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Alvin Lucier, "Vespers and Other Early Works"
New World
These five Lucier pieces dating from 1961 to 1970 provide handyillustrations of my love-hate relationship with American academicmusic. Its central Theory versus Music dialectic is interesting. Is thetheory on which music is based important? If so, to whom? If a CD makesno sense aesthetically or otherwise until the liner notes are read (andthe liner notes are in this elevated domain unquestionably important)what does that say about the music? Does the pleasure of listeningdepend on the theory or should the pleasure be sought in the theoryitself? The first illustration on this CD is "Vespers" (1969) whichinvolves performers moving around a given acoustic space withdirectional pulse generators. I liked the piece before I read the notesbut I find it makes even more interesting listening how that I have.The piece demonstrates the theory that humans perceive physical spacethrough our sense of hearing. Without the theory, it's fifteen minutesof attractive clicking sounds but with the theory the listener becomesconsciously involved by providing and operating the apparatus for theperceptual half of the experiment, which can lead to deeperunderstanding and pleasure—it's rather like having impressionistpainting explained to you for the first time. Implication: theory canenhance music. "Chambers" (1968) illustrates another point; beforereading my response was: sounds okay, nice enough. It involves variousrecordings of sound spaces, such as a railway station, cafeteria orwhat-have-you, playing on portable devices, disguised in some kind ofwrapping, that are placed within the performance sound space—thuschambers (i.e. acoustic spaces) within chambers. Now that's fine andperhaps even witty, in a rather twee academic way, but grasping theconcept doesn't improve the listening experience and I'm beginning toget annoyed by the suggestion that the concept is even relevant to me.Implication: theory doesn't always enhance music and can detract. Onyet another hand, "North American Time Capsule" (1967), a performanceon the archaic Sylvania encrypting voice encoder without thecorresponding decoder, is unlistenable with or without the various deepand interesting levels of meaning provided by its associated theory.Implication: theory cannot enhance bad music. "(Middletown) MemorySpace" (1970) is scripted thus: a number of singers and/orinstrumentalists go out into a city and "record, by anymeans—electronic recording, graphic notation, or memory—the sounds ofthe city," return and "re-create, solely my means of your voices andinstruments and with the aid of memory devices (without additions,deletions, improvisation, interpretation) those outside soundsituations." On this performance the music sounds like rather dullimprov. Contemplating the composition (i.e. the instructions) providesa better distraction than the music: can it be done?; does it matter atall if it can't?; is the absurd impossibility of the parenthetical"without" clause another joke?; is this what group improv sounds likewhen exerting personality and thus interaction is explicitlyforbidden?; what must it be like to be paid to think about thesethings? And there we have, I fear, the crucible of my irritation:jealousy. These Cagian exercises must surely be great fun for thecomposer and may even be pleasing for the performers but the disregardfor whether or not the music will be any good to listen to is a littleirksome to the mere audience member. The implication is that composingand being a composer is more important than being a listener, eventhough the former is existentially dependent on the latter (composingfor its own sake has little to do with music). Such elitism isjustifiable and I am thankful for it when the resulting art is good andvaluable. But when it is not, which is not the exceptional case inAmerican academic music, I find that I cannot discard it without envy.
These five Lucier pieces dating from 1961 to 1970 provide handyillustrations of my love-hate relationship with American academicmusic. Its central Theory versus Music dialectic is interesting. Is thetheory on which music is based important? If so, to whom? If a CD makesno sense aesthetically or otherwise until the liner notes are read (andthe liner notes are in this elevated domain unquestionably important)what does that say about the music? Does the pleasure of listeningdepend on the theory or should the pleasure be sought in the theoryitself? The first illustration on this CD is "Vespers" (1969) whichinvolves performers moving around a given acoustic space withdirectional pulse generators. I liked the piece before I read the notesbut I find it makes even more interesting listening how that I have.The piece demonstrates the theory that humans perceive physical spacethrough our sense of hearing. Without the theory, it's fifteen minutesof attractive clicking sounds but with the theory the listener becomesconsciously involved by providing and operating the apparatus for theperceptual half of the experiment, which can lead to deeperunderstanding and pleasure—it's rather like having impressionistpainting explained to you for the first time. Implication: theory canenhance music. "Chambers" (1968) illustrates another point; beforereading my response was: sounds okay, nice enough. It involves variousrecordings of sound spaces, such as a railway station, cafeteria orwhat-have-you, playing on portable devices, disguised in some kind ofwrapping, that are placed within the performance sound space—thuschambers (i.e. acoustic spaces) within chambers. Now that's fine andperhaps even witty, in a rather twee academic way, but grasping theconcept doesn't improve the listening experience and I'm beginning toget annoyed by the suggestion that the concept is even relevant to me.Implication: theory doesn't always enhance music and can detract. Onyet another hand, "North American Time Capsule" (1967), a performanceon the archaic Sylvania encrypting voice encoder without thecorresponding decoder, is unlistenable with or without the various deepand interesting levels of meaning provided by its associated theory.Implication: theory cannot enhance bad music. "(Middletown) MemorySpace" (1970) is scripted thus: a number of singers and/orinstrumentalists go out into a city and "record, by anymeans—electronic recording, graphic notation, or memory—the sounds ofthe city," return and "re-create, solely my means of your voices andinstruments and with the aid of memory devices (without additions,deletions, improvisation, interpretation) those outside soundsituations." On this performance the music sounds like rather dullimprov. Contemplating the composition (i.e. the instructions) providesa better distraction than the music: can it be done?; does it matter atall if it can't?; is the absurd impossibility of the parenthetical"without" clause another joke?; is this what group improv sounds likewhen exerting personality and thus interaction is explicitlyforbidden?; what must it be like to be paid to think about thesethings? And there we have, I fear, the crucible of my irritation:jealousy. These Cagian exercises must surely be great fun for thecomposer and may even be pleasing for the performers but the disregardfor whether or not the music will be any good to listen to is a littleirksome to the mere audience member. The implication is that composingand being a composer is more important than being a listener, eventhough the former is existentially dependent on the latter (composingfor its own sake has little to do with music). Such elitism isjustifiable and I am thankful for it when the resulting art is good andvaluable. But when it is not, which is not the exceptional case inAmerican academic music, I find that I cannot discard it without envy.
