to them.

  • 24. Cowell had been unable to adjust his ears (and his mind) to the actuality of the new music [in Cage's Imaginary Landscapes], which is not a music of results. Nor is the need to be ‘interesting ‘ a concern of experimental composers — as it is of the avant-garde. Cowell did add: ‘Cage’s own attitude about this was one of comparative indifference, since he believes the concept to be more interesting than the result of any single performance’ — though he seems to have failed to appreciate the implications of this remark.

  • 25. Cage … is ‘averse to all those actions that lead toward placing emphasis on the things that happen in the course of a process’.

  • 25. Cage’s crucial decentralization of musical and physical space brings music more into line with painting: ‘Observe that the enjoyment of a modern painting carries one’s attention not to a centre of interest but all over the canvas and not following any particular path….’ So that if the listener does not have anything done to him, since the composer has not arranged things so that everything is done for him, the responsibility for how he hears or sees is placed firmly on the functioning of his own perception.

  • 25. The listener may supply his own meanings if that is what he wants; or he may leave himself open to taking in any eventuality, bearing in mind George Brecht’s proviso that any ‘act of imagination or perception is in itself an arrangement, so there is no avoiding anyone making arrangements’. Since the listener may not be provided with the structural signposts (of various shapes and sizes, pointing in various directions) that he is given in other music, everyone has, according to Cage, the opportunity of ‘structuring the experience differently from anybody else’s in the audience. So the less we structure the occasion and the more it is like unstructured daily life, the greater will be the stimulus to the structuring faculty of each person in the audience. “If we have done nothing then he will have everything to do.”‘

    This crucial passage addresses a major element of my interest in experimental music as a forerunner to generative music. Perception is arrangement => listening is composition. It also contains one of the more interesting problems — the presumption that if we sidestep art we are left with life.

  • 26. Cage … proposed that what we have been in the habit of calling silence should be called what in reality it is, non-intentional sounds — that is, sounds not intended or prescribed by the composer.
    4’33″ is a demonstration of the non-existence of silence, of the permanent presence of sounds around us, of the fact that they are worthy of attention, and that for Cage ‘environmental sounds and noises are more useful aesthetically than the sounds produced by the world’s musical cultures’.

    Silence = non-intentional sound. It shares this designation with noise.

  • 26. 4’33″ is not a negation of music but an affirmation of its omnipresence. Henceforward sounds (‘for music, like silence, does not exist’) would get closer to introducing us to Life, rather than Art, which is something separate from Life.

  • 26. This explains Cage’s attachment to an art which ‘imitates nature in its manner of operation’, that is the spontaneous — natura naturans, rather than the classified — natura naturata, and it accounts for the emphasis in experimental music on operational processes, which ensure a music that appears to happen of its own accord, unassisted by a master hand, as if thrown up by natural forces.

    These Latin terms come from Spinoza — nature natured suggests a passive god, while nature naturing suggests an active one. Perhaps by this Nyman means to emphasize the dynamic quality of nature over its fixity.

  • 26. Consistent with these is Morse Peckham’s statement: A work of art is any perceptual field which an individual uses as an occasion for performing the role of art perceiver.

  • 27. [Quotation from Stockhausen, 1958]: if [as in total serialism] from one sound to the next, pitch, duration, timbre, and intensity change, then the music finally becomes static.

    I once made a similar observation about more cerebral forms of jazz: when every chord is a 13th, the sense of tonal movement is lost.

  • 27. [Quotation from Christian Wolff, same year]: It is not a question of getting anywhere, of making progress, or having come from anywhere in particular, of tradition or futurism. There si neither nostalgia nor anticipation.

  • 27. But what were Stockhausen’s reasons for bending the rules without contradicting the authority of the Idea…? In order to restore his mastery over his sounds, he had to resort to other means of ordering them, of shaping their movement and identity.

  • 27. The classical system, and its contemporary continuation … is essentially a system of priorities which sets up ordered relationships between its components, and where one thing is defined in terms of its opposite. In this world of relationships dualism plays a large part….

  • 28. With the expansion of tonality in the early part of this century music lost the possibility of this clear-cut type of musical functionalism, but the need for something arranged and heard in the context of , or in apposition to, something else, still remained. Stockhausen’s use of space was a way for him to package his sounds, to shape the sound mass, to set one thing in a calculated relationship to another.

  • 29. [Cage]: I would assume that relations would exist between sounds as they would exist between people and that these relationships are more complex than any I would be able to prescribe. So by simply dropping that responsibility of making relationships I don’t lose the relationship. I keep the situation in what you might call a natural complexity that can be observed in one way or another.

  • 29. [Stockhausen]: So many composers think that you can take any sound and use it. That’s true insofar as you really can take it and integrate it and ultimately create some kind of harmony and balance. Otherwise it atomizes…. You can include many different forces in a piece, but when they start destroying each other and there’s no harmony established between the different forces, then you’ve failed.

  • 29. (Note the key European avant-garde words, ‘integrate’, ‘harmony’, ‘balance’, which show that the responsibility for making relationships is in the hands of the composer, whereas Cage is far more willing to allow relationships to develop naturally.)

  • 29. [In experimental music] Rise and fall, loud and soft, may occur but they occur spontaneously, so that the old (and new) ‘music of climax’ is no longer the prevailing model.

  • 30. One of the automatic consequences, so it appears, of the musical processes employed by experimental composers, is the effect of flattening out, de-focusing the musical perspective.

  • 30. Form thus becomes an assemblage, growth an accumulation of things that have piled-up in the time-space of the piece. (Non- or omnidirectional) succession is the ruling procedure as against the (directional) progression of other forms of post-Renaissance art music.

  • 30. [Wolff, 1958]: What is, or seems to be, new in this music? One finds a concern for a kind of objectivity, almost anonymity — sound come into its own. The ‘music’ is a resultant existing simply in the sounds we hear, given no impulse by expression of self or personality. It is indifferent in motive, originating in no psychology nor in dramatic intentions, nor in literary or pictorial purposes. For at least some of these composers, then the final intention is to be free of artistry and taste. But this need not make their work ‘abstract’, for nothing, in the end, is denied.

  • 31. [Cage]: I rather think that influence doesn’t go A B C … but rather that we live in a field situation in which by our actions, by what we do, we are able to see what other people do in a different light than we do without our having done anything. What I mean to say is that the music we are writing now influences the way in which we hear and appreciate the music of Ives more than that the music of Ives influences us to do what we do.

  • 31-2. As the power of tonality as an organizing agent gradually weakened more an more, int early part of the twentieth century other organizing methods were evolved, of which the most important was the serialism of Schoenberg, Berg, and Webern. But for Cage serialism was not the answer since it ‘provided no structural means, only a method … the nonstructural character of which forces its composer and his followers continually to make negative steps. He has always to avoid those combinations of sound that would refer banally to harmony and tonality.

  • 32. Of the four determinants of a sound (pitch, timbre, loudness and duration) it is only duration that is common to both sound and silence. This is what led Cage to declare: ‘Therefore a structure based on durations (rhythmic: phrase, time lengths) is correct (corresponds with the nature of the material), whereas harmonic structure is incorrect (derived from pitch, which has no being in silence).’

    This remarkable passage is riddled with problems:

    1. These are indeed the four classical determinants of (musical) sound, but since experimental music had already transcended them and placed them under erasure, they seem a poor footing for a theory of what is “correct” in music. In particular:
      • Cage had already put away pitch as a determinant, showing a predilection for percussion instruments, which are not classically regarded as being pitched (because in fact they resonate with many frequencies).
      • Silence does partake in loudness — it just happens to exhibit the special-case loudness of zero.
      • Even this last doesn’t go far enough because Cage himself demonstrated silence doesn’t exist, or in any case “silence” has a nontrivial loudness, nonempty timbre, and nonabsent pitch as well as nonzero duration.
      • “Silence” is utterly lousy with noise. Pitch is a specious narrowing of the frequency spectrum. Noise is full of myriad frequencies, and therefore innumerable pitches.
      • Pitch is based on duration just as much as is rhythm (i.e. the duration between the passage of wavefronts across the tympanic membrane), only on a micro scale not discernible by humans.
    2. “Correspond[ence] with the nature of the material” seems a rather arbitrary basis for correctness (or even interest). It is also patently metaphysical, though that is neither here nor there. It seems aligned with Clement Greenberg’s notion of medium specificity. But ultimately this is circular reasoning — natural, therefore correct…?
    3. Since when is Cage interested in being correct? I thought he was about multiplicity and non-ideation…?
  • 32. Cage showed that his interest lay not in rhythms (individual rhythmic patterns) but in rhythm as structure, the ‘division of actual time by conventional metrical means, meter taken as simply the measurement of quantity’. For Cage, a rhythmic structure was ‘as hospitable to non-musical sounds, noises, as it was to those of conventional scales and instruments. For nothing about the structure was determined by the materials which were to occur in it; it was conceived, in fact, so that it could be as well expressed by the absence of these materials as by their presence.’
    This was an astonishing concept, for it demolishes at a single stroke the accepted notions of form and content in music. Hegel wrote: ‘in formal logic the movement of thought seems to be something separate, which has nothing to do with the object being thought.’ In Dialectical Materialism Henri Lefebvre commented on Hegels’s proposition: ‘If this independence of content and form were attained it would either forbid the form being applied to any particular content, or else allow it to be applied to any content whatsoever, even an irrational one.’ This is precisely what Cage is implying in his statement about rhythmic structure, and it is a concept which is totally unacceptable in traditional music where form must be, at all costs, ‘organic’.

    I’ve often thought that this gesture of unbundling is the main thrust of Western industrial culture: writing unbundles speech from the speaker; capital unbundles value from goods; manufacturing unbundles design from craft; transportation unbundles subjects from clans; logic unbundles reason from truth; and ultimately digitality unbundles form from content, perception from sensory organs, presence from space and time, etc…. As Lefebvre observes, these successes are as much mythical as real, and their side-effects are costly. It’s interesting, though, in such a short span, to see Cage represented as invoking nature as an anchor point of correct behavior, and yet also invoking this analytic principle against organicism.

  • 32. [Cage] was advocating that music should no longer be conceived of as rational discourse, concerned with manipulating sounds into musical shapes or artifacts (motives, melodies, twelve-tone rows) as though they were parts of a discursive language of argument.
    Traditional European music is based on this kind of manipulation: this is the ‘logic’ behind the growth and development of, say, a sonata form first subject and explains why composers can talk of musical ideas.

    Interesting in contrast with Chomskyan music theorists who ask whether music is in fact a language.

  • 33. since time is the only parameter common to dance and music, a single rhythmic structure could be used for both; this freed the choreography ‘from the necessity to interpret music on the level of feeling’.

  • 35. [In Satie's music] Chords, tunes, succeed each other, the do not progress; and, on the larger scale, tonality is not used as a dynamic organizing force — it does not propel the music forward from one point to another; a second phrase does not ‘depend’ on what preceded it and ‘imply’ a continuation, as it normally does in tonal music even in brief lyric forms. Instead one finds jump-cuts, anti-variation, non-development, directionless repetition, absence of contextual relationships, logic, transitions.

  • 35-6. In advising Debussy to steer clear of the overpoweringly unhealthy influence of Wagner, Satie said some very pertinent things about the nonsense of dramatic symbolism, which for Wagner meant that sounds were not used for their own sake fut for their ability — real or imagined — to duplicate, conjure up, imply or express something outside of the sounds themselves.

  • 36. If there is symbolism in Cage then it is of a decidedly non-dualistic kind: ‘I don’t like it when…a particular thing in the world is a symbol of a particular other thing. But if each thing in the world can be seen as a symbol of every other thing in the world, then I do like it.

    Interesting to see semiosis generally deferred as a kind of dualism. I wonder how Cage might respond to the notion from C.S. Peirce’s semiology or Derrida’s differance that each signifier defers meaning to another signifier, so that what we have is not dualistic pairs but endless play of signification.

  • 36. [Satie on "Furniture Music"] We urgently beg you not to attach any importance to it and to act during the intermission as if the music did not exist. [Furniture music] hopes to contribute to life the way a casual conversation does, or a picture in the gallery, or a chair in which one is not seated… We want to establish a music designed to satisfy ‘useful’ needs. Art has no part in such needs.

    Sounds remarkably like Eno’s commentary on Music for Airports.

  • 36. This is in sympathy with a number of conditions of experimental music — with Cage’s ideal of a music which attempts to remove the distinctions between life and art (‘Art’s obscured the difference between art and life. Now let life obscure the difference between life and art’)….

  • 37. a useful way of illustrating the technical and conceptual differences between the experimental and the avant-garde is to examine briefly their different reactions to the music of Webern in the early fifties — they might have been talking about two different composers.

  • 38. [Wolff]: There is rather an inevitable natural complexity in things (cf. the structure of a tree); and it cannot finally be precisely indicated or controlled or isolated. To insist on determining it totally is to make a dead object.

  • 38. [Schoenerg, 1949]: [an instrument's colors have] meaning only when they make the idea clear — the motivic and thematic idea, and eventually its expression and character’

  • 38-9. Sonic palette broadened by Debussy & Ravel’s exposure to Balinese music at 1889 Paris Exhibition, consideration of scales beyond the Western 12 tones.

  • 41. [Schoenberg]: To be musical means to have an ear in the musical sense, not in the natural sense. A musical ear must have assimilated the tempered scale. And a singer who produces natural pitches is unmusical, just as someone who acts “natural” on the street may be immoral.

    Schoenberg defines music by opposition to nature.

  • 42. To Russolo, however, all musical sounds had become too familiar and had lost their power to surprise.

  • 43. [Varèse's] real importance lies in dealing with sound directly, as a raw phenomenon, with a meticulous attention to spacing, sonority and a precisely calculated feeling for timbre and intensity; timbre is no longer ‘incidental, anecdotal, sensual or picturesque’ but becomes ‘an agent of delineation’.

  • 48. [Pierre Schaeffer] began to evolve a curiously backward-looking technique and aesthetic, being unable or unwilling to discover a method which would be ‘hospitable’ to these new sounds as Cage did in the thirties. So one finds fugues and inventions and waltzes as methods or organizing sounds which are typically not used for their own sake but for their dramatic, anecdotal or associative content.

  • 48. For the Germans on the other hand electronics were a menas of achieving perfection: given a ‘perfect’ theory (total serialism) and perfect sound material (the clean, unsullied sine tones) a perfect music, so they thought, would be born. This was not to be, and very soon impurities … were introduced.

  • 48. Cage’s first electronic, or rather tape, piece, Williams Mix of 1952, cut through the concrete/electronic distinction — a distinction which hinged on sound origins and technical methods — by building up a vast library of sounds and using chance techniques to dictate how the tape should be cut, spliced together and combined.

  • 49. “experimental” not defined by newness or strangeness.

  • 50. [Cage, 1955]: A sound does not view itself as thought, as ought, as needing another sound for its elucidation, as etc.; it has no time for any consideration — it is occupied with the performance of its characteristics: before it has died away it must have made perfectly exact its frequency, its loudness, is length, its overtone structure, its e precise morphology of these and of itself.

  • 50. [Cage, 1952]: I imagine that as contemporary music goes on changing … what will be done is to more and more completely liberate sounds from abstract ideas about them and more and more exactly to let them be physically uniquely themselves. This means for me: knowing more and more now what I think a sound is but what it actually is in all of its acoustical details and then letting this sound exist, itself, changing in a changing sonorous environment.

  • 50. [Earle Brown] Cage’s Music of Changes was a further indication that the arts in general were beginning to consciously deal with the ‘given’ material and, to varying degrees, liberating them from the inherited, functional concepts of control.

  • 50. [Morton Feldman] Only by ‘unfixing’ the elements traditionally used to construct a piece of music ould the sounds exist in themselves — not as symbols, or memories which were memories of other music to begin with.

  • 50. [Christian Wolff] We had to liberate ourselves from the direct and peremptory consequence of intention and effect, because the intention would always be our own and would be circumscribed, when so many other forces are evidently in action in the final effect.

  • Cage’s Zen philosophy of non-involvement.

  • 52. Feldman’s methodlessness yields “instinct” as compositional motive.

  • 53. [Feldman was] the first composer to put into practice what Cage called music ‘which is indeterminate with respect to its performance’, and the first to use non-representational graphic notation.

  • 53. Feldman succeeds in unfixing the melodic continuity, in dissolving the ‘logical’ connections between one sound and the next. Each individual note, for each player, arises from a ‘blind’, unprepared situation where the so-called pitch logic of serialism is automatically ru8led out; each note is heard (as far as is possible) as a separate, isolated timbre, since pitch has now become a secondary characteristic of instrumental timbre, reversing the traditional relationship.

  • 53. Each note, each chord is a separate weight, composed and heard separately, having no priority over the one coming before or after: ‘I make one sound, and then I move on to the next’ says Feldman.

    Succession, not progression.

  • 53-4. [Feldman's] notated pieces thus preserve exactly the same values as the graph pieces, and present very soft, short sounds, with occasional eruptions of loud sounds unmotivated, a-causal and non-symbolic. A single sound is ‘named’ and shown as a discrete object in its own right, surrounded by silence.

    Difference without semiosis. “Unmotivated” — is this a reference to Saussure’s notion of the relationship between sound and sense as unmotivated? Does “a-causal” mean that the sound is not caused by something, or that it causes nothing?

  • 54. Feldman once said that his music should be approached ‘as if you’re not listening, but looking at something in nature’; the loud and repeated sounds are akin to any unexpected natural features that might suddenly appear out of nowhere on a country walk.

    I wonder what this sensorium transform accomplishes for Feldman. Is he invoking a difference in the ways we perceive continuity through vision vs. audition? Do things “suddenly appear out of nowhere” to vision but not to hearing? How does “in nature” qualify that remark?

  • 55. [J]ust as refreshing is Feldman’s ‘withdrawal’ from a dramatically striving, rhetorical style. He has written ‘A modest statement can be totally original, where the “grand scale” is, more often than not, merely eclectic.’

    This sense of the rhetorical seems to be distinct from the sense of the literary and dramatic mentioned in Eno’s foreword. Nyman seems to be focusing on the ethos appeal of rhetoric — using drama to represent one’s own voice as powerful, as opposed to using it to enhance a narrative.

  • 56. Brown’s interest in the work of Calder and Pollock … accounts for the two important aspects of his own work: spontaneity and open-form mobility.

  • 57. If one describes an indeterminate piece as one in which the performer has an active hand in giving the music form, then Brown’s are indeterminate in the literal sense. Both Brown and Cage dramatize the structural aspect of process…but whereas Cage fixes the structure temporally and either suggests the material or (in his earlier pieces) used the I Ching to let the content decide itself, Brown composes the content and allows, as he says, the ‘human element to operate by opening up the form’. Brown has more recently written that he sees ‘form as a function of people acting directly in response to a described environment … it seems reasonable to consider the potential of the human mind as a collaborative creative parameter.’

    Alternate definition of indeterminacy?

  • 57. [Brown, 1952]: Time is the actual dimension in which music exists when performed and is by nature an infinitely divisible continuum. No metric system or notation based on metrics is able to indicate all of the possible points in the continuum, yet sound may begin or end anywhere along this dimension.

    Time as medium/element of music. What of space?

  • 58. By providing musicians with blank forms, Dick Higgins once pointed out, ‘the most relevant materials for a given time and mentality can be filled in, thus avoiding the appalling irrelevance of perishable materials that are no long er relevant.’ This is not necessarily true either, since the values and concepts embodied in the blank forms may become equally perishable, out-of-date and irrelevant.

  • 58. December 1952 and Four Systems … allow performers to ask (and answer ) for the first time in musical history such questions as: What are the units of time? And how to they relate to the total time…?

  • 60. [Cage] ‘When silence, generally speaking, is not in evidence, the will of the composer is.’ Inherent silence is equivalent to denial of the will, and (in 1958) he spoke of the need for discontinuity having the effect of ‘divorcing sounds from the burden of psychological intentions’.

  • 60. Cage has said that both he and Boulez were using similar techniques at this time: Boulez had turned the series into a chart arrangement while Cage used charts first as magin squares and then later in relation to the mechanics of using the I Ching for chance operations. The letters they exchanged at the time showed, according to Cage, ‘agreement between us at the beginning, and then divergence exactly on this point of total control and renunciation of control’. And certainly Cage’s opinion that chance procedures bring about ‘a musical composition the continuity of which is free of individual taste and memory (psychology) and also of the literature and “traditions” of the art’ sounds not dissimilar from Boulez’ intentions behind Structures Livre Ia for two pianos (1952) to ‘eliminate from my vocabulary absolutely all trace of heritage’.

    I’d note one important difference, however — Cage is removing self from the process in order to open to possibility, while Boulez is removing tradition in order to better promote self.

  • 61. [H]owever much Boulez may have resorted to quasi-automatic ‘external’ procedures, his methods are, contrary to Cage’s a supreme reinforcement of the type of unity described by Webern … since all sound parameters — rhythm, intensity, modes of attack and pitch content — have been related to the ‘ideal’ model of the 12-note chromatic scale.

  • 62. [David Tudor, regarding Music of Changes] Being an instrumentalist carries with it the job of making physical preparations for the next instant, so I had to learn to put myself into the right frame of mind. I had to learn how to be able to cancel my consciousness of any previous moment, order to be able to produce the next one. What this did for me was to bring about freedom, the freedom to do anything, and that’s how I learned to be free for a whole hour at a time.

    Resonates with Zen philosophy — freedom through cancellation of consciousness.

  • 62. Cage shifts from indeterminacy of composition to indeterminacy of performance (e.g. imaginary landscapes).

  • 65. [T]he compositional glue having been removed, things had to hold themselves together of their own accord especially as Cage recommends that the orchestra should be split up and the players freely distributed around the performing space, even amongst the audience. This put into practice Cage’s ideas about non-harmoniousness … which helped to bring about two conditions he desired — unimpededness and interpenetration. These are oriental concepts which D. T. Suzuki saw as distinguishing European thinking where ‘things are seen as causing on another and having effects’, from oriental thinking where ‘this seeing of cause and effect is not emphasized but instead one makes an identification with what is here and now’.

    Link to Nyman’s use of “acausal” above. Also composer responsibility.

  • 65. Each player makes his own programme from the not unspecific materials provided, calculated to fill an agreed-upon performance time.

  • 66. [Cage's Variations I] leaves the player free to use any kind of sound, from any kind of sound source, and the final transition has been made from the musical work as object to the work as process.

  • 66-7. While Cage was moving towards this kind of indeterminacy involving pre-performance determinations (rather like traditional composition, but with shifted emphasis) Christian Wolff was evolving an indeterminacy in which all the decisions were to be made during performance, not by providing sound material to be realized on the spot (like Feldman and Brown) but by creating a chain of unpredictable situations which would only be brought about through the act of performing.

  • 69. [The player in Wolff's contingent pieces], apart from listening for cues, is so involved int e act of preparing, timing and releasing sounds that, as John Tilbury has said, ‘you have no chance of emotional self-indulgence; you have a job to do and it takes all your concentration to do it efficiently — i.e. musically With this music you learn the prime qualities needed in performing: discipline, devotion and disinterestedness.’

    Here we see the inversion of expression — Wolff’s contingent approach frees the performer, but not for expression.

  • 70. [Brown] There must be a fixed (even if flexible) sound-content, to establish the character of the work, in order to be called ‘open’ or ‘available’ form. We recognize people regardless of what they are doing or saying or how they are dressed if their basic identity has been established as a constant but flexible function of being alive.

    This seems to be another take on composer responsibility — in the absence of determined form it becomes more important to establish the identity of the piece.

  • 77. According to George Maciunas, the chief protagonist of Fluxus, Fluxus events ‘strive for the monostructural and nontheatrical qualities of the simple natural event, a game or a gag. It is the fusion of Spike Jones, vaudeville, gag, children’s games and Duchamp.’

    Striving for the nontheatrical and natural event — link to the asemiotic quality of events, per Derrida.

  • 84. [Lamonte] Young was at that time presenting nature directly rather than analogizing natural processes. If the fire piece needs any justification then it lies in Young’s statement that it is good for someone to ‘listen to what he ordinarily just looks at, or look at things he would ordinarily just hear’.

  • 91. [Gordon Mumma]: My decisions about electronic procedures, circuitry, and configurations are strongly influenced by the requirements of my profession of a music maker. This is one reason why I consider that my designing and building of circuits is really ‘composing’. I am simply employing electronic technology in the achievement of my art.

  • 102. [The] musical result [in Lucier's Hornpipe] is not programmed definitively but depends finally on the interaction of the openness of the (gate-controlled) circuits and the unaccountable acoustics of the hall.

  • 110. What is also very important about the Fluxus events is that while the Cage campe was still involved with abstract, partially explained processes, Fluxus composers unashamedly dealt out unambiguous, concrete proposals (which still left room for personal idiosyncrasies in realization).

  • 113. [Wolff]: I’m trying to see how little I can indicate and yet come up with a piece that’s clearly itself, one that still has a life of its own.

    Indication, ideality, iterability, and life in one brief statement.

  • 117. Roger Smalley has written of his experience of Cardew’s earlier music that ‘so far from being entirely free, as one might suppose at a casual glance, the performer finds himself gradually enmeshed in an ever-narrowing field of possibilities wherein it eventually becomes difficult to do anything at all.’

  • 118. What is important, overall, is a contextual consistency: in [Caredew's] Treatise a sign has to be made appropriate to its context.

  • 119. He found that his most rewarding experiences with Treatise had come through people who by some fluke have (a) acquired a visual education (b) escaped a musical education and (c) have nevertheless become musicians, i.e. play music to the full capacity of their beings.

  • 119. For Cardew each composition was a matrix to draw out the interpreter’s feelings about certain topics or materials.

  • 122-3. Cardew reinterpreted The Great Learning by Maoist methods according to Maoist principles.

  • 123. The strength of The Great Learning derives in part from Cardew’s (then) personal acceptance of the Confucian principles of behavior and their translation into direct, non-symbolic (non-expressive) musical procedures

    Asemiosis.

  • 127. [Cardew] It’s not what it sounds like that interests me, it’s what it is. Actually this is one of my standards — not to make a sound that’s like something, but make a sound that is just that … I want the feeling that everything you do is for the first time. You have to discover the notes. There’s something great about doing things twice because it’s never quite the same the second time

    Iterability, nature, asemiosis.

  • 137-8. Dick Higgins once wrote of the rules which govern some types of experimental composition:
    [They] establish a community of participants who are more conscious of behaving in similar ways than they would be if they were acting in a drama. This community aspect has its dangers and its blessings. In being conscious of other participants an individual may become self-conscious and decide to reject them, grandstanding and damaging the spirit of the piece in a much more uncontrolled way than if he had not been given the responsibility of making his own use of the rules.

    Freedom in group process as a driver of destructive individuation.

  • 138. [N]o single social phenomenon makes a completely apt analogy, which is understandable since the Scratch Orchestra was always (just) the Scratch Orchestra…. Christopher Hobbs proposed the very suitable social analogy of a party:
    What’s needed is a situation which will destroy the clear-cut form of the tripartite musical system … in which each person will move effortlessly between the role of the composer, performer, and listener. The best analogy I can think of where the participants take active and passive roles quite freely is that of a party. Say you substituted host for performer, guest for listener (composers don’t concern us right now). As well as making conversation you’d be making music, perhaps in the same way as you’d make conversation, drifting up to a performance already in progress, listening for a while to get the gist of what was going on, walking away if the proceedings didn’t interest you, staying around, contributing something perhaps if they did…. It is interesting that while one rarely blames anyone for the failure [of a party], people are only too quick to blame the organizers for the failure, as far as they are concerned, of a concert. Its’ to do with expectation…. Mostly they want to … be entertained.

    Generative music offers another means to destruction of the tripartite musical system.

  • 151. With Reich, as with Young, Riley and Glass, the process is used as the subject rather than the source of music.

  • 152. Reich selects his materials and discovers the best process to run the material through but ‘once the process is set up and loaded it runs by itself.’

    I can see how this describes his tape phase pieces or Pendulum Music, but what of a piece such as Music for 18 Musicians? Maybe those aren’t intended to fit the category of gradual process music, although graduality is certainly an important driver.

  • 153. Machines did however make possible some instrumental music which Reich considers he could never have arrived at ‘by listening to any other western or non-western music’.

  • 154. Of the ‘mechanical’ aspect of playing his phase pieces Reich has written:
    This music is not the expression of the momentary state of mind of the performers while playing. Rather the momentary state of mind of the performers while playing is largely determined by the ongoing composed slowly changing music. By voluntarily giving up the freedom to do whatever momentarily comes to mind we are, as a result, free of all that momentarily comes to mind. The extreme limits used here then have nothing to do with totalitarian political controls imposed from without , but are closely related to Yogic controls of the breath and the mind, maintained from within … The kind of attention that ‘mechanical’ playing calls for is something we could do more of, and the ‘human expressive ‘ activity which is assumed to be innately human and associated with improvisation and similar liberties is what we could do with less of right now.

  • 155. Drumming especially draws attention to types of by-products … such as the complex cross rhythms which are produced … through the hocket-like combination of a number of very simple rhythmic patterns. These acoustic effects were especially prominent in the tape pieces…. In these, acoustic incidentals in the original loops — such as the sound of pigeons heard in the background behind the preacher’s voice, verbal transients, consonants and so on — are released, emphasized and transformed by the repetition and phase-shifting process, adding a dimension of previously unheard and unsuspected sounds which could not have been produced in any other way.

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some essential distinctions

regarding

Derrida, Jacques. Speech and phenomena and other essays on Husserl’s theory of signs. Trans. David B. Allison. Ed. John Wild. Evanston IL: Northwestern University Press, 1973.

  • 3-4. [T]he first of [Husserl's] Investigations (“Expression and Meaning”) opens with a chapter devoted to some “essential distinctions” which rigorously command all subsequent analyses. And the coherence of this chapter is entirely due to a distinction proposed in the first paragraph: the word “sign” (Zeichen) will have a “twofold sense” (ein Doppelsinn); “sign” may signify “expression” (Ausdruck) or “indication” (Anzeichen).

  • 5. [Husserl's founding prescription] would constitute phenomenology from within, in its project of criticism and in the instructive value of its own premises? This would be done precisely in what soon comes to be recognized as the source and guarantee of all value, the “principle of principles”: i.e., the original self-giving evidence, the present or presence of sense to a full and primordial intuition.

  • 6. The unique and permanent motif of all the mistakes and distortions which Husserl exposes in “degenerated” metaphysics across a multiplicity of domains, themes, and arguments, as always a blindness to the authentic mode of ideality, to that which is, to what may be indefinitely repeated in the identity of its presence, because of the very fact that it does not exist, is not real or is irreal…. In order that the possibility of this repetition may be open, ideally, to infinity, one ideal form must insure the unity of the indefinite and the ideal: this is the present, or rather the presence of the living present.

  • 7. [It] is a question of (1) the necessary transition from retention to re-presentation (Vergegenwärtigung) in the constitution of the presence of a temporal object (Gegenstand) whose identity may be repeated; and (2) the necessary transition by way of appresentation in relation to the alter ego, that is, in relation to what also makes possible an ideal objectivity in general; for intersubjectivity is the condition for objectivity, which is absolute only in the case of ideal objects.

  • 8. When we speak of the purely grammatical, we mean that system of rules which enables us to recognize whether or not a discourse is, properly speaking, a discourse. Speech, to be sure, must make sense; but do falsity and the absurdity of contradiction (Widersinnigkeit) necessarily make it unintelligible….? This grammar concerns only the logical a priori of languages; it is pure logical grammar.

  • 9. There is no ideality without there being an Idea in the Kantian sense at work, opening up the possibility of something indefinite, the infinity of a stipulated progression or the infinity of permissible repetitions. This ideality is the very form in which the presence of an object in general may be indefinitely repeated as the same.

    Is repetition then a kind of self-regeneration? Is persistence a consequence of repetition on infinitessimally small time increments?

  • 10. [W]e ought to consider, on the one hand, that the element of signification — or the substance of expression — which best seems to preserve ideality and living presence in all its forms is living speech, the spirituality of the breath as phōnē; and, on the other hand, that phenomenology, the metaphysics of presence in the form of ideality, is also a philosophy of life.

  • 14. One finds out quickly enough that the sole nucleus of the concept of psychē is life as self-relationship, whether or not it takes place in the form of consciousness. “Living” is thus the ame of that which preceds the reduction and finally escapes all the division which the latter gives rise to.

    Is it fair to argue, then, that all the biotic metaphors endemic to generative music are akin to Husserl’s specious distinctions between pure psychology and transcendental phenomenology?

  • 15. But since the possibility of constituting ideal objects belongs to the essence of consciousness, and since these ideal objects are historical products, only appearing thanks to acts of creation or intending, the element of consciousness and the element of language will be more and more difficult to discern. Will not their indiscernibility introduce nonpresence and difference (mediation, signs, referral back, etc.) in the heart of self-presence?

    Some of the discourses around experimental music seem to want to bypass semiosis and get to sound on its own terms. Is this a transcendental appeal to self-presence? If language (semiosis) and consciousness are difficult to discern, does that confusion apply in reverse? I.e., when we perceive a non-human agent as engaging in semiosis, do we infer an intelligence behind it?

  • 16. For it is not in the sonorous substance or in the physical voice, in the body of speech in the world, that [Husserl] will recognize an original affinity with the logos in general, but in the voice phenomenologically taken, speech in its transcendental flesh, in the breath, the intentional animation that transforms the body of the word into flesh.

  • 17. Husserl begins by pointing out a confusion: The word “sign” (Zeichen) covers … two heterogeneous concepts: that of expression (Ausdruck), which is often wrongly taken as a synonym for sign in general, and that of indication (Anzeichen). But, according to Husserl, there are signs that express nothing because they convey nothing one could call … Bedeutung or Sinn. Such is the indicative sign [indice].

    The performance of notated music is commonly regarded as a process of adding the performer’s “human” expression to the indications of the composer’s notations. This affiliation of “humanity” with “expression” seems to parallel Husserl’s usage.

  • 18. [F]or Husserl, the expressiveness of expression — which always supposes the ideality of Bedeutung — has an irreducible tie to the possibility of spoken language (Rede). An expression is a purely linguistic sign, and it is precisely this that in the first analysis distinguishes it from an indicative sign. Although spoken language is a highly complex structure, always containing in fact an indicative stratum, which, as we shall see, is difficult to confine within its limits, Husserl has nonetheless reserved for it the power of expression exclusively — and thereby pure logicality.

    Note: in German, “Rede” means “speech”. In late middle English (e.g. in Chaucer), it means “understand”.

  • 18. [M]eaning (Bedeutung) is always what a discourse or somebody wants to say: what is conveyed, then, is always what a discourse or somebody wants to say: what is conveyed, then, is always a linguistic sense, a discursive content.

    A discursive content and an intention.

  • 19. [quotation from Husserl] [W]e ourselves, when referring to any intentional experiences, have spoken all along of “sense” (Sinn), a word which is generally used as an equivalent for “meaning” (Bedeutung).

  • 20. The difference between indication and expression very quickly appears in the course of the description to be a difference more functional than substantial. Indication and expression are functions or signifying relations, not terms. One and the same phenomenon may be apprehended as an expression or as an indication, a discursive or nondiscursive sign depending on the intentional experience [vécu intentionnel] which animates it.

  • 21. The whole analysis will thus advance in this separation between de facto and de jure, existence and essence, reality and intentional function. Skipping over many mediations and inverting the apparent order, we would be tempted to say that this separation, which defines the very space of phenomenology, does not exist prior to the question of language, nor does it enter into it, so to speak, as into an already bounded domain or as one problem among others; it is discovered only in and through the possibility of language. And its de jure import, the right to a distinction between fact and intention, depends entirely on language and, in language, on the validity of a radical distinction indication and expression.

    de facto de jure
    existence essence
    reality (or fact) intention
    indication expression
  • 22. By a strange paradox, meaning would isolate the concentrated purity of its ex-pressiveness just at that moment when the relation to a certain outside is suspended. Only to a certain outside, because this reduction does not eliminate, but rather reveals, within pure expression, a relation to an object, namely the intending [visée] of an objective reality, which stands face to face with the meaning-intention, the Bedeutungsintention.

  • 27. Husserl devotes only three paragraphs to “the essence of indication” and, in the same chapter, eleven paragraphs to expression. His logical and epistemological concern here is to secure the originality of expression as “meaning” and as relation to an ideal object. The treatment of indication must therefore be brief, preliminary, and “reductive.”

  • 27. What is an indicative sign? First, it may be natural (the canals of Mars indicate the possible presence of intelligent beings) as well as artificial (the chalk mark, the stigmata, all the instruments of conventional designation). Here the opposition between nature and convention has no pertinence whatsoever and in no way divides the unity of the indicative function.

  • 30. The indicative sign falls outside the content of absolutely ideal objectivity, that is, outside truth. Here again, the very possibility of this exteriority, or rather this extrinsic character of the indicative sign, is inseparable from the possibility of all the forthcoming reductions, be they eidetic or transcendental.

  • 30. Would we ont be already justified in saying that the whole future problem of the reduction and all the conceptual differences in which it is articulated (fact/essence, worldliness/transcendentality, and all the oppositions systematically involved with it) are opened up in a divergence between two kinds of signs?

  • 32. Expressions are signs which “want to say”, which “mean.”

    Vouloir-dire. The sign itself has volition, intention.

  • 32. Ex-pression is exteriorization. It imparts to a certain outside a sense which is first found in a certain inside…. The meaning (bedeuten) intends an outside which is that of an ideal ob-ject. This outside is then ex-pressed and goes forth beyond itself into another outside, which is alway “in” consciousness.

    This could be used to summarize the ultimate basis for my skeptical attitude toward the prevailing usage of “expression” — it presupposes an interiority spuriously taken to be self-present.

  • 33. The relation to objectivity thus denotes a “pre-expressive” (vorausdrücklich) intentionality aiming at a sense which is to be transformed into meaning and expression. It is not self-evident, however, that this repeated and reflected “going-forth” toward the noematic sense and then toward expression is an unproductive reduplication, especially if we consider that by being “unproductive” Husserl understands the “productivity that exhausts itself in expressing, and in the form of the conceptual introduced with this function.”

  • 33. Expression is a voluntary exteriorization; it is meant, conscious through and through, and intentional. There is no expression without the intention of a subject animating the sign, giving it a Geistigkeit. In indication the animation has two limits: the body of the sign, which is not merely a breath, and that which is indicated, an existence in the world. In expression the intention is absolutely explicit because it animates a voice which may remain entirely internal and because the expressed is a meaning (Bedeutung), that is an ideality “existing” nowhere in the world.

  • 34. What “means,” i.e., that which the meaning means to say — the meaning, Bedeutung — is left up to whoever is speaking, insofar as he says what he wants to say, what he means to say expressly, explicitly, and consciously.

  • 34. The whole stratum of empirical effectiveness, that is, the factual totality of speech, thus belongs to indication, which is still more extensive than we had realized. The effectiveness, the totality of the events of discourse, is indicative, not only because it is in the world, but also because it retains in itself something of the nature of an involuntary association.

  • 35. The explicit teleology that commands the whole of transcendental phenomenology would be at bottom nothing but a transcendental voluntarism. Sense wants to be signified; it is expressed only in a meaning [vouloir-dire] which is none other than a wanting-to-tell-itself proper to the presence of sense.

    “Sense wants to be signified” — as “information wants to be free”?

  • 35. This explains why everything that escapes the pure spiritual intention, the pure animation by Geist, that is, the will, is excluded from meaning (bedeuten) and thus from expression. What is excluded is, for example, facial expressions, gestures, the whole of the body and the mundane register, in a word, the whole of the visible and spatial as such. As such: that is, insofar as they are not worked over by Geist, by the will, by the Geistigkeit, which, in the word just as in the human body, transforms the Körper into Leib (into flesh). The opposition between body and soul is not only at the center of this doctrine of signification, it is confirmed by it; and, as has always been at botom the case in philosophy, it depends upon an interpretation of language. Visibility and spatiality as such could only destroy the self-presence of will and spiritual animation which opens up discourse. They are literally the death of that self-presence.

    The visible and spatial excluded from meaning. And yet in conventionally notated music performance, the visible and spatial are crucial elements in how the performer signals s/he is “expressing”.

  • 36. Even for him who finds something discursive in another person’s gestures, the indicative manifestations of the other are not thereby transformed into expressions. It is he, the interpreter, who expresses himself about them.

    Writerliness of the interpretation of gestures.

  • 36. Husserl draws a boundary which passes, not between language and the nonlinguistic, but, within language in general, between the explicit and nonexplicit.

  • 37. It does not suffice, in short, to recognize oral discourse as the medium of expressivity. once we have excluded all nondiscursive signs immediately given as extrinsic to speech (gestures, facial expressions, etc.), there still remains a considerable sphere of the nonexpressive within speech itself.

    “The nonexpressive within speech” — like the noise within music?

  • 37. [I]n the final analysis what separates expression from indication could be called the immediate nonself-presence of the living present. The elements of worldly existence, of what is natural or empirical, of sensibility, of association, etc., which determined the concept of indication, will perhaps … find their ultimate unity in this nonpresence.

  • 37. All speech inasmuch as it is engaged in communication and manifests lived experience operates as indication.

  • 38. Everything in my speech which is destined to manifest in experience to another must pass by the mediation of its physical side; this irreducible mediation involves every expression in an indicative operation. The manifesting function … is an indicative function. Here we find the core of indication: indication takes place whenever the sense-giving act, the animating intention, the living spirituality of the meaning-intention, is not fully present.

  • 39. [Husserl]: The hearer perceives the speaker as manifesting certain inner experiences, and to that extent he also perceives these experiences themselves; he does not, however, himself experience them, he has not an “inner” but an “outer” percept of them. Here we have the big difference between the real grasp of what is in adequate intuition, and the putative (vermeintlichen) grasp of what is on a basis of inadequate, though intuitive, presentation.

  • 40. The notion of presence is the core of this demonstration. If communication or intimation (Kundgabe) is essentially indicative, this is because we have no primordial intuition of the presence of the other’s lived experience. Whenever the immediate and full presence of the signified is concealed, the signifier will be of an indicative nature.

  • 40. All speech, or rather everything in speech which does not restore the immediate presence of the signified content, is inexpressive. Pure expression will be the pure active intention (spirit, psychē, life, will) of an act of meaning (bedeuten) that animates a speech whose content (Bedeutung) is present. It is present not in nature, since only indication takes place in nature and across space, but in consciousness. Thus it is present to an “inner” intuition or perception.

    All speech is indicative.

  • 41. [Husserl]: A word only ceases to be a word when our interest stops at its sensory contour, when it becomes a mere sound-pattern. But when we live in the understanding of a word, it expresses something and the same thing, whether we address it to anyone or not.

    The “sensory contour” appears to be the primary interest of John Cage. And yet his thoughts on sound seem frequently metaphysical.

  • 43. The certitude of inner existence, Husserl thinks, has no need to be signified. It is immediately present to itself. It is living consciousness.

  • 48. In solitary discourse the subject learns nothing about himself, manifests nothing to himself. To support this demonstration, whose consequences for phenomenology will be limitless, Husserl invokes two kinds of argument.
    1. In inward speech I communicate nothing to myself, I indicate nothing to myself. I can at most imagine myself doing so; I can only represent myself as manifesting something to myself….
    2. In inward speech I communicate nothing to myself because there is not need of it; I can only pretend to do so.

  • 50. A sign is never an event, if by event we mean an irreplaceable and irreversible empirical particular. A sign which would take place but “once” would not be a sign…. A signifier (in general) must be formally recognizable in spite of, and through, the diversity of empirical characteristics which may modify it…. A phoneme or grapheme is necessarily always to some extent different each time that it is presented in an operation or a perception. But, it can only function as a sign, and in general as language, only if a formal identity enables it to be issues again and again to be recognized. This identity is necessarily ideal. It thus necessarily implies representation.

    “A sign is never an event.” Is it fair, then, to say that experimental musicians sought to access eventhood (e.g. happenings?) in bypassing semiosis?

  • 51. Signs can be eliminated in the classical manner in a philosophy of intuition and presence. Such a philosophy eliminates signs by making them derivative; it annuls reproduction and representation by making signs a modification of a simple presence.

  • 52. We thus come — against Husserl’s express intention — to make the Vorstellung itself, and as such, depend on the possibility of re-presentation (Vergegenwärtigung). The presence-of-the-present is derived from repetition and not the reverse.

    Presence derived from repetition.

  • 52. According to Husserl, the structure of speech can only be described in terms of ideality. There is the ideality of the sensible form of the signifier (for example, the word), which must remain the same and can do so only as an ideality. There is, moreover, the ideality of the signified (of the Bedeutung) or intended sense, which is not to be confused with the act of intending or with the object, for the latter two need not necessarily be ideal. Finally, in certain cases there is the ideality of the object itself, which then assures the ideal transparency and perfect univocity of language; this is what happens in the exact sciences. But this ideality, which is but another name for the permanence of the same and the possibility of its repetition, does not exist in the world, and it does not come from another world; it depends entirely on the possibility of acts of repetition…. It could therefore be said that being is determined by Husserl as ideality, that is, as repetition.

    Ideality of scientism.

  • 57. Speech represents itself; it is its representation. Even better, speech is the representation of itself.

    Could this be regarded as a more profound take on McLuhan’s aphorism “the medium is the message”?

  • 60. Whenever Husserl wants to stress the sense of primordial intuition, he will recall that it is the experience of the absence and uselessness of signs.

    Absence/uselessness => possibility/necessity

  • 61. What Husserl says about the perception of sensible corporeal things also holds for perception in general, namely, that, by being given in person in presence, it is a “sign for itself”.

  • 64. [Husserl]: …if we call perception the act in which all “origination” lies, which constitutes originarily, then primary remembrance is perception. For only in primary remembrance do we see what is past, only in it is the past constituted, i.e., not in a representative but in a presentative way.

  • 65. [Husserl] is trying to retain two irreconcilable possibilities: (a) The living now is constituted as the absolute perceptual source only in a state of continuity with retention taken as nonperception. Fidelity to experience and to “the things themselves” forbids that it be otherwise. (b) The source of certitude in general is the primordial character of the living now; it is necessary therefore to keep retention in the sphere of primordial certitude and to shift the frontier between the primordial and the nonprimordial. The frontier must pass not between the pure present and the nonpresent, i.e., between the actuality and inactuality of a living now, but rather between two forms of the re-turn or re-stitution of the present: re-tention and re-presentation.

    Shifting frontier.

  • 75. There is an unfailing complicity between idealization and speech [voix]. An ideal object is an object whose showing may be repeated indefinitely, whose presence to Zeigen is indefinitely reiterable precisely because, freed from all mundane spatiality, it is a pure noema that I can express without having, at least apparently, to pass through the world. In this sense the phenomenological voice, which seems to accomplish this operation “in time”, does not break with the order of Zeigen but belongs to the same system and carries through its function. The passage to infinity characteristic of the idealization of objects is one with the historical advent of the phōnē.

  • 75. In order to really understand where the power of the voice lies, and how metaphysics, philosophy, and the determination of being as presence constitute the epoch of speech as technical mastery of objective being, to properly understand the unity of technē and phōnē, we must think through the objectivity of the object. The ideal object is the most objective of objects; independent of the here-and-now acts and events of the empirical subjectivity which intends it, it can be repeated infinitely while remaining the same. Since its presence to intuition, its being-before the gaze, has no essential dependence on any worldly or empirical synthesis, the re-establishement of its sense in the form of presence becomes a universal and unlimited possibility. But, being nothing outside the world, this ideal being must be constituted, repeated, and expressed in a medium that does not impair the presence and self-presence of the acts that aim at it, a medium which both preserves the presence of the object before intuition and self-presence, the absolute proximity of the acts to themselves. The ideality of the object, which is only its being-for a nonempirical consciousness, can only be expressed in an element whose phenomenality does not have worldly form. The name of this element is the voice.

    Ideal object and voice.

  • 76. The [speaking] subject does not have to pass forth beyond himself to be immediately affected by his expressive activity. My words are “alive” because they seem not to leave me: not to fall outside me, outside my breath, at a visible distance; not to cease to belong to me, to be at my disposition…. The objection will perhaps be raised that this interiority belongs to the phenomenological and ideal aspect of every signifier. The ideal form of a written signifier, for example, is not in the world, and the distinction between the grapheme and the empirical body of the corresponding graphic sign separates an inside from an outside, phenomenological consciousness from the world. And this is true for every visual or spatial signifier. And yet every non-phonic signifier involves a spatial reference in its very “phenomenon,” in the phenomenological (nonworldly) sphere of experience in which it is given.

  • 77. Let us try, then, to question the phenomenological value of the voice, its transcendent dignity with regard to every other signifying substance. We think … that this transcendence is only apparent. But the “appearance” is the very essence of consciousness and its history, and it determines an epoch characterized by the philosophical idea of truth and the opposition between truth and appearance, as this opposition still functions in phenomenology.

    Phonocentrism — phonality of truth, visuality of falsehood.

  • 77. The “apparent transcendence” of the voice thus results from the fact that the signified, which is always ideal by essence, the “expressed” Bedeutung is immediately present in the act of expression. This immediate presence results from the fact that the phenomenological “body” of the signifier seems to fade away at the very moment it is produced; it seems already to belong to the element of ideality…. This effacement of the sensible body and its exteriority is for consciousness the very form of the immediate presence of the signified.

  • 78. It is implied in the very structure of speech that the speaker hears himself: both that he perceives the sensible form of the phonemes and that he understands his own expressive intention. If accidents occur which seem to contradict this teleological necessity, either they will be overcome by some supplementary operation or there will be no speech.

    What of the externality of the musical instrument — does the guitarist hear himself as a speaker does? What of the externality of the generative player — does the system hear itself?

  • 78. “[H]earing oneself speak” is an auto-affection of a unique kind…. [T]he subject can hear or speak to himself and be affected by the signifier he produces, without passing through an external detour, the world, the sphere of what is not “his own.”

    The middle voice.

  • 79. The voice is the being which is present to itself in the form of universality, as consciousness; the voice is consciousness.

  • 80. Ideally, in the teleological essence of speech, it would then be possible for the signifier to be in absolute proximity to the signified aimed at in intuition and governing the meaning. The signifier would become perfectly diaphanous due to the absolute proximity to the signified. This proximity is broken when, instead of hearing myself speak, I see myself write or gesture.

  • 80. [T]he movement which … confirms the phonologism of metaphysics. If writing brings the constitution of ideal objects to completion, it does so through phonetic writing: it proceeds to fix, inscribe, record, and incarnate an already prepared utterance. To reactivate writing is always to reawaken an expression in an indication, a word in the body of a letter, which, as a symbol that may always remain empty, bears the threat of crisis in itself.

    Reading as reanimation.

  • 81. What governs here is the absolute difference between body and soul. Writing is a body that expresses something only if we actually pronounce the verbal expression that animates it, if its space is temporalized.

    Derrida may be making a facile consignment of speech to time and writing to space. Speech unfolds over time, yes, but does so through space — the moving of air across the trachea, across the room, through tympanic membrane, etc. And writing is recorded in space, but writing and reading take place over time.

  • 82. [A]uto-affection supposed that a pure difference comes to divide self-presence. In this pure difference is rooted the possibility of everything we think we can exclude from auto-affection: space, the outside, the world, the body, etc. As soon as it is admitted that auto-affection is the condition for self-presence, no pure transcendental reduction is possible.

  • 82n8. Translator’s gloss on differance.
  • 83. What constitutes the originality of speech, what distinguishes it from every other element of signification, is that its substance seems to be purely temporal. And this temporality does not unfold a sense that would itself be nontemporal; even before being expressed, sense is through and through temporal.

  • 83. [Husserl]: The primal impression is the absolute beginning of this generation — the primal source, that from which all others are continuously generated. In itself, however, it is not generated; it does not come into existence as that which is generated but through spontaneous generation. It does not grow up (it has no seed): it is primal creation.

    Generation!

  • 86. Since the trace is the intimate relation of the living present with its outside, the openness upon exteriority in general, upon the sphere of what is not “one’s own,” etc., the temporalization of sense is, from the outset, a “spacing”.… Space is “in” time; it is time’s pure leaving-itself; it is the “outside-itself” as the self-relation of time. The externality of space, externality as space, does not overtake time; rather, it opens as pure “outside” “within” the movement of temporalization…. [T]he theme of a pure inwardness of speech, or of the “hearing onself speak” is radically contradicted by “time” itself. The going-forth “into the world” is also primordially implied in the movement of temporalization…. Hearing oneself speak is not the inwardness of an inside that is closed in upon itself; it is the irreducible openness in the inside; it is the eye and the world within speech.

  • 88. Differance is to be conceived prior to the separation between deferring as delay and differing as the active work of difference. Of course this is inconceivable if one begins on the basis of consciousness, that is presence, or on the basis of its simple contrary, absence or nonconsciousness.

  • 93. The absence of intuition — and therefore of the subject of the intuition — is not only tolerated by speech; it is required by the general structure of signification, when considered in itself. It is radically requisite: the total absence of the subject and object of a statement‚ the death of the writer and/or the disappearance of the objects he was able to describe — does not prevent a text from “meaning” something. On the contrary, this possibility gives birth to meaning as such, gives it out to be heard and read.

    Meaning requires absence.

  • 93. How is writing — the common name for signs which function despite the total absence of the subject because of (beyond) his death — involved in the very act of signification in general and, in particular, in what is called “living” speech?

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if noise is the point at which language buckles

regarding

Reynolds, Simon. Noise In Audio culture: Readings in modern music. Eds Christoph Cox and Daniel Warner. New York: Continuum, 2002.
Originally published in Blissed out: The raptures of rock (1990).

  • 55. If music is like a language, if it communicates some kind of emotional or spiritual message, then noise is best defined as interference.

    Here I would grant the conclusion but not the premise; let’s not assume music communicates or expresses.

  • 55. The subliminal message of most music is that the universe is essentially benign, that if there is sadness or tragedy, this is resolved at the level of some higher harmony. This is why noise groups invariably deal with subject matter that is anti-humanist—extremes of abjection, obsession, trauma, atrocity, possession….
  • 56. Noise then, occurs when language breaks down. Noise is a wordless state in which the very constitution of ourselves is in jeopardy. The pleasure of noise lies in the fact that the obliteration of meaning and identity is ecstasy….

    See also Derrida’s commentary on Husserl in Speech and Phenomena regarding the complementarity of meaning and physicality.

  • 56. The problem is that, to speak of noise, to give it attributes, to claim things for it, is immediately to shackle it with meaning again, to make it part of the culture…. To confer the status of value upon excess and extremism is to bring these things back within the pale of decency.

  • 56. Here are some examples of noise overdetermined by meaning

    Noise as reality effect:

    ….[B]eauty and harmony are a lie, presenting a bourgeois vision of nature and society as fundamentally balanced and ordered…. [W]e have an obligation to listen to noise because it shows us the grim truth of reality….

  • 56-7. There seems to be a need to maintain the belief that “straights,” grown-ups would be shocked, damaged, altered, if they were around to hear the music. But the blindingly obvious fact is that no one is around to be disturbed…. But the whole discourse of noise-as-threat is bankrupt, positively inimical to the remnants of power that still cling to noise. Forget subversion. The point is self-subversion, overthrowing the power structure in your own head. The enemy is the mind’s tendency to systematize, sew up experience, place a distance between itself and immediacy….

    This resonates with my experience with some of the puerile discourses that can crop up in noise circles — a lot of the same concerns as appear in metal, shock/glam, etc. — brutality and psychosis being a mere escalation of Romantic passion and eccentricity. I’m with Reynolds until he strays into the metaphysical proposition of transcending mediation.

  • 57. Noise is about fascination, the antithesis of meaning. If music is a language, communicating moods and feelings, then noise is like an eruption within the material out of which language is shaped. We are arrested, fascinated, by a convulsion of sound to which we are unable to assign a meaning. We are mesmerized by the materiality of music. This is why noise and horror go hand in hand—because madness and violence are senseless and arbitrary (violence is the refusal to argue), and the only response is wordless—to scream.

    I’m having trouble placing Reynolds here. In part he seems to have strayed back into what I called puerile discourses above. And yet I think he’s onto something with the notion of fascination vs. meaning. Or is fascination merely a cognitive response eliciting an intense effort to make meaning out of the apparently meaningless?

  • 57. Too often, noise has meant a level plane of abraded texture, which can merely add up to a different kind of blandness, a sense-dulling consistency. There needs to be more dips, swerves, lapses, use of space and architecture. HipHop is something the noise bands can learn from. The current HipHop aesthetic … is based around the forcing-into-friction of antagonistic ambiences and idioms, samples from random points in pop history. The effect is psychedelic, dispersing consciousness as effectively as any pure din.

    Note: this was first published in 1992, when Public Enemy was still the leading exemplar of the hip-hop aesthetic. Today the dominant paradigms of hip-hop production alternate between uber-slick studio production and retro appeals to the halcyon days of techno-rap — Roland TR-808 drum machines and 8-bit samplers. The friction no longer feels forced, and therefore begins to feel forced. Effective use of space, however, still characterizes good hip-hop production.

  • 58. [I]f noise is the point at which language buckles and culture fails, then you could argue that noise occurs in moments, tiny breakages and stresses dispersed all over the surface of music, all kinds of music. Maybe we should listen out for the noise in the voices of Kristin Hersh, Tim Buckley, Prince, Michael Jackson — the way the chew and twist language not for any decipherable, expressive reason … but for the gratuitous voluptuousness of utterance itself. in their voices, you can hear a surplus of form over content, of genotext over phenotext, semiotic over symbolic, Barthes’ “grain” (the resistance of the body to the voice) over technique. Of “telling” over “story”

    Here again dancing over Husserl’s divide between physis and expression (though, paradoxically, in classical music performance discourse, “expression” is the domain to which are consigned elements of “telling” in excess of the compositional “story”.) I think we also risk here an unwarranted validation of stylism in music performance — the work of artists who become so wedded to and identified with a distinctive performance style that they come to emphasize it at the expense of any other value they might impart to their work.

  • 58. There seem to be two choices in noise right now, two routes to oblivion. One is the noise/horror interface, in which violent imagery and musical dissonance are applied concussively, inducing a shell-shocked stated of catatonia …. Noise/horror undoes the self by confronting it with the other that dwells within it, the monstrous potential latent in us all, waiting to be catalysed by an extreme predicament; what I’ve called the new psychedelia undoes the self by letting it drift off and disappear into the otherwordly. Noise/horror strikes me as a limited form of self-destruction, that can only yield diminishing returns. Compare its claustrophobic confines and concealed machismo with the open spaces and fragility of the new psychedelia…. Both “strategies” are alike in one thing — they demand from the listener an immobility — one stunned, the other spellbound…. Resistance does not take the form of becoming a subject, but through becoming an object.

    Cox & Warner’s edition of the article elides Reynolds’ discussion of psychedelia. I’d be curious to see how he defines it. I think a lot of generative and ambient music

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sounds that ebb and surge across the cityscape

regarding

Stockfelt, Ola. Adequate modes of listening. Trans. Anahid Kassabian and Leo G. Svendsen. In Keeping score: Music, disciplinarity, culture. Eds David Schwarz, Anahid Kassabian, and Lawrence Siegel. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 1997.

  • 129-32. Evolution of cultural reception of Mozart’s 40th Symphony.
  • 130. [A]daptations of the symphony, fitting it to new listeners and new listening contexts, however, raised protests on the part of those “educated” listeners who considered “classical” music the carrier of eternal values …. [and who] managed to establish a sort of “refuge for the higher art,” encompassing both performances and academic discussion. This refuge reified a classical repertoire, a classicist performance praxis, explicit normative rules for an adequate approach to this classicist-performed classical repertoire, and an explicit language for discussing the music as it was recreated by listeners under these conditions: in short a musical discourse reified these conditions as basic human principles inseparable from the concept of music. Within the confines of this refuge the Symphony no. 40 could be given a specific eternal value insofar as it constituted a part of the normative structure of classical music. The work, as it was recreated by the educated listener through established performance praxis, could in this way become its own norm.
  • 132. New modes of listening have been developed for new relations between listener and music in relation to new repertoires. Moreover, these new modes of listening have demanded changes in established performance praxis and in rearrangements of established works — the composition of new music being only one obvious changes. Today, when a vast spectrum of music styles are an available, nearly unavoidable part of everyday life, and when the same piece of music can exist in a number of widely differentiated listening situations, each listener has a great repertoire of modes of listening that correspondes to the great repertoire of styles of music and listening situations in the everyday soundscape.
  • 132. Each hearing person….has been forced (in order to be able to handle her or his perceptions of sounds)—to build up an appreciable competence in translating and using the music impressions that stream in from loudspeakers in almost every living space. Such competence results not primarily from any formalized schooling but from different everyday learning processes as we teach ourselves which of the sounds that ebb and surge across the modern cityscape at every instant of the day should be clustered together and understood as music and which should be understood as something else; which different types of music correlate with which activity and which subculture; which type of intramusical meanings attach to different types of sounds in different musical contexts.

    Here I am struck by the contrast with the musical philosophy of John Cage, who insisted that there is no essential distinction between music non-musical sounds; that therefore this competence is ultimately misleading. See for example this startlingly eloquent, apparently casual commentary from an interview in his kitchen:

  • 133. [T]he situation in which one encounters music conditions the music itself. Particularly with regard to music within the communal repertoire, one can even assume that daily listening is often more conditioned by the situation in which one meets the music than by the music itself, or by the listener’s primary cultural identity….
  • 134. [T]he listener’s choice of strategies is not entirely free. It can be impossible, for example, to choose to listen in an autonomously reflexive mode if too many other things are competing for attention, and impossible to refuse to listen…to very strong and profiled sounds, or to musemes with a special significance for the listener. Different listeners are also conscious to different degrees of their own choice of mode of listening, and are moreover able to adapt a chosen mode of listening in different situations in relation to different types of sound structures.
  • 135. Today one can hear almost any style of music in any surrounding and in any situation. The sound of big opera ensembles can be fitted onto a wind-surfing board, and the sound of a nylon-stringed guitar can fill a football stadium…. This situation is still quite novel.
  • 136. For each musical genre, a number of listening situations in a given historical situation constitute the genre-specific relation between music and listener. These determine the genre-defining property and the ideal relation between music and listener that were presumed in the formation of the musical style—in the composing, the arranging, the performance, the programming of the music. I have chosen to call these genre-normative listening situations.
  • 137. Adequate listening … occurs when one listens to music according to the exigencies of a given social situation and according to the predominant sociocultural conventions fo the subculture to which the music belongs.
  • 137. It means that one masters and develops the ability to listen for what is relevant to the genre in the music, for what is adequate to understanding according to the specific genre’s comprehensible context. Adequate listening is not a prerequisite of assimilating ro enjoying music, of learning how to recognize musical styles, or how to create meaning fro oneself from what music expresses; it is a prerequisite of using music as a language in a broader sense, as a medium fro real communication from composer, musician, or programmer to audience/listener.
  • 138. Adequate listening is hence always in the broadest sense ideological: it relates to a set of opinions belonging to a social group about ideal relations between individuals, between individuals and cultural expression, and between the cultural expressions and the construction of society.
  • 139. Analysis of a musical genre, or of a work in a musical genre, must contain and be based on analysis of the listening adequate to that genre.
  • 139. Analysis of music in everyday listening situations must be based on listening adequate to the given situation.
  • 143. In the same way that we must listen to the urban soundscape as “music” in order to make it more human, thereby developing the competence to draw up active goals for the “composition” of a more human sound environment, we must develop the competence to listen to that music precisely as a part of the soundscape in order to explain and change the position of the music in this soundscape.

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