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Orchestra Tech: Introducing Technology into the Orchestra

Ray Kurzweil, Gil Rose, and Tod Machover
Ray Kurzweil, Gil Rose, and Tod Machover

Ray Kurzweil, Gil Rose, and Tod Machover

September 24, 2001

Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Cambridge, MA

Moderated and Videotaped by Frank J. Oteri

Transcribed by Amanda MacBlane

RAY KURZWEIL: Well, you can approach that at different levels. At a simple level, it’s a collection of human musicians using music controllers to create music. The 19th-century technology hadn’t necessarily linked between the physics of creative sound and the method of controlling, so you had to play a flute to create flute sounds. With 20th-century technology we’ve begun to break that nexus between the controllers and the sounds, so you can use different types of controllers, you can use a flute-like controller to create voice sounds and you can certainly use a keyboard to create virtually any sound. And it also allows the creation of controllers that are optimized for the human factors of creating sound that are not necessarily linked to 19th-century acoustic instruments. There is, however, a lot of musical tradition and musical knowledge in both the music-appreciating audience and musicians who create music in the orchestra using 19th-century instruments. So a lot of our musical understanding comes from that tradition because that tradition has been evolving. That’s one aspect of western music and culture in general — that it’s constantly shifting, but has its roots in tradition. So certainly we can take small steps and add electronic instruments alongside the traditional acoustic instruments and many orchestras have done that, it’s just simple augmentation. If you go away from classical symphony orchestras to more practical orchestras, such as the small orchestras associated with Broadway plays and so on, they take advantage of the ability of electronic synthesizers at a minimum to emulate lots of instruments so that they can put out a rich sound with a relatively small number of musicians. But in keeping with the ever-shifting and evolving nature of music in our society, it’s keeping its roots in the past while it’s birthing new forms, and the technology is allowing us to create music with an ever-growing palette of sound, sound modification tools, different types of controllers, non-real time forms of creating music, so that you can use sequencers and play music in non-real time; you can go back to cell modification and really massage your work in non-real-time and then combine some non-real-time programming with real-time performance. So we have many new options today but the concept of an orchestra has never been fixed. Consider, the orchestra underwent evolution until it reached its modern form earlier this century.

GIL ROSE: Well, the question you’re asking is about the word “orchestra” and how it resonates with the public at large. And my feeling is that in the year 2001, the word orchestra means many more things than it did even 20 years ago, or 50 years ago, or 100 years ago. I mean, the history of our musical culture in the last 100 years as far as ensembles go is breaking down into smaller and smaller and smaller subsets. At the beginning of the century, there was your standard symphony orchestra, your opera company, and various accepted chamber music forms, string quartet, blah, blah, blah, and the trio, and this and that, but partially as different instruments were involved and partially as technology and electronics were involved we started to break into an even wider group of sets. And even in this day, in 2001, there are a lot of different kinds of orchestras out there and this, I think, will ultimately be an interesting point when you start relating it to the relationship of technology into the orchestra world. What is the orchestra world? Is the orchestra world the large, established, well-endowed symphony orchestras? Yes, to a majority of the public. Is there a subculture of orchestras out there that are regional or have a different budgetary level which makes their constraints and relationship to the public different? Or are there specific groups like ACO or my orchestra in Boston that are specifically trying to drive an agenda to create a different kind of orchestra but still have the large orchestral body, and there’s the chamber orchestra and the new music group and the this and the that and there’s so many different little groups that have come into having their own kind of definition, you know, this kind of thing or that kind of thing. They have their own little clique and their own little way of operating and they’re seen by the public in a certain way. Almost each of those different groups has become so well-defined that they have different potentials for integration of technology and some have greater restrictions. And sometimes the most financially sound ones are the ones that have the biggest barriers to taking risks and engulfing technology and new ways of thinking. And sometimes the ones that are on the lower end of the feeding chain economically can’t do it for other reasons, because technology and integrating it brings its own set of circumstances. So I think that there is no one orchestra. But in the general public’s mind, there still is one orchestra. There’s the Boston Symphony, New York Philharmonic, and the Philadelphia Orchestra and these major symphonic institutions. But there’s also a definite upsurge in the base of support and the audience for what we could call the alternative orchestra.

RAY KURZWEIL: It kind of sparked one thought. Just that the word “orchestra” does tend to imply a connotation of a more traditional kind of music because there’s a whole other world of commercial music, many different forms of popular music, which itself has been splintering into many different genres, which don’t have a lot of tradition behind them and have been very quick to experiment and become in fact very electronic. And a majority of commercial music is electronic and can experiment quite freely with different forms and different timbres. The concept of an “orchestra” does imply a tradition.

TO
D MACHOVER:
Clearly there are all kinds of ensembles called orchestras that are all sizes and forms and contexts… I think the thing that’s interesting and maybe what has interested me in this particular project is that what we think of as the traditional symphony orchestra is the largest number of people and is maybe the most fixed structure. For all kinds of reasons, that’s the organization and the culture that has found it hardest to integrate technology in any way. But in almost every other form of music, there are lots of reasons both musically and conceptually why if you have five players or ten players, there are obvious ways that you’d want to use technology to augment and fill and it’s just clear. Just as if you are an independent composer at home and you want to try your pieces out, it’s obvious that you need these resources. If you’re a symphony orchestra, you have almost every practical consideration going against you to try anything really different.

TOD MACHOVER: It’s interesting to ask what technology could bring to a symphony orchestra.

GIL ROSE: It’s also interesting to ask what people who go to a symphony orchestra are looking for. Because sometimes you’re talking completely from an acoustical sense… The pressure that comes to bear on an orchestra, on the institution of the orchestra, comes from a constituency of both audience members and supporters. What is their relationship with technology? If they could be somehow more related to technology, then the whole process might happen a lot faster. We have to accept this, ’cause that’s where the bottom line decision is.

RAY KURZWEIL: That’s true. There are two reasons why you might want to use synthesizers. One is cost savings. One synthesizer can create a whole string section or a horn section and can replace multiple instruments and musicians. That application is used commonly by small orchestras, especially in Broadway shows where you have four or five musicians who need to sound like the whole orchestra. At a traditional classical orchestra like the Boston Symphony, they don’t have that pressure. The other purpose of the synthesizer, and electronic music in general, is to create new types of sounds that you can’t make with violins and guitars and pianos. And to take advantage of the great palette of sounds on applications, sequencing techniques, and so forth. And for that you need a body of music and musical tradition. The symphony-going public wants a certain repertoire, most of which is classical and doesn’t call for these new sounds. There’s a tradition of modern music that can make use of it, but the repertoire of classical music incorporating new forms and new sounds that would require electronic music is limited although growing. Even more limited is the public appreciation of the symphony orchestra.

TOD MACHOVER: I think we’re at a crossroads where technology brings into focus this question of whether traditional orchestras are going to be vibrant living organizations of the 21st century that continue building the repertoire, or are they going to rest on past repertoire. Boulez has talked for years about orchestras little by little having various sub-ensembles: you’d have a full symphony concert, but you might have a chamber orchestra concert or mixed pieces on one concert. And I think not integrating technology in some ways, not providing the right forum for composers to be invited to create work… Right now there isn’t that much repertoire for full orchestra and technology because composers aren’t stupid. It’s hard enough to go out and get work done. I’m one of the dumber ones who keeps trying to do these things. But it’s hard. People don’t have rehearsal time. The conditions aren’t really right, so we have to change that.

RAY KURZWEIL: I would hope that that would happen because otherwise the traditional symphony orchestra is just going to become sort of a relic for preserving this old tradition and it’s not going to remain a vibrant new art form. It certainly made its way back in the Beatles‘ days into popular music that used traditional rock instruments. There were many pioneers, but the Beatles played a role in introducing to the public the idea of a wider palette of sounds that invariably get explored today. But classical music really needs to move in this direction as well and use all of the sound notation tools.

TOD MACHOVER: Just last night I was thinking about the Beatles. This week, I happened to be teaching the great period of Stockhausen and Boulez and Xenakis, the guys in the ’50s and ’60s who brought electronic music to the public. The Beatles are an interesting case because in those days, it’s all documented, Paul McCartney used to go all the time to see Stockhausen concerts and Berio concerts. And he knew that music, he and John Lennon knew that music pretty well. They were up on the latest electronic thing, so when they did Sgt. Pepper’s and moved away from live performance into studio things, they weren’t ripping off Stockhausen and Berio, but they got a lot of inspiration from them and really admired them. These days, it almost also happens the opposite way around. You’re absolutely right, in general, the people who’ve understood and capitalized on technology faster have been in the entertainment and pop industry and especially orchestras, of all institutions, are lagging way behind. Except for Gil’s, most of them!

RAY KURZWEIL: People who represent the market for symphony orchestras are sophisticated. They’re certainly familiar with popular music and synthesizers and they’d like to keep the tradition alive. I think you could hardly write really modern music without incorporating the more expressive technology that is now available.

GIL ROSE: I think you’re right. I think this is an interesting point, though, because I hear this point made often: that people attending orchestra concerts are ripe for the picking. They understand this, they come from a culture that understands this; they all fit a profile where that should make sense. So why doesn’t it happen? Where’s the missing link? One of the missing links, and I’m going to get a little negative here, is the leadership at some of the levels, in some of the more traditional, let’s say standard orchestras, where they feel they are unable to take certain risks because there’s a minority which would be unaccepting of this, but they’re a vocal minority. They’re the ones that slam the doors when they walk out of concerts, they’re the ones that call and threaten to pull their subscriptions and/or their contributions. They’re a very, very vocal minority but I think you’re absolutely right, the ground is well-laid. It applies to technology ’cause it’s the focus of our discussion, but it also applies to using the influences of indigenous music and from all sorts of musical melting pots that could enliven and grow the orchestra. But why doesn’t that happen? It’s a good question.

TOD MACHOVER: I think there are a lot of reasons, which are ones that are f
un to talk about. Besides the question of rehearsal time, there are two things that come to mind… One I don’t have a good answer to but I’d love to know what you think, the second, I’ll suggest… One is the standardization of technology. One of the reasons an orchestra does so well is that the instruments have evolved, but they’ve evolved at a reasonable speed and once the brass instruments got to a certain point, they stayed that way for awhile. Technology, every stage of it, whether it’s the synths or the cables or the mixing desks… First of all, they become obsolete quickly and just literally, it changes. Gil and I did a concert last May of pieces of mine that were all less than ten years old and we could hardly get them to work anymore mostly because of the computer software, because the Macs didn’t exist. So that’s one question, standardization, what you do with that, because you’re the big master of showing how fast technology actually is changing. Question number two is that there isn’t the same level of professional infrastructure of people in the orchestra or in the orchestra world for that matter, whereas in the pop industry or the movie/entertainment industry, people who create and rehearse know how to make a compromise. UC San Diego is starting a new doctoral program, it’s a program in computer performance, and it’s basically to train people who are kind of the equivalent in skill of a conductor; people who have to know music and they might help a composer realize a piece so that it would sound good, people who would be an interface with an orchestra… They’re actually recommending that orchestras have someone like this on staff at some point. But what about standardization?

RAY KURZWEIL: That’s actually a very important issue, not just in music but in general: the whole issue of the perishability of digital information. We have this idea that once we have something in digital form it could potentially last forever and certainly software does outlive the hardware it lives on. If you replace your personal computer, you don’t trash all of your files, you copy them over, so your files have a longevity that goes beyond the hardware they live on and this is segued into the discussion that if we can actually capture the files in our own brains, our “mindfile” can live beyond the hardware that we’ve lived on, but that’s a different discussion, but it had brought up the issue that information doesn’t necessarily live forever, in fact it doesn’t last very long at all. And if you ever try to reconstruct some file from ten to fifteen years ago of Wordstar or some other word processing document, or a piece of music, sequence files or something, which would be even more obscure because you probably were using some low distribution piece of software and the company doesn’t even exist anymore and you’ve got many layers of software and hardware to get, you’re going to get this old computer and this old operating system and the application and the application files and get the media to work. And you can try reconstructing information on some old 8″ disc platters and that’s a really difficult problem. In my work now, we’re looking at some databases. We want to actually exist 20 years from now. We’re thinking, what the heck system can we possibly use that we can be sure will exist 20 years from now. The conclusion we came to is there isn’t one. The only way to have that information last is if in fact people care about it for the next 20 years and therefore, continue to maintain it, pour it into the next operating system, the next database version and so the basics or the moral of this is that if this information lasts, if someone cares about it, ’cause otherwise it will quickly grow obsolete. The point you made about music software, equipment, getting up old instruments which involve software, different layers, is one example of this fairly pervasive problem. The other issue is that you have this pretty well-established, very finely tuned tradition with the role of conductors and all the musicians know what they’re doing and there’s a whole body of music and there needs to be some musical bridge to incorporate these new forms but there isn’t. But I would hope it would come from the world of modern music, which has been experimental. We could say they do breakdown these traditions. Certainly, they have forms that are very different or we use different sets of instruments, so why not incorporate electronic instruments, not simply to create acoustic sounds which acoustic instruments can still do somewhat better, but to actually incorporate the very rich sounds that are impossible with acoustic instruments. You can create sounds that have the complexity and richness and enharmonicity of the piano, but it’s not a piano, it could only come from a synthesizer. Maybe it started with a piano, but it’s been modified in various ways so it maintains that complexity and richness and musical relevance and is now something new. And then the artist has to come in and make some artistic statement that is relevant, but it is a great expansion of the palette and possibilities.

TOD MACHOVER: Gil, I was going to ask you, relating to this question of a new kind of training. You’re a good example of someone who’s trained in traditional music and then traditional contemporary music, but has done more and more technology. I was just wondering, what about technology do you feel you’ve started to understand and what do you still need to understand?

GIL ROSE: Yeah, that’s a good question I think, because if there’s a barrier to realizing more the technological use in the orchestra world, it’s probably conductors who are the barrier and administrators who are at the decision-making level and function the same way as artistic administrators. If they don’t have experience and/or an interest, it can be a little bit frightening. I’ve learned a lot in the last couple of years, but I’m really basically still a novice in so many ways. But the one thing I learned early on in the process was, if you’re going to do that kind of stuff, to get people around you who know what they’re doing. This thing at UC San Diego is perfect. If there was the will, maybe it was a special series done by orchestras for futuristic music or whatever, and there was the will to do it, having that support mechanism, that support person, is critical. At the little concert we did in May, I learned a lot but still the people who are in the decision-making process with orchestras, at the decision-making pivot points with orchestras, they’re not too experienced in it and it’s a deceivingly complicated question but it’s also a little bit frightening and it looks like it’s going to be a really hard nut to crack for them. Not only handing them music, but all this extra stuff. You know, in May I did two pieces with click tracks and one with an electric thing up the back of my jacket, the back of my shirt, which I get to do again in two to three weeks, and you know, pieces with multiple pianos and computer programs. Again, I’m too stupid for my own good on that front, but I think that if there could be some kind of support mechanism or some technological advisors… In a sense, that’s the role we will play with the ACO in this thing and you’re coming to give a broad overview in your capacity as a composer with them. You know, it can shake the dust off things a little bit. It has to be ultimately brought not only to the decision makers, but also to t
he public. And somebody has to do missionary work. People have to get out there and say, “This is good, interesting, you know, the future and you have to be part of it.” We look for the future and the new thing in the dance world. We look for the future and the new thing in visual arts world. But our musical culture is working in retrograde.

RAY KURZWEIL: You’re addressing some valid political and organizational issues, and you alluded to the composers, but I would say the composer is really the front-line of this. Because the musical knowledge has to come and if you think about how synthesizers are used, they’re very often one-person shows. It’s typical to have people immersed in synthesizers in their bedrooms, which are personal music studios. They’re doing a lot of stuff in non-real-time and they’re creating a whole work and maybe if it’s a popular piece, they may have a guitar or a drum part and they’re arranging it on their home music work station, but the concept of an orchestra implies more than one person, in fact, more than two or three people, it implies a fairly large ensemble. Tod, you’ve done more pioneering in this area, but there needs to be a cadre of composers who can lead the way and provide the compositions for multiple musician ensembles that would deserve the name orchestra, that would make use out of this great power of possibilities.

GIL ROSE: If the composers are writing for the large symphony orchestra, it’s for a broad-based public, even if they’re a small percentage of the general music-listening public. The music has to be of the highest quality and also somehow reach the audience. I would be interested to hear what Mario Davidovsky has to say about this because the history of technology’s use in music was really sheltered in academia for a long time. I mean, it came out of Columbia-Princeton in a way…

TOD MACHOVER: It was a little different in Europe…

GIL ROSE: Yeah, it actually was, but still… Ticket sales were not a big issue for Otto Luening. It was not something that probably crossed his mind a lot. But it’s a big issue for the manager of the Cleveland Orchestra and reaching out to the public and integrating technology and musical language, which is one of the things that Tod does so well. He uses a technological argument and the music that supports it is both interesting to the most hard-crusted new music person as well as somebody who is walking into the hall and getting an auditory experience for the first time. So, those uses, you may not get a whole lot of, you may not get a lot of “at-bats” is what I’m saying, and we need to be careful… It has to be the highest quality.

TOD MACHOVER: I do want to say that this question of “at-bats” is actually what’s important because there are so many simple things that make it difficult, besides the actual music you’re writing, just to make this new blend really click. One thing that always bothers me, one of the reasons why I got into this work and what’s still elusive is that when you talk about an orchestra, it involves a lot of individuals shaping their own world and fitting it in with others. A synthesizer is really more like an organ, it’s out of size, it makes more sound and more texture than one person. When you’ve got acoustic sounds and then amplified sounds on stage, first of all they don’t mix very well, they just don’t sound that good together. If you’re used to putting on a rock concert, there’s a developed sense that the people on stage have monitors, they have a partial idea of what the whole sounds like and then you’ve got people mixing in the back of the room. You’ve got a symphony orchestra, with a highly trained person like Gil conducting people on stage who have spent their whole lives judging on stage what they are playing, how it relates, how it all sounds, how it projects out. And it’s the craziest thing, I can go into a context like that and put in two loudspeakers, nothing more than that, and all of a sudden, Gil has to rely on somebody else to shape part of the texture, the musicians feel like something’s been taken away from their autonomy, which in fact it has. The people on stage don’t hear exactly what the audience hears. That’s a dumb silly little thing, but we really haven’t solved it. We haven’t solved how we make amplified sounds that blend well and can be measured by the performers on stage so they can adjust to each other. Those are things that you just can’t do without having the “at-bats,” and I’m a smart guy, but you can’t imagine that without having some rehearsal time, without trying things out and making mistakes.

GIL ROSE: If Mario was here, he would’ve almost given that same answer about his Synchronisms No. 10 for Orchestra and Tape because he’s told me that. I tried to get him to let us do it in May and he said, he had pulled the piece because it didn’t work…

TOD MACHOVER: What about it didn’t work?

GIL ROSE: It was too hard for the orchestra to adjust and too hard for the orchestra to hear the tape and too hard to make an interaction. I don’t want to put words in his mouth.

TOD MACHOVER: That’s something that Ray can solve, it’s a tough one.

RAY KURZWEIL: Well, you can go all the way and have everybody creating electronic sounds including traditional musicians who understand, let’s say, flute technique and they use flute controllers…

GIL ROSE: Who gets to talk to the union president?

FRANK J. OTERI: In the very beginning of this history of the orchestra and technology, there were these almost novelty instruments like the theremin and the Ondes-Martinot that would be played with an orchestra for some weird effect. Later, there was a repertoire of orchestra and tape pieces where a lot of the time the two parts had nothing to do with each other. The orchestra would play for five minutes and then the tape would play for five minutes…

RAY KURZWEIL: Yeah, in the ’50s there was a lot of that…

FRANK J. OTERI: Then they started coming together and only with the third generation of people writing this stuff did people actually think of this idea of modifying the actual orchestral instruments and having more integrated interfaces…

TOD MACHOVER: That’s not very satisfactory either because until now and even now it’s very hard to modify acoustic instruments without knowing anything about their signal or about what’s being played. It’s like sending everything into a blender, and you have the blender set to some speed and everything gets processed the same way, unless you know what all the notes are, unless you have as much information as your ear does basically, and that’s just hard to do. So that’s not usually very satisfactory.

RAY KURZWEIL: Are there examples that you could point to in the traditional great symphony orchestras or maybe in some other type of orchestra that have done this well, that might be an example to follow?

GIL ROSE: I think that Turangalîla wo
rks pretty well actually. Having conducted it, it actually works pretty well. It acoustically balances in really well because the lone speaker usually goes behind the orchestra.

TOD MACHOVER: I think the examples that work are probably concerto type examples or where you have a solo instrument. One thing I was going to say when you talked about this model of maybe everybody playing a new kind of instrument… At some point that might be possible. Symphony orchestras, even though they might be dinosaurs, have got some good things going for them. One of the things is the sound blends; acoustic sounds fill a room in such a complex way. As I said before it’s not just one signal it is all these, although if you’re not a trained musician, you probably can’t pick out what some violinist in the middle of a section is doing, it makes a difference that there are that many people who are trying to play together and we’re also used to what they do on their instruments…

RAY KURZWEIL: There’s no reason why you can’t have lots of point sources of sound, each musician could have his own speaker.

TOD MACHOVER: That hasn’t worked so well yet… It’s another thing your company could do. There really haven’t been any fundamental, radical breakthroughs in speaker technology in a long time and most speakers, actually all speakers that I’ve ever heard, don’t have that complexity of sound emanation. Also, the fact that it’s coming from you and not somebody else. It all becomes a little gray even with very good speakers. So it hasn’t worked so well to have just a lot of them. That’s what we do in Resurrection, we have a lot of small speakers in the pit and it works better, but still…

RAY KURZWEIL: That’s a good step. People haven’t done it, I think, because it’s expensive and they haven’t bothered and they assume you only need two speakers.

TOD MACHOVER: Cables are always a weak link.

GIL ROSE: Even this kind of technological support is an obstacle. We did this concert in May at Symphony Hall and we found out that the beautiful speakers at Symphony Hall were mono; they had to rewire them. I mean, if Symphony Hall doesn’t have a good playback, how can you expect the Charleston Symphony or the Indiana this or the Kentucky that…

FRANK J. OTERI: Which begs the question, what is the ideal venue for this kind of interaction? More than likely, it’s not the 19th century conception for a concert hall.

TOD MACHOVER: It’s a good question. I would say that electronics tend to work best in modest size dry halls.

RAY KURZWEIL: Places that use electronic and acoustic instruments routinely together are the Broadway theatres and they do that all the time and it sounds good for what it is. Is there something we can learn from that? Are they providing some kind of example…

TOD MACHOVER: I haven’t been to a show in a while. Does it really sound good? I mean, I’m sure it sounds good, but…

RAY KURZWEIL: It’s sounds appropriate…

GIL ROSE: They have speakers to enhance the sound.

TOD MACHOVER: Broadway shows have smaller orchestras…

GIL ROSE: It’s a financial matter also. I mean, they use it as a supplement, they have 14 people there instead of 22.

TOD MACHOVER: I can’t think of a single example of a full orchestra which is amplified or integrated with electronics, probably in the Hollywood Bowl you could find something that, where you’ve got a large orchestra for a film score being played that has synths and electronics and…

RAY KURZWEIL: All concert halls are amplified; singers have microphones. There’s very little, if any, real projection in their voices, it’s all picked up by microphones and even acoustic instruments are miked. And what you hear in the audience is from a speaker system.

TOD MACHOVER: I can think of two pieces that worked really great, but neither is for full orchestra. One is Boulez‘s Répons, which is for chamber orchestra. It’s pretty cool actually. I saw it at Symphony Hall where they took out all the seats. The orchestra of about thirty players is in the middle, the audience sits around that and then six solo instruments with speakers all over are behind you. And that works well because it’s not meant to blend but the orchestra in the middle has enough presence, especially if you play in Symphony Hall, it resonates nicely. Then you have this other layer behind you; it’s terrific! And then I heard Golijov‘s St. Mark’s Passion. Again, not a large ensemble, maybe 20 players and singers, but all amplified at Symphony Hall and all amplified and it sounded great! Beautifully done amplification… But I can’t think of a single case where an orchestra is actually fully amplified, even delicately, with extra sounds added in a symphonic context. It’s just almost never done. Who’s got the microphones? Who’s got the technique to do that for an orchestra? And that’s what we want to do now, but it’s not that easy to do.

GIL ROSE: I think the standardization issue is an expensive proposition for a hall or an institution like an orchestra to equip for this and then it’s really disappointing to equip one way and find out composer X from down the street did it, you know, it was VHS versus Beta, and you know, you don’t want to get involved in that and I think that that has caused a certain amount of reticence. But, you know, as these technologies have developed, and people like yourself who are working here, who are working in Paris, and people who are working in San Diego, is there enough integration at that level to unify? Probably not and even if you did, the nature of what you do kind of drives you to do things different and to explore technologies in a different way, so standardization is almost not part of the process and that’s a big obstacle to getting the orchestra world involved because you’re right about what you said: The orchestra is standardized. The basses play, they all have the same number of strings, they sound this way and…

TOD MACHOVER: And we can build on that.

FRANK J. OTERI: And of course, you equip yourself for this new piece of music that Tod or Mario or someone else writes and then you don’t use that technology for the Brahms‘ symphony that’s on the second half of the program. Tod made a comment earlier on about brass instruments and how they evolved during the 19th century. To the nay-sayers who say that the meat and potatoes of the symphony o
rchestra concert are the Beethoven and Brahms symphonies, the standard 19th-century central European repertoire, you can say, ok, wait a minute…you play Mozart with this orchestra, and a lot of orchestras still will play Bach on an orchestra that is in fact a late-19th-century ensemble using 19th-century technologies such as valved brass instruments, Boehm-keyed woodwind instruments, etc. What else could technology for the orchestra go? If we have contact microphones on every instrument in the orchestra of the mid-21st century, why not also enhance, maybe enhance isn’t the right word, “contemporarify” the so-called standard repertoire of the past?

RAY KURZWEIL: Well, my father used to play the Brandenburg concertos on piano rather than harpsichord and he got a lot of flack for that but felt that it really was much more expressive and that Bach would’ve used the piano had he had the opportunity.

TOD MACHOVER: He would have really gotten flack now because it’s gone so far in the other direction, but I understand.

RAY KURZWEIL: And at least to my ear, I might be biased, I can really hear Bach’s vision much more readily with the piano than harpsichord, which seems to blend all the sounds together. But I would think that the greatest potential for blending though for electronic music and the symphony orchestra tradition would be new forms of music that really take advantage of what these instruments can do, because these instruments can create all kinds of complex, rich sounds that you just can’t do with an acoustic instrument. They can provide playing techniques that aren’t otherwise feasible. They can have virtual instruments such as Tod has pioneered where the musician is doing something with the controller and there is some intelligence in the instrument that can then augment, and add additional sounds; figure out walking bass lines and other types of odd rhythmic transformations of what the musician is able to do, thereby creating sounds and sequences and note sequences, that a human couldn’t do because we don’t have the dexterity or the training, etc., etc. It has just widened the palette. So just kind of miking traditional instruments or replacing a flute with a flute controller that goes through a synthesizer to create flute sounds, is not really the potential of this.

TOD MACHOVER: We’ve been talking about how things might change on stage, how things might change for a composer, but what about for audiences in terms of the experience actually in the hall? Arguably, our whole idea of what it means to go to a concert is in itself a 19th-century idea: the fact that you sit in the audience, that the performers are up on stage and you have one perspective. I think that even if you’ve grown up listening to CDs or radios, and Symphony Hall is a particular case, but even the sound is kind of up there on stage, so I’m wondering how technology might actually increase the impact of actually being in a hall with other people, what that might be, and whether you might hear differently.

RAY KURZWEIL: Well, I think the genre is about having multiple musicians interact in real-time, perhaps with some pre-programmed elements, perhaps some sequences or software that’s been prepared ahead of time, but that you have real time musical intelligence in multiple musicians and probably that’s going to come most easily not by starting with the traditional 19th-century orchestra and or at least as we know it in the 20th century, and trying to modify it, to add these new elements. Generally if you have a concert that involves synthesizers it’s just one synthesizer, maybe two, and very often it’s in the context of sort of contemporary music, but out of the tradition of classical music or any tradition, to have the key concept of an orchestra, which is a substantial number of people, you know, ten, twenty people interacting with electronic technology, you know, forget being limited by the tradition of the classical orchestra but have that concept of many people interacting, but using electronic instruments.

GIL ROSE: It seems that technological uses have kind of broken into two camps, too. There seems to be the enhancement camp and the more pure form of making something new. There’s always this idea, and we’ve been talking mostly about acoustic realizations and technology, but video realizations will kind of get to your question. There’s a certain school of thought, which says you know, all of a sudden we want a screen behind and we live in a world and our future audiences are people that are impacted by audio-visual information all the time. I was fascinated to see on CNN, Headline News has all of a sudden gone to a format where there are four screens. There’s a ticker on the bottom and then the stock quotes here and this thing here and that thing there and they evidently made this. They summarized that people are able to obtain more information and it can actually keep them from clicking channels so much if, instead of one talking head, you’re giving them four pieces of information. That same logic has been applied to get people into the audience. You put a screen in the back and you’ve got this interpretive art thing while the music’s playing and that’s the technological thing. I always wonder how we’re going to keep them down on the farm once they’ve seen Berlioz. If you go too far in trying to hold their hand and coddle them, though, you’re going to take away the primary acoustic relationship of listening to an orchestra. If you give them so many bells and whistles to get them in the door, how are they ever going to focus on Brahms?

RAY KURZWEIL: One thing along those lines that has emerged in some of the dance clubs has been having multiple motion capture devices. And there are different types of motion capture. There can be quite a few degrees of freedom, in terms of moving the different limbs, connected either to different synthesizer parameters or triggers, to trigger whole sequences or interacting with algorithmic elements. But you see these people moving and they are triggering and controlling the music and after a while you actually understand what it is. OK, this is a synthesizer parameter and when he goes like this it’s triggering a sequence and some other movement is the amplitude of the pitch. So you quickly learn how it is they’re interacting with music, but it’s actually an exciting blend of dance and musical expression.

GIL ROSE: You can really attract people for the long hall with that kind of thing if it’s part of an original composition, but I think that when you start sprucing up Night on Bald Mountain in this way, you’re really belittling the experience. And also you’re setting up an expectation level which you’re just never going to satisfy… It’s like Disney, one of those theme park
rides
where things are poking you from the seat and there’s steam coming out. We’re trying to make this whole 3-D technological realization while what we should be concentrating on is getting people involved in listening to music and using technology to do it. It’s just that there’s a whole set of barriers. But I think that just about every barrier there is could be circumnavigated simply by creating a public will to make exploring new ideas the norm as it used to be as opposed to what it is now. It is very strange heretical talk that anybody would suggest that a symphony orchestra should play 90 percent new music and 10 percent old music like they did in Beethoven‘s day. You know, it was a pretty good time for music. You know, we developed a lot of good stuff with that recipe. Why is that such a hard argument to make? And if we can’t finally make that argument, what hope is there for any of these ideas? We’re just going to be at the whim of things other than the public force. The funding starts to dictate all of the issues. If we can take it into the public arena in a way which puts real momentum behind what we do, it will all come out fine.

 

FRANK J. OTERI: I want to say something potentially even more heretical. I want to take it even further along. Older concert halls are not ideal for new music. Maybe the whole notion of concerts, which is a very 19th century idea is outmoded. Very early on in the discussion, Ray used the term “real time input” for performance. Now you can listen to music on a home stereo system or on the radio or on the Web, and other technologies will develop in the future. Maybe what we’re looking for in this new orchestral music, this new orchestra tech music is not necessarily a live concert hall experience. Maybe the ideal realm where this will work acoustically is either in a recorded format or some other non-concert hall type format.

RAY KURZWEIL: People are creating many new forms of music. A lot of the musical creativity is in experimental music, popular music, and many different genres. I imagine in Beethoven’s day you had folk music and classical music and his contemporaries were the cutting edge of the popular music. A least, that kind of folk music at that time. But the tradition that has come up from those classical traditions is not the only place where music is being created. As you say, a lot is being created, in terms of finished pieces of music, in non-real-time and it’s in a recorded form. But that’s not an audience experience. There’s something about a real-time expression of musicians making sounds to communicate in real time with an audience: an emotional, artistic, inspirational message.

TOD MACHOVER: If what you say will happen, and it is happening and will expand, we don’t need an orchestra for that. You could make everything by yourself in a studio. The BBC is a really interesting organization to watch right now. Sometime before next summer, they’re going to launch two new digital TV stations. One is going to be for education; one’s going to be for culture. They’re going to be completely connected with the Web. They’re pushing their own line and they’re really looking at it as a chance to think about how live performance fits into broadcast, fits into enhanced experiences, fits into being there watching something, having something that doesn’t always have to be live, a live kernel that branches out into other forms. And they’re a very interesting organization because they have orchestras and they have a real belief in performance and they also know what studio production is. I personally really believe in live performance. I love studio work, but I love live performance. I love the fact that you have this text that can be changed in different contexts and changed over time and changed for different audiences. I think that it’s a very important part of music, as much as I love studio work.

RAY KURZWEIL: There’s real communication going on in a live performance. An excitement and a chemistry and a magnetism that doesn’t exist in a recording, and so very often then, when you’re trying to capture by recording the live performance, it has certain imperfections. It’s hard to capture that immediacy of the emotional response of a real live audience. But there’s something magical about live performance. I’ve experienced that difference. You’ve got something much more polished, but a recording is a static object.

FRANK J. OTERI: Yeah, well the amazing paradox at this point is that the majority of people have heard the Brahms symphonies through recordings rather than through live performance and ironically, most people have heard the Orchestra Tech-type works through a live performance because most of these works never even get recorded.

TOD MACHOVER: Yeah, that’s funny. Yeah, and actually one of the interesting things about the BBC model is how these different worlds can complement each other better.

GIL ROSE: And maybe this answers this question about how to go forward. It’s not un-historic. The radio orchestras in Europe were much more on the forefront of new music than the Vienna Philharmonic or the Berlin… There was always the Stuttgart Radio Symphony and that’s why there was a certain segment of musicians who really circulated through the radio orchestra networks. And even conductors like Hermann Scherchen, who were ahead of there time as far as integrating technology, really navigated through the radio symphony circles because there was a certain leeway they got there on projects. So maybe that’s the answer; we just have to get the BBC here.

TOD MACHOVER: Yeah, well I was thinking in this country, that kind of thing is so hard; to get media integrated, but you know, BMOP and WGBH. I think WGBH is clearly thinking about online media broadcasts.

GIL ROSE: In the end, it gets back to a certain level of support that the BBC has and again which a good organization used to do things like that. WGBH at one point did a broadcast of Britten‘s last opera Owen Wingrave, which was a television opera. WGBH mounted a production of it and broadcast it on television. Now that was in a different culture thirty years ago than what we have now. It gets back to that cultural question. If we could answer the cultural question we could probably drive the money to the right places, but we live in a country which is all descendents of people who came here for economic independence and low taxes and all of these things that make us Americans and that’s a hard thing to navigate.

 

GIL ROSE: It’s no mistake that a lot of early electronic music grew up in fiscally sound, academic environments, and/or in Europe. Even Koussevitzsky at the Boston Symphony, who was at the forefront of commissioning new music and new works, had no experience with that kind of technology stuff. In his defense, it was a little bit before his time.

FRANK J. OTERI: Bu
t it’s interesting that Stokowski, who was of the same generation, used a theremin to double bass lines with the Philadelphia Orchestra in standard repertoire pieces, which was along the same lines as playing a Bach piece on the piano, playing a work for an earlier version of an instrument on a later version.

GIL ROSE: But it shows you what leadership can do. Stokowski is a great example, much better than Koussevizsky. It shows you leadership, not just leadership on the technological front, but leadership in youth concerts and in experimental music. One stubborn person can make a big difference.

FRANK J. OTERI: I’d like to play Luddite for a minute…

GIL ROSE: What?

TOD MACHOVER: Luddite, anti-technology…

FRANK J. OTERI: And I’m saying this as a fan of technology, as a fan of this music, but I want to turn it around to give voice to the dissenting opinion and talk about music in the future. Is there a place in the future for musical works that do not involve technology on any level?

GIL ROSE: There’s space in the future for every kind of music because Pandora’s box has been opened up. That’s one of the truisms of our musical culture. There are a lot of sources for inspiration. Sometimes you’ll have somebody playing an indigenous instrument who’s electrified it. And there’s other places where people will go in a whole different direction. I can tell you that after having basically conducted and produced a very technologically heavy concert, I really wanted to do something with rocks and sticks.

RAY KURZWEIL: There was a beautiful concert with bamboo flute by an Indian master just last night at MIT… But to respond, there are two connotations of the Luddite challenge: one is employment, which is how the Luddite movement started and the other is technology as an assault on pure, traditional forms, and certainly we see that in music. And sometimes people resent technology as not being consistent with the purity of certain traditions. The Luddite movement started around 1800 in the textile industry in England with these weavers whose families of many generations had enjoyed these livelihoods from a certain guild and craft of weaving which had been turned over on its head by these new automated machines. And it seemed clear to the Luddites that soon employment would be enjoyed by just a small elite because one person could do the work of ten or twenty and the machines were getting more sophisticated, so pretty soon there would be almost no employment. And ironically, employment actually increased and wages went up and there was actually a period of prosperity, which is the main reason why the Luddite movement died along with some violent oppression. A reason for the increase in employment was that new industries were created to create the machines and also it’s human nature. We didn’t create the same number of shirts with a smaller number of workers. Now that the common man and woman could have a well-made shirt, people didn’t want just one shirt, they wanted a whole wardrobe, etc., etc. And if you look at the whole sweep of automation in the last couple hundred years we have actually ten times as many jobs today as we did a hundred and twenty years ago, both on a per capita basis and on an absolute basis. And what we tend to do is automate jobs at the bottom of the skill ladder and create new jobs on the top of the skill ladder, so the whole skill ladder moves up. And we’ve seen that in music. There was a lot of controversy, which I was a part of too, with synthesizers and the union and others. With synthesizers, one person could do the work of ten or twenty, particularly in commercial music where people were used to blowing a trumpet and getting gigs for television commercials, and now they were using synthesizers. This was back in the 1980s. And it’s true. Certain types of gigs, certain kinds of performances were being automated. However, the advent of this technology made music more exciting, particularly in the popular world. A group of three or four musicians could make a much richer, a more complex sound. One musician with a synthesizer could create an interesting soundtrack for movies, so they would actually hire a live musician with a synthesizer rather than using recorded music, which had been the practice up to that time in industrial films and government films and so on. And there actually are more musical opportunities and you can actually measure that economically in terms of financial statistics. Musicians are better off. There’s a lot more excitement in the world of music and there’s more economic activity as a result. As for the cultural challenge, that’s a challenge that exists not just in the world of technology but anytime you have change and there are guardians of the old values and sometimes that gets tense. Sometimes you see that in the world of politics in terms of reactionary forces that resist modernity, change. Sometimes violently, usually not in the world of music but there are guardians of the old traditions and sometimes there’s a resistance to new forms and that’s another aspect of the Luddite issue. Overall, I think, I agree with what you said, that there’ll be room for continued traditions and that the new doesn’t extinguish the old it just provides new options and new alternatives, new ways to express ourselves. Music’s always using the most advanced technology in at least some of the forms. That was true in Beethoven’s day. In the 18th century they used the wood-making crafts and in the 19th century the metal working industries. Then we used analog electronics and now we have the full gamut of digital signal processing to expand, not to replace, the old modalities.

TOD MACHOVER: For the last several years in particular, and I think partly because of being here at the media lab at MIT, I’ve gotten increasingly concerned that, as much as I am interested in technology and love technology, I think technology for the past five years or so, maybe a little longer, has had such a momentum and a tendency to capture the public imagination and grow so fast that in many ways, certain times technology has a tendency to outstrip what we know how to do with it and what we want to do with it and I think it’s had a certain momentum just to come up with advancements for the sake of not just for the markets but for the kind of imaginative sense effective of just doing better. And so I’ve been sort of screaming that especially in the technological context, since we’re in the middle of it here, one of the most important things to remember is what it is you want to get done, what it is you want to express, what it is you want to do and then you feel that you’re looking and that’s obvious. But I think technology has had such a momentum of its own, it’s sometimes hard to remember that. And I think that in the last couple of weeks, about the only positive thing that’s happened so far is that it has shaken so many of us to just simply think back on what we’re here for and what the important things are and I find myself looking for any kind of wisdom that I can find anywhere, how to view what’s going on or how to just go day by day in such a confusing situation. People will need a certain kind of escapism just to get through things, but art for entertainment’s sake is not going to mean much to people for
a while now. And I think technology for it’s own sake, because it’s cool, is not going to mean anything to people right now. On the other hand, sharing with each other what each of us considers important and worth doing and what art is really for is really important and I think that’s got to be healthy for the field. It’s hard for me to imagine it, and frankly, so many things are in question now that what technology is going to have to do with our lives period is probably a bit more of a question than it was six months ago or four months ago or three weeks ago. Ray often makes the point about technology changing exponentially. Things aren’t just changing, change is changing and it’s hard to imagine. And we’re involved in a really major struggle right now about the future versus the past in our culture and, obviously, in the world. So these are big issues that are going to get played out and we’ve unleashed big forces that none of us can predict. I would imagine that Ray’s description of the future is probably going to happen. I’ll put words in his mouth, Ray’s contention is that once you start putting intelligence in machines that you’re enabled to do things that you couldn’t do before and that the sophistication of these machines grows very, very fast and it builds… So I think that to imagine that the core parts of our culture are not going to involve more and more sophisticated technology is naïve. I think it will. And I think probably we’re going to want to find ways to incorporate those ideas into our forms of expression because that reflects our experience most. So I think orchestras probably really should be thinking of ways of embracing the technological world and leading in the technology world and helping to create new art forms in their midst rather than outside it. And obviously you can always make great art and great thoughts, all you need is a mind and a heart, you know what I mean. It’s not the tools that do it, but I think these tools are here to stay.

RAY KURZWEIL: Well, I think the threshold we’re on now are not cybernetic geniuses but we are creating machines that have narrow intelligence. We have a program on our Web site called Aaron, which is a cybernetic artist that actually creates good quality art and every painting is different. The creator of it, Hal Cohen, who has worked on this for thirty years, has joked that he’s going to be the first artist that’ll able to have a posthumous exhibition of original work, because the system keeps creating original paintings and they have a particular style but every painting is different ’cause human artists have a recognizable style as well. So he has embodied this program with his understanding of visual art. Clearly, we can do similar things in music and there have been experiments like EMI, David Cope‘s experiments in musical intelligence, which are beginning to do some similar things, in my mind, not for broad works, it’s very actually convincing for brief snippets of music, but not the sort of full musical expression of music that makes sense over a period of time. But I do think we can create sophisticated systems today that have narrow intelligence that can work collaboratively and interactively with human musicians and I know, Tod, you’ve experimented with this concept. And I think that’s really exciting, to have a system that has narrow A.I., that understands something about music, that can anticipate what the musician is doing and then can kind of fill in. Once it’s programmed it can actually think faster than humans, so it could very quickly finish a walking bass line or fill in a rhythmic pattern, do things more quickly than a human performer could do and interact with a human performer. And that’s a threshold we’re on. I mean, thirty years from now we’ll have non-biological intelligence, in my mind, operating on human levels, and they’ll be creating music and everything else, but right now I think it’s a tool that can really amplify human intelligence and I think what we really need more of are people who really understand something about technology and understand music and have the artistic insight to use these tools. Because to some extent there are two different worlds and we need more of a bridge between the whole idea of artistic expression, which is communicating emotion from a performer to the audience and understanding what the technology can do, which I think is a lot. We need the people who can form that bridge.

Richard Einhorn: Yesterday Is Not Today

Richard Einhorn
Richard Einhorn

Editor Frank J. Oteri visits Richard Einhorn at his studio.

New York City — Friday, August 10, 2001, 2:00 P.M.

Interview Videotaped and Transcribed by Amanda MacBlane

FRANK J. OTERI: I wanted to talk to you about what the past means in terms of how the present is affected by the past, so let’s start with a really tricky question. What is new music?

RICHARD EINHORN: Oh, boy. That is a good question. Um, I think the best way to answer it operatively is to say that new music is music written in the past x number of years; name the number of years that you want, or name the number of months that you want. But one of the things, you know, that I was thinking about after we started to talk about this is the fact that on another level, even something by Machaut, in some way is new music, if you haven’t heard it or haven’t really encountered it. You know, the twentieth century was the first time that you had access to records and you had access to the entire history of music as it eventually got released, which would be toward the end of the century and suddenly rather than having the demands of a certain kind of fashionable present, you had an opportunity to poke around as much as you wanted, in any kind of music you wanted, in any era of music as well. I don’t know…new music is basically just music that we write now. Nothing terribly special about it, I guess.

FRANK J. OTERI: O.K. So what is old music?

RICHARD EINHORN: Old music…Frank Sinatra, that’s real old music! Barry Manilow

FRANK J. OTERI: He’s still around!

RICHARD EINHORN: He’s still old! Who’s that guy? Harry Connick? That kind of strikes me. I guess that’s middle-aged music. I guess that being middle-aged, I am supposed to like it, but I can’t, you know. I can’t answer it any other way… Old has a connotation for many of us as being old and tired. And so to some extent if you take any kind of emotional spin on it, at least for me, in terms of a connotation, it turns out that it’s basically music that I’m just not interested in. “That music is so old.” And technically, of course, it can be music that is, you know, music that’s thirty years old or more. In a sense, the seventies are ripe for the Academy of Ancient Music now. You know, Christopher Hogwood could have some fun, you know, resurrecting Berio! So, I don’t know… I think that when it gets into something like Perotin, for instance, I remember the first time that I heard that, when I was in college… I had this course in music history and Ernest Sanders was my teacher. He handed out these print outs but you weren’t ever supposed to go through them all in terms of records that you were supposed to listen to, so of course, I spent the entire time in the library listening to as much music as I could and I came across Perotin for the first time and I couldn’t believe it! Here was this music from the thirteenth century and it sounded like something that had been written, you know, a week ago or two weeks ago! It had this kind of sane, kind of strange, modal, rhythmic harmony that I’d always found attractive in the popular music, in the rock n’ roll that I’d been listening to and even in the jazz. And suddenly here it was in this, like, pure form. So on one hand, it was six hundred plus years old. On the other hand, it sounded as fresh as something that was made yesterday. So, I’ll go back and say Barry Manilow, Frank Sinatra, that’s old music.

FRANK J. OTERI: What rock groups were you listening to at the time?

RICHARD EINHORN: Well, in the late sixties and early seventies, what happened was that I was in high school with another composer by the name of John Luther Adams. And John and I were drummers in rock bands and John would join a band, you know, then he’d move on to a better band, then I’d join the band, you know, and the band would break up. And this went on and on and finally we met and we discovered that we both had developed a real taste in what was then the avant-garde in terms of rock n’ roll and jazz. Both of us loved Zappa, both of us loved Captain Beefheart. You know, and then we’d go on to The Fugs and, there was a band that used theremins called Lothar and the Hand People. Do you remember them?

FRANK J. OTERI: I know of them but I don’t remember them. I’m too young to remember them!

RICHARD EINHORN: Yeah. And then John moved down to Georgia and he found a band called the Hampton Grease Band who I was never able to find recordings of.

FRANK J. OTERI: There was only one record called Music to Eat.

RICHARD EINHORN: Yeah, yeah. I heard about it, but, like, never really knew their music. But then what happened is that Zappa, as I’m sure you know, had a quote on the early Mother
s records
, which was, you know, from Edgard Varèse and it got me intrigued as to who Varèse was and that got me interested in the whole, you know, the whole spectrum of modern music, contemporary, twentieth century music and I sort of, like, left rock n’ roll behind, as did John. You know, we went our separate ways but then ultimately we’d ended up actually at the same place. You know, both of us basically gave up drumming and gave up pop music and just got very interested in this other stuff ‘cuz it was more challenging, more interesting, more enjoyable.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, that Varèse quote on the Zappa album is an interesting quote to talk about: “The contemporary composer refuses to die.” And in terms of what we’re talking about now, we live in a society, a cultural society, on the one hand we have pop culture which keeps changing everyday, and you know today’s star is forgotten. You know, Britney Spears is the star of the moment, but who remembers Paula Abdul at this point? I remember she was the Britney Spears of her day and she was everywhere and it’s all you heard and now she’s “old” music. But then we have a classical music culture that really tries to hermetically seal itself from letting the new stuff in. Now, when you mention older music, you mention Perotin, you mention Machaut. It’s curious; you didn’t mention Beethoven or Tchaikovsky or Dvorak, or any of these people who, I would dare say, appear on concert programs instead of music by people who are alive today.

RICHARD EINHORN: Right, that’s right.

FRANK J. OTERI: But the period instrument movement has thrown a wonderful monkey wrench into all of this by saying that the way Beethoven has been played on concerts isn’t the way it would’ve been played in his time. And, oddly, the period instrument groups…you mentioned Hogwood… are somehow closer in spirit to the new music aesthetic than they are to the standard repertoire aesthetic. What a wonderful disconnect.

RICHARD EINHORN: I just don’t think that much about Tchaikovsky. It’s not very high up on my list. Beethoven is higher up on the list, but it’s not music that I tend to engage with. I think that the issue of why our music is not being played as much as it could be is a very, very, very complicated issue right now. Ultimately, I think it’s a cultural and social situation in which there’s plenty of blame to spread around equally; not only amongst the administrators but amongst everybody else. The reason why I write music is that at some level I know that there is some sort of desire to have this music as part of our culture, and as part, and a desire to, you know, as Frank Zappa would say, consume it. I think the tragedy is that a lot of really wonderful experiences are being passed by for a variety of very complicated reasons.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, what are some of these reasons?

RICHARD EINHORN: I think that one reason is that there is a real disconnect between the kind of aesthetic that you were talking about with Tchaikovsky, Beethoven, or even a composer as quote-unquote modern as Debussy or Ravel and the kind of music that’s going on today. I think music of that time was written primarily by people who were trained in a very quote high musical culture that was very different from the musical culture that you or I come out of in which there was a mingling of different styles, of different ideas, of different kinds of music without a preconceived notion of one being better or worse than the other. And so what happens is that when composers like us suddenly start to write and confront an audience and a tradition and administrators and musicians and conductors and singers, when you confront that, it’s like literally coming from two different planets.

FRANK J. OTERI: What’s weird about that though is that those administrators, those orchestra players, and the audience attending the concert are living in the same time we are.

RICHARD EINHORN: Yeah.

FRANK J. OTERI: They’re getting that same mixed-cultural message as well, so why hasn’t it affected them?

RICHARD EINHORN: That’s a very good question. I wish I had an answer. I just don’t understand it. I don’t understand how people can take so little interest in their own time. I just know that they can do it and they do. And you can talk to them, you can talk to people who literally have no idea who the Talking Heads are and they’re my age! A friend of mine, who in fact is a well-known composer herself, had never heard or heard of Patti Smith until very recently. This is really a shock. I think we can turn the tables around and say the other thing, which is that it’s a disgrace and it’s terrible that composers like Arvo Pärt and Giya Kancheli and Morton Feldman are completely unknown to everybody else. I think it’s disgraceful that these people have their heads in the sand, but I think the rest of the world has a lot to discover in terms of really, really fine music and fine composers.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s weird because that same audience, theoretically, would go to the Museum of Modern Art and go to a Jackson Pollock retrospective or go to the theater and see the latest David Mamet play.

RICHARD EINHORN: OK, that’s another one of those complicated reasons that we’re getting into, which has to do with the chauvinism of the music community itself and rather than insult my colleagues, I’ll say the twentieth century music community rather than the twenty-first, because we’re hopefully better.

RICHARD EINHORN: What happened was that in the early days of the century, music took a turn, or at least contemporary music composition, took a turn with the works of Arnold Schoenberg into the so-called atonal music, into serial music. And, as I’m sure you know, Schoenberg and his friends set up a society for the private performance of music. They turned their back on the audience. They said, “We don’t want you to listen.” You know, or that famous phrase “Who cares if you listen?” you know, from Milton Babbitt’s article. And basically they set themselves up as the highest…they were self-described as the highest spiritual level in terms of music, the highest musical level and anything that didn’t meet their stan
dards and didn’t meet their musical stylistic demands having to do with certain kinds of structural and harmonic procedures that Schoenberg inferred from Wagner and Strauss wasn’t modern, it wasn’t contemporary, it wasn’t new, it was old! And so what happened then over the course of the twentieth century, because Schoenberg and his buddies were very smart people and very influential, was that basically you can look at the music of the time as an argument between the assertion of this big idea and people who said “No, I don’t want to be part of it.” But those guys won, the Schoenbergs, for a long part of the century, Schoenberg, Berg, and Webern. After that it was their followers, particularly the followers of Webern, people like Stockhausen and Boulez, etc. Those were the big names, but there’s a whole alternative history of new music in the twentieth century that was underground at least in terms of my training and probably in terms of yours and other people’s as well.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, what’s interesting about that, though, is the same thing happened in painting—the non-representational, the abstract artists said, “Any kind of representational art is a throwback to the past, we need to abandon this…” And this whole movement in the late forties led to the ascendancy of abstract expressionism and painters like Thomas Hart Benton or Joseph Stella being discredited—they won, and the audience went with them! The audience goes to Pollock retrospectives and even goes to a movie about Pollock. I wonder if people would go to a movie about Schoenberg…

RICHARD EINHORN: Well, you know, it depends. You know the Richard Gerstl incident? His wife ran off with a painter…

FRANK J. OTERI: Right, yeah.

RICHARD EINHORN: As long as there’s a painter…

FRANK J. OTERI: It would be a great movie, but he’s not a household name. Abstraction happened in art, and the audience went with it. It happened in music and the audience didn’t. You mentioned Schoenberg, Berg, and Webern, but Berg’s music has very strong ties to the past, more so than the others, and Berg’s music now is done at the Metropolitan Opera. Next season, they’re doing both Wozzeck and Lulu.

RICHARD EINHORN: Yeah, that’s true; Berg was rooted in the past. But I imagine it will be a long time before they do Berg and Schoenberg in the same season together. I think the point though is that the audience may have followed at first, but my recollection from back in the 1950s, which I can barely remember, but I remember people talking about those paintings and thinking that they were totally ridiculous and that, you know, a child could do them. I could do them, anybody could do them, why are they worth any money at all? So I think that they were very controversial. Now, of course, everybody goes to see a painting by Pollock and it doesn’t have that same kind of contemptuous dismissal. It doesn’t have that meaning anymore. So I don’t think the reception of that stuff when it first came out was any different. I think it’s the extension, I think, do you know what I mean? Schoenberg never caught on, Pollock eventually did, you know.

FRANK J. OTERI: But that’s interesting. Now that we’re at a safe distance from Pollock, we can say, “OK, this is great, this is wonderful, but Schoenberg’s now dead fifty years and it’s still allegedly box office poison.

RICHARD EINHORN: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Well, there are many reasons. I’d like to suggest that it is extremely hard to hear his music. I mean, it really is. It’s like listening to the Grosse Fuge compressed over and over again with no let up. It’s very, very hard music. It’s wonderful music, you know, for the brain part of me, for the part of me that likes the cerebral and loves that kind of challenge. It’s wonderfully rich and exciting music to contemplate, to think about, to listen to. The emotional part of me is oddly enough very starved because it’s always at the same emotional pitch. There’s always this intensity and anxiety that I hear in his music that is exhausting. You know, and one can say, “Well, you sort of read into it,” but then you read his essays and his essays are as exhausting and intense as his music is. And so, and then you start looking at the harmonic language and you realize that something like a shell game’s been played on you. Schoenberg came across the saying, “I am the inevitable, I am the future, I am the inevitable future. All I’m doing is what was inherent in Wagner and Strauss and Brahms.” And well, you know, that’s a bunch of bull. I mean, it just is. There are plenty of other solutions to that, you know, starting with Janáĉek, another part of that underground we were never taught. You know, you can start with Shostakovich or other people who were using that language in a completely different way, who found modal solutions. Or Debussy for that matter. I think that we’re now getting to the point where we can get away from the “Father Schoenberg.” You know, sort of deal with the Oedipus complex and, you know, kill him and, you know, marry our musical mothers. Which in some sense is world music influences and pop.

FRANK J. OTERI: Yeah, it’s funny because Schoenberg’s original goal was to keep German music supreme for another hundred years.

RICHARD EINHORN: Right. But you have to look at that remark in context because Mahler said, “The only art is German art.” So he meant music. He meant music. Because there wasn’t anything else… I mean these were a bunch of very hermetically sealed people. If it didn’t come from Vienna and it didn’t come from Berlin, it stunk.

FRANK J. OTERI: So this notion of audiences going back to the past, ignoring the fact that the twentieth century happened in their concert programs, where they have a Rossini overture, Tchaikovsky concerto, intermission, then a Brahms symphony, which is typical concert programming all over the United States of America as if, you know, the twentieth century didn’t happen. You go to a piano recital program, some Chopin, a Beethoven sonata, maybe Debussy if they’re adventurous, but nothing contemporary at all. You know, you can go to a conservatory to
be a player and maybe do only one modern piece.

RICHARD EINHORN: Well, it’s weird. It’s just weird. People are being trained to be museum curators. They’re trained to curate the past…the modern frightens them perhaps. But the other side of the coin that’s rarely ever talked about is the quality of much twentieth century music, which is the thing, the subject that dare not speak its name—that there’s a lot of cruddy twentieth-century music out there. There’s a lot of really great twentieth-century music, which was buried.

FRANK J. OTERI: There’s a lot of really cruddy eighteenth-century music, too, and you can turn on the radio and hear it any day of the week!

RICHARD EINHORN: That’s true, except there’s one incredible difference, which is that eighteenth-century music, the good stuff and the bad stuff, say, share a harmonic language, a contrapuntal language that everybody knew. A lot of twentieth-century music is very solipsistic and inward, you know. It has to do with systems that are the private domain of the composer and whose interest in communicating them is rather minor. What many of the composers appear to be interested in is simply working out the implications of that. They’re not communicating it out to anyone else, including their colleagues.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, in some bizarre way, wouldn’t you say that composers turn that way almost as if they have to in order to deal with this heavy weight of the past that surrounds us in our music culture?

RICHARD EINHORN: Well, then it’s more people then who are hermetically sealed. This is my personal opinion, you know, and great music is written even with the silliest of systems. For example, Schoenberg’s music is great, but, if what happens is you turn inward and you are refusing to deal both with the world in which you are living in and the concert tradition which you live in, you know, then no wonder nobody wants to listen. If you’re speaking a language that’s so private that only you and your other autistic twin can understand it, no wonder there isn’t an audience. Most twentieth-century music deals that way. I think that it deals so poorly with the audience, but it is a tradition that we come out of, and it starts with Beethoven and ends with Schoenberg. The audience is really the least important part of the equation, the least significant bit and that’s, of course, bogus. I mean, first of all, on Beethoven’s part it was simple marketing. By showing contempt for his audience he was demonstrating that he was a hero, that he was an artist, the artist as hero, you know, that sort of thing.

FRANK J. OTERI: He was kind of the Miles Davis of his day…

RICHARD EINHORN: Yes, exactly, exactly. Turning his back on the audience. You know, it took a socially inept person like Arnold Schoenberg to take it seriously and to actually turn away from an audience.

RICHARD EINHORN: Unfortunately, everybody wants to be in the avant-garde. But everybody that’s a composer wants to do the best, wants to be, you know, the cutting edge in a certain sort of way, so yeah, who’s going to say, who in the twentieth century would say, “Yeah, you know, I’m writing all this stuff for an audience. You know, I just want to please people.”

FRANK J. OTERI: There are composers who say that.

RICHARD EINHORN: You don’t take them seriously. You couldn’t possibly take them seriously. Who were you thinking of?

FRANK J. OTERI: To some extent the minimalists said that.

RICHARD EINHORN: Yes.

FRANK J. OTERI: And at least to some extent, Copland would have said that.

RICHARD EINHORN: Copland said that there were two kinds of music. There was private music and there was audience music. Fair enough. But again, when you start thinking about the highest artistic values, anything having to deal with the awareness of the audience is considered as somehow a lessening… I mean that was the impression that I got. And, frankly, it wrecked a lot of music making.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now we’re faced with a weird scenario. The majority of people in this country not only don’t care about Schoenberg or don’t know who Arvo Pärt is, but they don’t even know who Mozart or Beethoven was and don’t care to. This was probably always the case in history, but now we’re aware of everybody as opposed to just the educated or just the wealthy. Classical music in total is irrelevant to the majority of the people living in the United States.

RICHARD EINHORN: That’s true. That’s true. That’s absolutely true. It’s a disgrace and one of the reasons, of course, is because they were, to use your phrase, hermetically sealed.

FRANK J. OTERI: But also because this music, this wonderful body of music, as great as it is, to the average American without any musical training is chronologically disconnected from their lives and geographically disconnected from their lives. I’ve gotten into fights with people about this. Why should a kid in the South Bronx say, “Wow, I really want to go to a Mostly Mozart concert?” The comeback is, “Well, it’s great music. They should want to hear great music!” Well, that isn’t enough. Sorry. “It should be enough,” they say. But it isn’t. “Should be” and “is” are not the same thing…

RICHARD EINHORN: Yeah, well, that’s a problem. Basically, by denying the present and trying to live in the past, classical music people have wrecked their ability to have even a marginal influence in culture. We’re the most marginalized, within a marginalized group. You know, we speak a language that very, very few people know. I have to confess that as a composer myself, my interest in writing music for us, for people like us, is not that great. I mean, my interest is in, you know, writing music for many other different reasons, but it’s definitely not to reach, you know, this very small, marginalized audience.

FRANK J. OTERI: So do you want to write music that audiences will love?

RICHARD EINHORN: Um, the answer is, “Who doesn’t?” But would I change a note? No. No. But on the other hand, the real question though is, “Why does one write music?” I can’t talk about what I need to talk about without writing music. There are things that I want to say that I simply can’t say any other way and they are very specific things to the people that I love, to the people who are my friends, to the images of the people that I love, to dead people. You know, to people who will live. And that’s basically it. If I could say it in words, you know, I would do it. I think though that ultimately there is a human component to it, but not an audience in the sense, in the sense of like, I try to write new music that I think my friends will love that of course I will love. But, and I think I’m savvy enough in terms of an audience to know when a piece will connect with a large audience and when a piece will connect with a small audience.

FRANK J. OTERI: So you do believe like Copland believed that there are small audience pieces and large audience pieces…

RICHARD EINHORN: Yeah. Yes, but with an explanation. I don’t think that stylistically I change as much as Copland does between pieces. I think that a piece like Carnival of Miracles, which for me is smaller, is definitely not a piece that would sell out Lincoln Center. That’s a piece though that stylistically is very close to Voices of Light and The Silence. I think that if you took a piece like some of Copland’s more complicated piano pieces and Billy the Kid, you know, there is just such a wide, disparate difference and I don’t think there’s that kind of difference in my music. I think that I’m consistent, more consistent, although not as good a composer.

FRANK J. OTERI: We’ve talked about hermetically sealing ourselves away from the past, we’ve talked about how you grew up listening to all sorts of music and playing in rock bands and how that’s affected your sound world to some extent and world music has crept in and hearing music going back a thousand years into our tradition is part of your language—is there a sound that is the zeitgeist of now in music? Is there a sound of today that some composers are hitting, that other composers are not hitting? Is there a sound that is not hermetically sealed?

RICHARD EINHORN: I think so. Yeah, I do. I think that, immediately, the moment I say it, I keep coming up with exceptions to the rules, which goes to show how plastic these ideas are. I think that in general you can say that any music will hit our time if it is somehow based on African American rhythmic traditions and African rhythmic traditions. That’s a fancy way of saying you have to know your blues, your jazz, your rock n’ roll, your funk, probably if you’re younger, your hip-hop. You have to know this music. Brazilian music. You have to know those rhythms. If you don’t know those rhythms, how can you even begin to put together a music that’s relevant?

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you feel that those rhythms are a part of your language as a composer?

RICHARD EINHORN: Absolutely. Totally. But not in the sense where I go out and say “I’m gonna write a samba.” I mean, that’s cheesy! Cheap. That’s like the classical music equivalent of a rock band, you know, of Paul McCartney writing a symphony. Rather than doing a samba, you have those rhythms in your head for part of your life and when you start to write rhythmically exciting music you call on a subconscious level for those kinds of music. You know, at the end of The Silence there’s a section that is very, very intense and very quote exciting: the violins are playing octave double stops in what appears to be, what sounds like a backbeat. The only problem with the backbeat is that the music underneath is moving around and scrambling about and changing meters and dropping eighth notes every once in a while, so although it sounds like 4/4 it really ain’t, if you ever try to tap your foot through it, it just isn’t gonna happen. And it’s that sort of thing that we’re talking about. It’s that sort of awareness, that kind of unconscious awareness, the same way that a dominant and a tonic were part of an unconscious awareness in the eighteenth century. You know, so that’s number one. I think everyone has to contend with electronic gizmos. Everyone. I mean, if you’re not dealing with electronic music on some level and computers, you’re just not part of the century, you’re not part of the twenty-first century. Music is going to have to deal with these instruments. They’re very primitive. We’re talking about the equivalent of a piano in the twelfth century. That is, we don’t even know what these instruments looked like yet, but these are the instruments we have and we have to deal with them. So people who are involved in writing music today, if you’re not plugged into this, it’s going to be very hard on many levels for you to understand it.

FRANK J. OTERI: There are quite a few composers who in some form or fashion, either by choice of design or by accusation from critics, are in some way ignoring the twentieth century and going back into the past. There is a guy out in Lodi, New Jersey, who writes symphonies that sound like middle-period Haydn.

RICHARD EINHORN: Oh yeah. I know that, I know that music. It’s hilarious.

FRANK J. OTERI: Yeah, you know, and there’s this whole “Derrière Guard” movement of composers who write music that sounds like it could’ve been written at a salon in the late 1870s.

RICHARD EINHORN: I guess one could say they were ass backwards.

FRANK J. OTERI: Yeah, that’s the logo on their stationary!

RICHARD EINHORN: Are you serious?

FRANK J. OTERI: Yeah.

RICHARD EINHORN: The marketing’s good!

FRANK J. OTERI: I got into a funny conversation about this the other night with Greg Sandow. He’s written operas that are very much in the style of Donizetti and Bellini. That’s what he does. What he’s doing is kind of avant-garde, in a way… It’s certainly going against the grain. And in the year 2001, how is that any less anachronistic than writing a hardcore twelve-tone piece?

RICHARD EINHORN: Mmhmm [nods].

FRANK J. OTERI: Now, in your music, that’s clearly not true in terms of the surface which is very rooted in the present tense, but the things that inspire it, the things that are underneath it, are very much a homage to the past. You’re very influenced by medieval music and you’ve written for one of the most outstanding medieval music groups, Anonymous 4. They are known for medieval music and yet here they are doing your music. That’s pretty strange. And there’re all these other composers, the Bang on a Can-ers just did a period instrument piece and it’s fantastic! These guys out in the Bay Area, American Baroque, commission all of these composers to write wacky pieces for Baroque period instruments. They sound great!

RICHARD EINHORN: Oh, yeah! Again saying something that’s probably a little outrageous, you know, the piano hit its maturity with Mozart. Then it got bloated into this ridiculous nineteenth-century thing! But these old instruments don’t necessarily evoke any specific period; it’s just that they sound great! The fortepiano is a wonderful sounding instrument. It’s the way that the piano is supposed to sound. A Baroque violin, you know, you tune it down from—what is it now? 443? You tune it down to 435 and you just go “Oh, gosh! Finally it sounds the way I’ve always imagined it!”

FRANK J. OTERI: And singers with pure tone.

RICHARD EINHORN: Oh, well yeah, of course. What’s this vibrato? You know, vibrato is an ornament. And rubato, you know… Basically a lot of the techniques of the Baroque and earlier times are techniques that make perfect sense to me emotionally, musically, dramatically, aesthetically. The nineteenth century and to some extent the twentieth century is an aberration.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, it’s interesting, the music of the nineteenth century was the music that was heard on classical radio for the most part of the twentieth century. You know, even my growing up was sort of the tail end of it. But then suddenly it became the eighteenth. There’s more eighteenth than nineteenth century music on the radio.

RICHARD EINHORN: Right, right, there are a lot of reasons for that. Bad reasons and good reasons. The bad reasons, of course, are that if you don’t listen carefully enough, the music has a tendency to be wallpaper. The dynamic contrast is smaller. You know, that’s the main reason. But there’s another reason as well, which is the whole early music revolution. You know, suddenly, you could hear Baroque music! I mean, performances, performances by people like John Eliot Gardiner and Les Arts Florissants, and William Christie, you know, those performances, that’s a completely different Baroque music! That’s not, you know, that’s not my childhood’s Baroque music. This is great. That’s what’s so exciting about it, these performances! I mean, if only people would play contemporary music with that kind of commitment. You know, with that kind of phrasing, shaping, and that kind of intonation; it’s awesome!

FRANK J. OTERI: Quite a few of these early music ensembles are now playing new music. What has been your experience in working with Anonymous 4 that has been different than working with other kinds of ensembles?

RICHARD EINHORN: Oh, oh, well, they’re wonderful. I mean, the thing is that Anonymous 4 has been singing together for ten years and basically, a lot of that time, they’ve been singing Gregorian chant, which means that because of their aesthetic, they really do want to blend the voices as much as possible. And of course, musically and performance wise, they want to, you know, make sure they’re together and in tune as much as possible. But they sound like one voice, a mammoth hyper-voice in a certain sort of way. And so they come to pieces like Carnival of Miracles or Voices of Light with that and they plug that right into it and it’s amazing. Basically, there are several different kinds of musical groups. There are groups that can play anything and then there are musical groups that have developed their own style and do that style. And when you write for a group like Anonymous 4, you could play within their style, you know, but what you can’t do is suddenly ask them to do something that is far beyond their style.

FRANK J. OTERI: One of the most fascinating CDs I’ve listened to in the past few years is a recording of John Cage‘s choral music by this Danish early music group, Ars Nova. It’s one of the most stunningly beautiful recordings I have ever heard. They bring their early music sensibility to this very out-there music, really clean phrasing and pure tone singing.

RICHARD EINHORN: Suddenly it’s layered. It’s like that famous Pokrovsky Ensemble recording of Les Noces. A lot of the groups I knew and that I was involved with in the seventies and the eighties, you know, you’d go to the concerts and you’d hear one of these incredibly dry, dull performances and you know, you’d think that was the music in some sense or another. But I was also thinking when you were talking of this wonderful recording by Martin Goldray of the Babbitt piano pieces, you know, which is totally awesome; it’s, you know, like this most beautiful, beautiful record to listen to. And I remember meeting Martin and saying to him, “Listen, I have to ask you a question.” I said, “When did you analyze this stuff? I mean, did you go and look up the analyses?” And he said, “No.” I said, “Well, how did you play it, how did you decide to play it?” And he said, “What I did was, I just played it the way I felt it. You know, I did everything he wanted, but I played it the way I felt it and I made it have musical sense, in whatever that meant, rather than anything else.” And I thought, “Well, sure, that’s perfectly obvious.” But it wasn’t obvious for many years. I think to a great extent, you know, getting back to the twentieth century conversation we were having, you know, composers were ill-served by the performance tradition that came out, that had been developed in the middle of this century.

FRANK J. OTERI: So maybe in the twenty-first century there’s a lot that composers could gain from working with people who have an early music approach to new music.

RICHARD EINHORN: Oh yeah, definitely. First of all, there are the stylistic things that are so attractive to us. Second of all, there are also the instruments. I mean, not all of the instruments, I mean, god, you don’t want to write too many pieces for natural horn or natural trombone or whatever, but the gamba is one of the most exquisitely beautiful instruments around. All the different kinds… There are all these instruments that need to be rediscovered and that deserve an exciting repertory. And I think also we, meaning us composers and instrument designers, could also start thinking about what a twenty-first century gamba might consist of.

FRANK J. OTERI: Another layer to this dialogue with the past for you has been the subject matters that have excited you. A lot of your inspirations are from things that are deep into the past and, in a sense, we’re talking about history and sort of the ghosts of history onto the present. The work that you’re most known for was created to go along with this amazing, amazing Dreyer film from the twenties, which in itself is about something that took place about five hundred years previously. So you’ve got three layers of history going on and potentially four. You’ve got the Joan of Arc historical reality. You’ve got Dreyer’s interpretation of that reality from 1928. You’ve got your reality of it from the nineties and you have the perception of everyone in your audience experiencing this superimposition of three historical layers. By adding new music to this old film, is it a new film?

RICHARD EINHORN: Mmhmm. Well, answering that question, no it’s not a new film. Well, let me puncture everything and say that there is a reason why many composers are interested in old topics and that is that they are out of copyright.

FRANK J. OTERI: So is the Dreyer film out of copyright?

RICHARD EINHORN: It gets very complicated but to put it mildly, it has to do with the GATT treaty and everything connected with the project has that mysterious out-of-proportion aspect to it. I think the second thing to do to sort of puncture everything is to realize that none of what you’re talking about occurred to me when I was writing it or developing the project. The only thing that interested me was the fact that, there were two things: One was the fact that this was a great masterpiece, you know, the end. And the other was that Joan of Arc was a very extraordinary human being that I responded to on many, many levels. It never occurred to me that there was any kind of a joining of histories at all. And in terms of the general overall working of the project, taking Joan of Arc first because in some senses she’s a little bit easier, the film, let’s see, the music that I developed was an attempt to kind of deal emotionally with this person and she comes from a very simple background. I also had an amateur, a semi-amateur orchestra with some great professional musicians in it who were first-class, so what, what happened was that between the fact that Joan was a simple person with a great deal of subtlety, and the fact that I wanted to make sure that the orchestra could get through it and that we could rehearse it in a reasonable amount of time, the music has a very, very pared down, at least for my style and many other people’s styles, a very pared down kind of feel to it. It’s very stripped down and it was that way on purpose. The texts are, were really carefully researched. I love words; I love writing, so I do a lot of work trying to find the best texts I can and those texts are used to comment on Joan of Arc’s life in various ways and they are locked in the period from the fifteenth century and earlier. Basically, that’s about it. In terms of the musical language, it’s one of those things where what I wanted and what I love is music that kind of floats outside of a period, outside of a time. Where if you were listening to it on the radio or at home, you just don’t know when or where it was. I mean, some of it, some music has that ability for me. It has a sense of timelessness to me and that’s what I was going for. If you listen to it, you think, “Oh, you know, this guy’s just writing Gregorian chants.” Well, there really isn’t anything in there that could possibly be a Gregorian chant or anything Baroque at all. If you listen to it carefully, there’s only one time it could ever have been composed, which is in the twentieth century. To a great extent, it shows the influence of back then, but nobody could ever mistake it for anything else than what it was. I think that in terms of the film, I don’t look at it as an historical document. I look at it as something that’s living and breathing right now because that’s the way that it affected me. I don’t even know if I can come up with a contemporary analog ‘cuz it’s something that’s more present to me than a lot of other things are. I didn’t look at it as trying to resurrect an old film because frankly, I couldn’t care less. I mean, what I cared about was that I’d found by sheer accident what I knew was one of the greatest masterpieces of the twentieth century and I just wanted to bring it to people’s attention and write some music. So, sorry. I didn’t quite answer the question.

FRANK J. OTERI: No, it’s a great answer. But to take it further, what are the things in music that you feel are timeless? Is a string quartet timeless? Is a symphony orchestra timeless?

RICHARD EINHORN: Again, everybody answers this differently. You know, the media aren’t necessarily timeless, but the way in which the music is approached is, in a certain sort of way. You know, like if you listen to the Lydian mode movement from the Beethoven quartets. That floats outside of time for me. I just don’t know; maybe it’s modalism, I don’t know. But, but it sort of floats out of time. Or the Pavane for a Dead Princess by Ravel. You just don’t associate that with its time period, although it could only have been written when it was written. There’s some kind of emotional directness to it. Or Music for Airports, which is truly timeless in many ways.

FRANK J. OTERI: I want you to put on another one of your hats now. For many years, you were a very successful record producer and making records is, in a way, making something timeless that prior to the twentieth century was ephemeral. How did making recordings of people like Meredith Monk and Yo Yo Ma affect you creatively and affect your ideas about making music?

RICHARD EINHORN: Until I worked with some of the virtuosos I’ve worked with, I had no idea what was possible. And then there came kind of an epiphany, which is kind of an arrogant thing, but I was doing this recording of Karl Maria von Weber sonatas, and Jean-Pierre Rampal was playing flute and, you know, he’s a really good flute player and that’s really awful music. And I was sitting there listening, following the score, you know, listening to him perform and I said, “You know, I could write music much better than this.” And I realized that then I had to quit because I’m so mad that they would be recording Weber rather than my own flute sonatas. I still think that. I still think Weber is a terrible composer. But I think that, that was the other thing, I didn’t know anything about nineteenth-century music. I had managed in my background to know a lot about twentieth-century music and eighteenth-century and before, but I didn’t know how many violin concertos Tchaikovsky had written or Beethoven or Brahms and, or how many piano concertos anyone had written and I didn’t really care that much, so suddenly here I was suddenly thrust into this whole thing. And I suppose it got me interested a little bit in the repertory, but not that much and oddly enough I now listen, it’s like I was reading Jan Swafford’s book about Brahms and said “Geez, I better get out the old Brahms records.” And very little of it
I find connects to me. Some of it just blows me away, but a lot of what she gets very excited about I’d rather be listening elsewhere.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, it’s weird, you know in a way, to kind of come full circle. I think some of that’s the ghost of Schoenberg. I think we’ve yet to come to terms as composers with the nineteenth century. We’re still trying to run away from it like Schoenberg did. And it looms over us because it’s the period that is still the most popular among people who run orchestras and what they say audiences like. You can’t really listen to Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony without making all of these other associations, but it’s a pretty good piece of music.

RICHARD EINHORN: Yes. It’s a really good piece of music. But no, I don’t think so. I just don’t like it. I don’t like the sound. It has to do with the sound quality of it and also the attitude. You know I hear Brahms working through his psychological problems, but frankly, I really don’t care. I mean, I feel for him, don’t get me wrong. I’m an empathetic guy, but I mean, you know, it’s not really what I come to music for. I think there’s more emotional truth in Bach or something else.

FRANK J. OTERI: Have you heard the period instrument recordings of Schubert?

RICHARD EINHORN: I’ve heard Elly Ameling do something, The Shepherd and the Rock, but I am sure that was an early, early instrument recording.

FRANK J. OTERI: I have done a 180 on Schubert since period instrument recordings came out.

RICHARD EINHORN: Really?

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s fantastic. I couldn’t listen to that music when I was in college, but it’s wonderful to hear a group like the Hanover Band do the Fourth Symphony or to hear the impromptus on a fortepiano.

FRANK J. OTERI: But let’s talk more about your music. You’ve written film scores which raise another whole set of questions about large and small audiences. The Fire Eater is a work of yours I have yet to hear, but I was reading about it on your Web site and I thought it sounded fascinating. You incorporated Finnish folk music into that score.

RICHARD EINHORN: Yeah, what I did was we hired two Finnish folk singers, Anna-Kaisa Liedes and another friend of hers in the group and I wrote, in the film, there is this very enigmatic Latin quotation. And for some reason or another I started to get obsessed with it and thought well, that’s obviously important to the filmmaker and, you know, I know from Latin just a little bit, so I set that to music as a song and you know, in the style of a Finnish folk song sort of, and the two women started to sing it and it was just so, so great. It was one of those experiences where you know we were all going, “Oh my gosh, this is why we endure no sunlight and stay in a recording studio all the time.” And it was really, really a wonderful experience and it got me interested in going back up to Finland to record, to actually record some folk songs and also to study them. It’s really, really just wonderful. The whole score, the whole score was actually for the Voices of Light ensemble, if you will: orchestra strings with flutes and oboes, plus a chorus and then these two folk singers, which was really good.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s almost a Baroque orchestration…

RICHARD EINHORN: Yeah, yeah. I think that it was the right idea. I love the idea of bringing those kind of voices into a different kind of a world. I’m working with Kitka, I don’t know if you know them, they’re a San Francisco-based group of women who specialize in Bulgarian and Georgian folk music, and I’m going to be writing a piece for them. They don’t know what it is, but I do. But I’ll tell you. I’m going to use them, I’m going to write a piece, based on The Origin of Species, and it’s going to be for symphony orchestra and chorus and Kitka. At least the way that I’m conceiving it now, and Kitka will be used as the voice of the book, The Origin, and will only sing quotations from The Origin of Species.

FRANK J. OTERI: So another area. I have not heard your Freud And Dora opera.

RICHARD EINHORN: Neither have I.

FRANK J. OTERI: You were talking about psychoanalysis and I thought, “This is interesting. You’re not interested in Brahms‘ or Schoenberg’s psychoses, but you wrote an opera about Freud.

RICHARD EINHORN: Well, I’ve been living too long with Schoenberg. I’ve been studying him for about a year now, so like, I guess that’s the reason why I’m not interested in him anymore.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, I’m wondering, just in terms of this whole connecting with that period, does Schoenberg’s music have an influence at all on the score of the Freud opera, because certainly that was what was going on musically in Freud’s time…

RICHARD EINHORN: No, absolutely not. Absolutely not. It will be my music. Zero interest in that! The Freud opera… it’s about a case history that got out of hand for Freud. I’m in a minority about this but I think he ends up being laughably inept. Inept, everybody agrees with, or almost everybody agrees with. Laughably… people just don’t find what I find humorous in it. But then I have kind of a sick sense of humor. And, very, very briefly, what interests me about it is not so much the psychoanalysis, I’ve studied quite a bit of it and have actually done a lot of research, a lot more research that I actually should have done, on the Freud case history. What interested me was the confrontation between Freud and the seventeen-year-old girl that was his patient named Dora and the complications that result. Because the two of them desperately need each other for a variety of reasons. Freud needs Dora as proof of The Interpretation of Dreams which is his big book that was published the year before, and Dora needs Freud because Dora is terribly distressed, I mean, at her family situation, at her situation with a friend of her father’s who tried to seduce her. But her father is sleeping with this guy’s wife so Dora thinks that she’s being used as a swap to keep this guy quiet. He’s bribing her to do it. So she’s very, very distressed, so the two of them meet and they have everything to gain from a relationship and they do everything possible to screw it all up. And there’s a tragedy to that at the same time that there’s something very, very comical about it. Because, you know, Freud doesn’t realize that he’s falling in love with Dora, you know, he just doesn’t realize it and he stumbles all over himself in the case history, making it very clear that he’s unconsciousl
y in love. Dora doesn’t realize the amount to which she is undermining something that could be very much to her own good and to her own health. So as the two protagonists or antagonists, I guess, go their merry way. What we also realize is their particular relationship is really political. Their personal neuroses and problems and frictions and aggressions in fact, have large cultural implications, because of course the time, 1900, is of course, you know, the time when Theodor Herzl was in Vienna and the mayor of Vienna was a notorious anti-Semite. You had all the situations, philosophical and cultural. You had all the things in place to create a culture that would create havoc in the world and that’s exactly what happened. And Dora and Freud’s little relationship, their little problem, their little difficulties illuminate a lot of that.

FRANK J. OTERI: So it’s never been staged?

RICHARD EINHORN: No, no. Not yet. It’s a long story. I’d rather not get into it.

FRANK J. OTERI: We’re in this room with all this high tech equipment which you said was part and parcel of being a twenty-first-century composer and this conversation we’re having will be disseminated electronically on the Internet. When you were a record producer you disseminated information about music through recordings. A big part of the process of finding an audience nowadays and bringing your music to new audiences is disseminating prerecorded information through recordings, through the Internet, through whichever way you can electronically. Will that eventually usurp the concert hall? I’ve never heard any of your music live. It’s all been on recordings. That’s probably true for most listeners and for most new music. How does that make you feel as a composer?

RICHARD EINHORN: Well, there are two issues. Having your music performed live is really a wonderful thrill. Psychoanalytically, it’s a wonderfully narcissistic experience. I mean, it’s just great. It’s extremely exciting too because you get to hear your music in many, many different ways and I prefer that to a frozen performance on a CD. On the other hand, there’s nothing wrong with CDs at all. I mean, I grew up with records. CDs are better. I know there’s an argument but they do sound better…

FRANK J. OTERI: I don’t necessarily agree with that…

RICHARD EINHORN: Yeah, let’s talk about that another time [laughs]. CDs are how 99 percent of all music is listened to. The other issue, which is the more interesting, is the whole issue of the gizmos and the gadgets and how to use them. My personal predilection at the moment is towards live performance and live shaping of the sound, and I’ve generally found that these instruments are wonderful compositional tools. They have their uses in some ways, but I’ve not yet really found a way to incorporate them into live performance except in the most minor ways, in a way that I find effective for what I want to do. That’s not to say that I’m not interested, it’s just that I don’t find what I’m looking for. What I love about hearing a violinist like Mary Rowell, for example, do Maxwell’s Demon, is that there’s an excitement and a struggle with the music and with the instrument that you just can’t get with these instruments ‘cuz everything’s too easy. You can do anything. If you’ve got a problem with it, just sequence it and your done. You can’t do it with an electric violin. And so I tend to use these for development, this is my piano.

FRANK J. OTERI: But an electric violin is already not the same as…

RICHARD EINHORN: You mean, not a real violin?

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, it’s something else…

RICHARD EINHORN: But it’s an extremely expressive instrument because you’ve got the direct touch thing. You don’t have that with even with a really good synthesizer, you don’t have the same minute level of control and the sounds on the piano, I mean they’re great again for writing music for piano but the idea of substituting that or using these instead, I would never do anything live that would be not performed on a one-to-one basis. I’m just not interested, which is not to say somebody else doesn’t do a really good job doing that.

FRANK J. OTERI: And the Internet? Any thoughts?

RICHARD EINHORN: The Internet. The idea of disseminating music, I think that’s great. I mean, I really think that it will take off when broadband DSL is a memory. In other words, when we have really high speed Internet and you don’t have to worry about waiting even five seconds or ten seconds. In terms of collaborations, because I know there’s this thing called Rocket Network which lets people collaborate on musical projects over the Internet, I’m sure it will lead to some cool stuff, but it’s not my shtick. There’re other things that I’d want to do; I’m just not that interested. I’m just trying to think if there’s any…Yeah, I think that that’s about right. I assume that you’re not talking about things like Web sites, which are so obvious.

FRANK J. OTERI: No, but certainly your Web site is a great portal to discover your music through.

RICHARD EINHORN: Yeah. Andy Cohen, my assistant, designed that. He did a great job. So, if somebody needs a Web site design…

A Carnival of Miracles  Originally broadcast live on WNYC (11/19/1999)

Voices of Light  Film score for Carl Dreyer’s The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928)

The Silence  Performed live at Merkin Hall, NYC (12/8/94)

Fire Eater  Film score for Pirjo Honkasalo’s Fire Eater (Finland 1998)

My Many Colored Days  Based on the book My Many Colored Days by Dr. Seuss

Ingram Marshall: Today’s Music Tomorrow

A black and white photo of Ingram Marshall sitting and looking pensive

Ingram Marshall (photo courtesy Nonesuch Records)

Ingram Marshall in Hamden, CT
Tuesday, July 17, 2001, 1:00 p.m.
Interview Videotaped and Transcribed by Amanda MacBlane

  1. Tape Music vs. Score-Based Music
  2. Musical Boundaries
  3. From Fog Tropes to Hymnodic Delays
  4. Working with Other Musicians
  5. The Orchestra
  6. Recordings
  7. Promotion and Documentation
  8. Excerpts from the Music of Ingram Marshall

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Natasha Sinha: Top Ten!

Natasha Sinha
Natasha Sinha
Photo by Raj Sinha

Natasha Sinha talks with Frank J. Oteri at the New York City offices of ASCAP

May 24, 2001—11:30 a.m.

Conversation videotaped by Jenny Undercofler
Transcribed by Julia Lu

 


Natasha Sinha
Interview Excerpt #1

FRANK J. OTERI: You’re involved with so many different kinds of activities, both composing music and playing piano, and you’re also involved with sports and Lego, and with mathematics, but since our main interest is your music, let’s talk about music. When did you start writing music?

NATASHA SINHA: I started writing music in I think 1998, two and half years ago. I first started composing because I had been playing piano for awhile and I wanted to see what the composer’s perspective was so I decided to have one instrument as a piano and compose music. Then I decided to have two instruments and that’s what I won for last year, My Rainbow. And then I did a few songs with two instruments. And I did one with the piano and the cello, one with the piano and the oboe, and one other one with the piano and the violin.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now how important is composing music among the various things you do in your life?

NATASHA SINHA: It’s pretty important, ‘cuz I think it’s a very free thing for me to do and it makes me relax a lot because I get to just put all my ideas out and there’s no real wrong way to write music. So I like it a lot.

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you feel that you’re going to be a composer for the rest of your life?

NATASHA SINHA: Probably, but just as something I would do once in awhile. I do it pretty often now and I’ll just always have it with me probably ‘cuz I really enjoy it.

FRANK J. OTERI: Would you say then you would want to be considered in your life first as a composer?

NATASHA SINHA: Possibly. Yeah.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well what else would you want people to think of you as?

NATASHA SINHA: Well I want to be an inventor. I’m interested in inventing robots and helping other people out with different problems they have and if they can’t do things as an aid to help them.

FRANK J. OTERI: So you feel throughout your life you would be able to do that and compose music?

NATASHA SINHA: …possibly as a hobby.

FRANK J. OTERI: How old do you think most composers are?

NATASHA SINHA: I think they mostly start from, obviously a little bit older than me so that would be around like maybe 20 to about maybe about 60 to 70. Somewhere around there, or maybe longer…

FRANK J. OTERI: You know, it’s interesting, there’s a composer who is still alive, an American composer, named Leo Ornstein who turned 108 last year.

NATASHA SINHA: Wow. That’s fantastic [sotto voce]

FRANK J. OTERI:Elliott Carter who I spoke to last year is still actively writing music. Some of the best music he’s written in his life. And he’s 92 now.

NATASHA SINHA: Oh wow. So it’s just probably ranging a lot.

FRANK J. OTERI: And of course you know Mozart started writing symphonies at the age of eight. And you know there are other composers who were as young writing great music. Henry Cowell was very young when he started composing. But certainly you know you’re younger than any of the composers I’ve ever talked to for NewMusicBox and it raises an interesting question. Can anyone be a composer? What does being a composer require?

NATASHA SINHA: Actually basically anyone can be a composer because all you have to do is be able to make up a tune. And many people do that right now. Like they just are improvising on a song. Like there might one song they heard a lot and they just start improvising something new. And that’s basically composing. They just haven’t written it down yet.


Natasha Sinha
Interview Excerpt #2

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you feel that audiences appreciate music in general in this country?

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah, I think so. Some of them like certain kinds of music and those kinds of music they like, they appreciate it, but sometimes I don’t think they appreciate it, like how much work they have to go through to get everything perfect. For example, like there are some band groups that make up all these songs, but they don’t realize what you had to do to get songs. You don’t just say “Oh I have a song, let
‘s play it.” You have to go through and put it down.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, what’s your process when you’re working on a piece of music?

NATASHA SINHA: Well first I decide what I’m gonna write about or compose about. And then I just start making my melody in mind so that’s like my first draft. And then I start adding all the fine details later. And then what I do is after I get all that down, I make another copy of it that’s a little bit neater. And then what I do is my mom helps me sometimes to write it on the computer. And then we find people who can start learning all the different parts. And they start practicing it and a few times before the real thing where you perform it, we hear it and we make corrections of what I, or my teacher Alla Cohen, wants.

FRANK J. OTERI: So you work through the scores by hearing them in performance with other musicians playing. Do you play the music yourself as well?

NATASHA SINHA: Not yet because actually I’m not that familiar with playing with other people yet. And I’m just making a new song called Wild Swans and I realize that now since I’m a little bit older I can start playing. So there’s a sort of difficult piano part in this song and I decided to start playing the piano in that song.

FRANK J. OTERI: You also are a pianist.

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah.

FRANK J. OTERI: I heard your piano recital CD, which featured a lot of different music. And the CD of your own music features the piano quite a bit. So that was not you playing?

NATASHA SINHA: No, that wasn’t me. It would take me awhile because I’m not very much used to playing with other people because I basically am the only one in my family that still plays music all the time. But my mom was a pianist, but my dad really never did anything.

FRANK J. OTERI: Interesting. So what, what started the interest in music? Where did it come from?

NATASHA SINHA: Well, when I was about four, I always listened to music ever since I went to bed. And I always thought about “Wow that person who did that must have been really good.” And then sometimes at night I would dream about what they might think. And I decided that one day I would want to start composing like they did. And so I’ve always liked music.

FRANK J. OTERI: And what music do you listen to at home?

NATASHA SINHA: I listen to classical music, but then I also listen to lots of other things, I like a particular band group in pop. I like the Back Street Boys. And also I like jazz music and I like the blues a lot.

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you feel that all these other types of music will somehow find their way into your own music?

NATASHA SINHA: Eventually, but not right now.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now to follow up on what you were saying before about audiences appreciating music and audiences listening to music, do you feel that most Americans appreciate what we’re calling classical music?

NATASHA SINHA: Not as much as I thought, especially in the younger ages. Because a large amount of people have started to hook onto pop and more of the rocky music, but still there’s a pretty good amount like some of the elderly. I still like classical music, but at least a wide variety in my school don’t really understand classical music ‘cuz they don’t really understand much about it.

FRANK J. OTERI: So what do your classmates and other students think, here you are a student just like them who’s writing cello and piano music? What’s that?

NATASHA SINHA: They think it’s awesome?

FRANK J. OTERI: Yeah? They’re into it?

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah, they think it’s awesome that I’m composing. But I don’t think they realize that ‘cuz see I’m like one of their friends and they’re like whoa this like girl that’s like next to me she composes. But if suppose someone else like a 20 or 30 year old composed music for cello and piano, they’d be like “Oh another one of those.”

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, you know it’s interesting the notion of who a composer is. You know there’s this notion more in classical music than any other music that a composer is somebody who’s a man whose got gray hair and maybe a wig, like Amadeus

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah, that’s what everyone imagines…

FRANK J. OTERI: …but you know, you’re not a man, and you’re not wearing a wig! And you’re an American. We all could potentially be composers if that’s what we set out to do.

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah. Most people think of composers, at least in my class, of like 18 year old and onwards. But they don’t really think of anyone being younger than 18.


Natasha Sinha
Interview Excerpt #3

FRANK J. OTERI: I want to talk to you about some specific pieces of your music. I’ve been really enjoying it. I want to talk a bit about My Rainbow. I heard things in it that pressed certain buttons for me and I don’t know if these composers will mean anything to you, but I want to mention these composers to you to see if you know of them because I thought there was a kinship: Howard Hanson, Amy Beach, Arthur Foote, Samuel Barber. Do you know their music?

NATASHA SINHA: I think I know Amy Beach. Yeah and I like her music. I’ve heard it a little bit. I sort of like it.

FRANK J. OTERI: And I thought it was interesting, you living in the Boston area, writing music in the tradition of the great New England composers. And I’m wondering, is there something in the water up there that makes people write rhapsodic beautiful music filled with counterpoint that is very gracious to performers. I mean this is music that performers would want to play.

NATASHA SINHA: Well I think that whenever I compose music, I always try to think of things, especially in one song, it was The Brook. And I thought of a tropical rain forest and how sometimes there’s sometimes like little brooks and all. And also I think of the rain, and how it comes down and then how the water starts flowing. And whenever I come by water, I always start hearing sounds that are not like sounds from the water, but music that just starts coming.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now I know that you have played Poulenc‘s
music. And there’s a wonderful flute and piano sonata by Poulenc. I don’t know if you’re familiar with it.

NATASHA SINHA: No, I don’t know that.

FRANK J. OTERI: Who are some of your favorite composers?

NATASHA SINHA: I like Bach, Beethoven, Bartók, Chopin and I like Grieg.

FRANK J. OTERI: You played Bach’s Two-Part Invention No. 8 on your piano CD and I definitely heard it as a departure point for a lot of the music you’ve done. That sort of sense of line in the invention sort of translates into one of the movements of the flute piece. I also heard echoes of it in the last movement of The Seasons, the cello and piano piece, and in your oboe and piano piece. Bach is somebody whom I also find a constant source of inspiration as a composer. But it’s interesting… Why is this man who lived in Northern Germany 300 years ago relevant still to us today in America?

NATASHA SINHA: Well I think that his music still shines. Because just the way he writes, he wrote the music, it brought out a lot of melodies that I enjoy even though it was such a long time ago. I don’t pick music by when it comes from. I mean I wouldn’t really mind if it came from like 300 years ago or 400 years ago, but I still like the music because I like the way it sounds.

FRANK J. OTERI: You love Bach, and you also love the Back Street Boys. Is there any music you don’t like?

NATASHA SINHA: I don’t really know if I don’t really like any music. I think of music as just being second nature to me because it’s always around and I don’t think there’s any wrong way to play music.

FRANK J. OTERI: That’s wonderful. It’s a shame that a lot of people don’t feel that way and some people get so caught up in one area of music making that they close out everything else.

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah, some of my friends like rap music and I like some rap, but not like I love it. But all they do is like rap. They don’t understand really what classical is or anything. And they think it’s boring.

FRANK J. OTERI: Because they don’t take the time to get into it…

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah. They always like turn on ‘N Sync

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, it’s interesting in terms of talking about other influences, because I heard some interesting things in your cello and piano piece, The Seasons. I’m thinking specifically of one of the movements, the Fall movement where the cello sort of sounded like a Chinese erhu, which is this two-stringed violin and there was sort of a Chinese-sounding scale. Were you trying to incorporate Chinese music at all in that?

NATASHA SINHA: I learned in the theory class I take at the New England Conservatory, about the minor way of playing something. And that sounded sort of interesting to me. And that particular section I thought that would fit in well there.

FRANK J. OTERI: So have you listened to Chinese music?

NATASHA SINHA: Not really.

FRANK J. OTERI: Any other sort of non-Western music, Indian music

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah, I listen to Indian music sometimes. And then I also listen sometimes to African music. I like how the rainsticks and stuff sound.

FRANK J. OTERI: Have you heard Lou Harrison‘s music?

NATASHA SINHA: No.

FRANK J. OTERI: I think you would be very interested in his music. Also Alan Hovhaness who died about a little over a year ago. Lou Harrison is still alive. He’s in his 80s now. He’s in California. And he writes this really lovely music that combines really tuneful sounding music for violin, cello, piano, with Asian influences like Indonesian music and Chinese music.

JENNY UNDERCOFLER: Lou Harrison wrote a piano concerto that you would like a lot. The piano has to be tuned in a specific way though. It’s not the regular piano tuning. In one movement the pianist gets to play with a block instead of the left hand. You play part of it with a block. It’s a really cool piece. You’d like it.

FRANK J. OTERI: Yeah, it’s wonderful. I’ll send you some music to listen to.


Natasha Sinha
Interview Excerpt #4

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you write out stuff by hand originally or does it go straight to computer?

NATASHA SINHA: Like I explained earlier what we would do is we would first do it by hand and then we would make a second hand copy which was neater because sometimes we would sort of hurry to write things down. And then from that, we would put it on the computer because it would be neater on there.

FRANK J. OTERI: And what program do you use?

NATASHA SINHA: We use Cakewalk Overture. And then my mom helps sometimes and sometimes my dad, but I do it most of the time.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now does that computer allow you to listen back to the music at all?

NATASHA SINHA: No actually, there’s a second way to actually do it on our computer which is to play it on the piano, but you would have to be exact about when to start. And it would change the signature if you weren’t. We have a keyboard and we hook it up to that, so like if you started playing and then you went a little bit faster, it might change the signature…

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s terrible. I started using a notation software program that I absolutely love called Sibelius for my own music… And you can hear the music, you enter it in the computer, but then you can play it back and it plays it.

NATASHA SINHA: Oh wow.

FRANK J. OTERI:
And I thought it was interesting because you were saying that you get musicians to play the music and then you make corrections based on what you hear, but with this program, you can hear it all as you are creating it…

NATASHA SINHA: Oh, no, no, no, what I mean is from what they’re playing. Like the way they’re playing. If they’re playing it too loud or soft, that’s what I mean.

FRANK J. OTERI: How long does it take you to write a piece of music. Like the cello and piano piece, how long did it take you to write that?

NATASHA SINHA: It took me about like four or five months.

FRANK J. OTERI: And the flute/piano piece?

NATASHA SINHA: Uh around that.

FRANK J. OTERI: Same, same length of time. One of my favorite things that I heard on the CD was the second movement of the Rustic Suite, the piece for oboe and piano. What I thought was so nice about it was it was so spare. There were passsages where the oboe played and the piano didn’t play at all. And then the piano came it. It wasn’t crowded with notes. Every phrase was allowed to breathe. And I think a lot of times there’s a desire to fill up the page and have as much going on as possible and I think it was wonderful how this music just breathed.

NATASHA SINHA: Well sometimes I feel that also the players sometimes need a rest. But also I sometimes think that as you said, sometimes things get too compacted and I don’t worry how much music I have. As long as it’s not like one note, obviously, the only thing I’m really concerned about is that the music sounds right to me.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now when you hear other people playing your music, how does it make you feel when you’re sitting in the audience?

NATASHA SINHA: It makes me feel just really happy because I usually just close my eyes and just think about it. And sometimes I’m just surprised that I wrote that because I’m just looking at a piece of paper and just playing notes and sometimes I need my teacher to help me. I’m just playing it on the piano, but then when I really hear it with all the instruments, it sounds so good. And I really like it.

FRANK J. OTERI: Have you ever heard a performance of your music that you did not like?

NATASHA SINHA: I don’t think so because most of the times, they’re pretty good.

FRANK J. OTERI: So they do a good job with your music.

NATASHA SINHA: We usually get players who are pretty good and if there’s just one little thing that goes wrong, I don’t make a huge deal about it because we’re all human.


Natasha Sinha
Interview Excerpt #5

FRANK J. OTERI: In talking about both the flute/piano piece and about the cello/piano piece The Seasons you said that you wanted to convey something, some sort of a message. So is it program music? Do the notes mean something besides just the notes?

NATASHA SINHA: Well the notes for me mean what I feel about the music. Like in the cello piece The Four Seasons I tried to convey how the Summer went or how the Summer is for me. How it goes by so quickly. Many fun things happen. And the Fall, how all the leaves are falling. How it’s beautiful and how there’s some touch of magic in it. And then in the Winter, how it’s like sometimes really bad and good. And then in the Spring, how everything starts blooming and everything like life comes back again.

FRANK J. OTERI: I definitely got the sense of winter in the Winter movement. It was actually my favorite movement. It really felt cold. So, you definitely got that across! But, the strangest thing on your CD I thought was the violin suite. There’s one movement that I thought was very, very weird. There are cat calls and there’s banging on the piano lid, pitch bends on the violin… It’s out there!

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah. It was supposed to be like that.

FRANK J. OTERI: It was great. I loved it. What made you write something like that?

NATASHA SINHA: Well, I decided to write something about a person who wasn’t in the best position at his time. It was about a fiddler in the attic of this huge apartment. In the first scene, or the first song, he was happy; everything was going nicely. And then the second scene, the landlady comes to collect the money. So that’s when you hear the banging and asking for the money… And that’s when all the cats are around. And the third scene, she goes away and then the fourth song, he starts becoming forgetful. And then he actually starts playing wrong notes and I thought it was pretty interesting. I wanted to write something where there wasn’t only just one subject in it. There was more than one subject. It was like the violin was actually part of the story. Then the cats were in it. The landlady was in it. And so was the man…

FRANK J. OTERI: Now, in terms of story, is this your own story that you made up?

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah.

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you write stories also?

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah, I do. At school sometimes we get to improvise our own things.

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you think an audience can hear the story you are trying to tell through this music? I heard it and I had a different interpretation entirely. Music, of course, is abstract. I heard the catcalls. And it sounded to me like a cat was playing the piano. That’s what I thought you were trying to convey. All of a sudden cluster, cluster, cluster, cluster and then rrriaow, rrriaow… My cat has tried to play the piano a few times and that’s kind of what it sounds like.

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah, that’s what I tried to convey. Obviously, you know, a cat’s foot is about this big. And obviously you can press like two or three notes and then sometimes you don’t press just the white notes or just the black notes so they might go on the sharp or the flat. So I tried to do that.

FRANK J. OTERI: Have you heard the music of Henry Cowell at all?

NATASHA SINHA: I haven’t.

FRANK J. OTERI: He was a composer who starting writing music around the turn of the twentieth century. And about 1911, when he was still very young, he invented this thing called a tone cluster. You take your arm and play the keys of the piano all at once. You can do it all on the white keys and that’s one sound and you can do it all on the black keys that’s another sound. You can do it on all of them and that’s yet another sound. And Bartók, whom you mentioned was one composer you like, learned about Henry Cowell’s tone clusters and wrote a letter to Cowell asking his permission to use them!

NATASHA SINHA: That’s so silly.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well Cowell’s response was that Charles Ives also did this in his music independently, before Ives had ever heard Cowell’s music… We’ve gotta get you to hear some of this stuff! Have you heard John Cage‘s music at all?

NATASHA SINHA: No.

FRANK J. OTERI: There has been a lot of music in the last 100 years that’s taken this sort of notion of experimenting with scales, doing other things, and going into a whole other universe with it. Are you interested in exploring that sort of thing more? Or was this sort of an unusual thing for you?

NATASHA SINHA: Well, I wanted to write something sort of funny, a little bit different. And I decided to write a piece that was not just a regular piece like some of my other pieces are. I wanted to make it a little bit different. I wasn’t just writing the same thing. It would be a little bit more of an “up” thing to most of the other things.

FRANK J. OTERI: What did the audience think of this piece?

NATASHA SINHA: Oh, they thought it was funny and they liked it a lot.

FRANK J. OTERI: And the players?

NATASHA SINHA: Oh, the players. They thought it was good too because they thought it was funny, but it also wasn’t terribly hard for them to play. So, they thought it was good.


Natasha Sinha
Interview Excerpt #6

FRANK J. OTERI: Well now, so far you’ve written music for one instrument, just the piano, and then you’ve written music for two instruments, piano and something else. Have you thought about writing for larger combinations?

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah I have. I just recently made a piece called The Little Orchestra and that has three, actually four in it. It’s the piano, the violin, the viola and the cello. I’m still working on it right now. I’m making a piece called The Wild Swans and it has the same thing, it has the piano, the violin, the cello, and the viola, and then I’m going to add in some brass instruments.

FRANK J. OTERI: Wow.

NATASHA SINHA: The trumpet and then a little bit of percussion instruments.

FRANK J. OTERI: Neat. So you haven’t done anything yet that doesn’t have the piano in it. Everything has piano.

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah, so far.

FRANK J. OTERI: Is that because you’re a pianist?

NATASHA SINHA: Well I think, the piano has some special role in most of the pieces I have because I think that the piano always has some part in whatever I’m doing. Because it just sounds right. Eventually I might have something where it doesn’t go and I can pick maybe the harpsichord or something. But actually one time I did not use the piano. I actually used the harpsichord…

FRANK J. OTERI: What piece is that?

NATASHA SINHA: Right off the head, I don’t remember. I used it for a piece I thought was more like in the olden days.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now do you have a harpsichord at home?

NATASHA SINHA: No actually I have a keyboard though and it has a harpsichord on it. Like you just press the button…

FRANK J. OTERI: You have a piano at home though.

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah.

FRANK J. OTERI: So much of the stuff you talk about has a story. But you haven’t done anything for voices yet, for singers. Does that interest you?

NATASHA SINHA: Not at the moment, but I’ve been thinking about it because just recently, I saw the Phantom of the Opera and I thought that was really cool. But for right now, I’m not sure about that, but I’d like to do it someday.

FRANK J. OTERI: So you’d like to write an opera or a musical theater piece or something?

NATASHA SINHA: And eventually, I wanna create for maybe not a full orchestra, but a pretty good sized orchestra.

FRANK J. OTERI: You write mostly suites of linked movements, but every one of the movements is very short. Some of them are about like a minute and half, two minutes. Have you done anything that’s a longer stretch of continuous music?

NATASHA SINHA: You mean in like one movement?

FRANK J. OTERI: Yeah.

NATASHA SINHA: Not yet.

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you want to or do you feel that the short movements are better?

NATASHA SINHA: Well, I’ve considered that but actually I have longer movements now in The Wild Swans because there are lots of parts where you have to repeat stuff. And another thing is that in this new suite I have to be more detailed which means that I have to make it more lengthening.


Natasha Sinha
Interview Excerpt #7

FRANK J. OTERI: Let’s talk a little bit about your playing the piano. You’ve entered competitions…

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah.

FRANK J. OTERI: …and have done quite well in those competitions. How long have you been playing the piano?

NATASHA SINHA: Ever since I was four, four and a half.

FRANK J. OTERI: One of the things I thought was so interesting is that you don’t play a lot of standard repertoire. You play all this obscure stuff. There were some composers on your demo CD that I’ve never even heard of. You’re playing music by Alexander Goldenveyser and Karl Albert Loeschhorn… I don’t even know if I’m saying their names right! And Racov… Who is Racov?

NATASHA SINHA: He’s a Russian I think. My teacher’s Russian and he likes pieces that are Russian or near Russia. I would like to start playing “Heart and Soul.”

FRANK J. OTERI: You mean the popular song?

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah. I only know the melody. I don’t know. And then sometimes when I’m playing the piano, I just start doing a tango, but I don’t really know how to play it.

FRANK J. OTERI: So these obscure pieces were things that your teacher suggested for the most part?

NATASH
A SINHA:
Yeah.

FRANK J. OTERI: But you enjoyed playing them?

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah, I liked playing them because I thought the songs were good. I just didn’t really know the composers that well.

FRANK J. OTERI: Who is Shin Daw Lien?

NATASHA SINHA: Um, that’s the composer who did a frog song and I used that when I went to Washington DC because there were Chinese composers there and judges. So I decided to pick a Chinese song.

FRANK J. OTERI: Great. But you haven’t played a lot of the standard stuff, you know, like Beethoven

NATASHA SINHA: Oh actually yes. I’m playing a sonata and also I was just recently finished playing a Rachmaninoff piece a month ago. And it was very beautiful.

FRANK J. OTERI: D you feel like you want to keep going as a concert pianist and playing music?

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah, I think so. think it’ll always stay with me.

FRANK J. OTERI: How often do you practice a day?

JENNY UNDERCOFLER: Oh, that’s a mean question!

FRANK J. OTERI: It is a mean question. Sorry.

NATASHA SINHA: Well it varies, sometimes I have more time like on some nights I get in like two and a half hours or something. And then other nights, I can get half an hour or an hour in. And then usually on Sundays, before I go to my piano lesson, I go even more time like three hours.

FRANK J. OTERI: Wow.

NATASHA SINHA: Because I need that much practice because some of the pieces that I’m just starting are sort of difficult.

FRANK J. OTERI: Wow, it amazes me that you find the time to do all of this stuff. Now you study at New England Conservatory.

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah, I do theory there.

FRANK J. OTERI: Who are your teachers?

NATASHA SINHA: Alexa Vogelzang. And a few years ago I had Mr. Peisch. And he taught me musicianship, which was the very beginning. And this year in theory, I was learning about the changes in a chord and how it inverts to a different chord and how to open a chord and close a chord and how to do that.


Natasha Sinha
Interview Excerpt #8

FRANK J. OTERI: What do you feel is the most you’ve gotten from your teachers?

NATASHA SINHA: In theory?

FRANK J. OTERI: In anything.

NATASHA SINHA: Well I’ve a learned respect for liking that thing. I’ve started to like music more. I started to appreciate all the people’s work that they’ve done. I’ve appreciated my teachers more because the way they pick out from the many good composers the best ones.

FRANK J. OTERI: Would you be interested in teaching one day?

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah, I think so.

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you think it’s difficult to teach?

NATASHA SINHA: I don’t think it’s very difficult unless you don’t know how to do it.

FRANK J. OTERI: One of the most amazing things I read about in your background is your commitment to the community and you mentioned this in the very beginning about wanting to help people. In 1999, you started this program called “Share the Music” at Milton Hospital.

NATASHA SINHA: When my grandma and grandpa used to go out there once in awhile to help out, I realized that some people are really sick and that there was this new thing that was saying that music can help people get better. Or at least possibly come out of the hospital for awhile ‘cuz sometimes you can’t really move much. And I decided that since music is so relaxing and calming, it could help. I decided to gather a few kids from different schools, actually I used Milton Academy, and we decided to go there on one afternoon and play music. And there were a bunch of people, some in wheelchairs, some with canes and before we started, we said that we hoped that they’ll feel better. And we played as best as we could. And after we did that, we asked if anyone felt better and many of them did. They said it was very relaxing and it was actually the first time they had heard music in a long time.

FRANK J. OTERI: Wow, now you organized this whole thing?

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah.

FRANK J. OTERI: What did you have to do to get people involved with it?

NATASHA SINHA: I made posters and I gave them to the Milton School and I decided that since we were sort of friends with them since I went there for a year. We talked to the music director and said, “Can you please post these around the music area?” or wherever there were posters. So we got a few kids who were willing to do this. And we thought it was very nice of them and at the end we gave them a nice treat.

FRANK J. OTERI: That was a couple of years ago. Are you still involved with that?

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah, I am. Once in awhile I do it but, it’s sort of a little bit difficult now since I have more things going on. But sometimes we do.


Natasha Sinha
Interview Excerpt #9

FRANK J. OTERI: Now tell me a bit about, you also in addition to all the music stuff you do competitive figure skating.

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah, I used to.

FRANK J. OTERI: You don’t any more?

NATASHA SINHA: Actually no, I don’t because it started taking up too much time. And if I did that, I wouldn’t be able to do any of this. Like I wouldn’t be able to do much piano ‘cuz it was either giving up ice skating or giving up piano and I decided to give up ice skating because I could have gotten injured since I was getting near the higher levels where you have to do more turns in the air and stuff. So I decided that. I mean I c
an always come back to it. But I just didn’t wanna like grab onto that because also I think that music is very important.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now with the figure skating, you got pretty high. You were number four in a U.S. Regional in 2000.

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah.

FRANK J. OTERI: You placed first in the Providence Open Competition in 1997. When did you start skating?

NATASHA SINHA: I actually started skating when I was about four and a half. And I did that until I was eight and a half I think.

FRANK J. OTERI: Wow.

NATASHA SINHA: So that was the last.

FRANK J. OTERI: And you said that you also like tennis and you want to get into softball.

NATASHA SINHA: Yes sort of. I wanted to do softball, but actually I didn’t get a chance to get into softball. I like tennis a lot. Tennis I always like because it’s always on television and I think tennis is a very nice game because you don’t have to be running every second. But you have to use your muscles and be able to predict when something comes, where the ball will be coming and have to throw it back in time.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now do you feel there’s any connection between sports and music?

NATASHA SINHA: Actually I do because usually when I did skating, there would always be music playing. And for some reason, whenever I’m doing anything, I just start singing. I don’t know why. I just start humming tunes in my head because I have them and I think sometimes some, some songs just start coming out and I really enjoy it.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well it’s interesting that you said that you gave up skating because you didn’t want to be injured and hurt your piano playing and you couldn’t give the time to practicing skating and also the time to practicing piano. We always talk about how music is an art and an intellectual thing that involves the mind and engages the soul, but we often forget that making music involves the body. Playing the piano is a physical act of endurance a lot of the time. Especially if you’re entering competitions. That’s like a sports competition in some ways, no?

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah.

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you feel when you’ve played in piano competitions that you feel physically stressed by it…

NATASHA SINHA: Actually usually I don’t because I’m usually not stressed and the reason for that is because I know that I’ve practiced a lot and that I wouldn’t be going to the competition if I didn’t know it. And that I don’t try to be stressed because if I do, I feel all worried and usually I’m not worried because even if I don’t do well, at least I tried.

FRANK J. OTERI: In terms of the skating competitions, did you ever feel stressed with those?

NATASHA SINHA: Not usually, unless I had a cold. Like the last time I ever skated, I was really sick and I didn’t feel well and I wasn’t sure if I was gonna have to stop in the middle of my program. But that was actually basically the only time ‘cuz I wasn’t feeling well. That morning I had to take this stuff that made me really drowsy.

FRANK J. OTERI: You got into music because your mother had a musical background and you had music in the house all the time. How did you get into the skating?

NATASHA SINHA: Well I had always watched it on television and I personally thought that was very interesting ‘cuz you’re skating on ice. It’s almost like a bike basically except you’re having something that is less friction and you’re basically gliding and you’re jumping up into the air and you don’t just come down with a thud and stop. You come down and you start, you start sliding again and I just thought it was very interesting and I wanted to start skating.

FRANK J. OTERI: In the very beginning of our talk, we spoke about music audiences in this country and people not always appreciating classical music, but there’s an inclination for music that isn’t developed. Sports definitely does not have that problem! Sports has the biggest audience in the world.

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah, see what I think the thing is, is that well many people get excited for games because you don’t really know what’s gonna happen. But in classical music, for some reason people think that it’ll always be the same and that nothing will really change. And they always have the best players like on the team that they’re on. No one really says “Oh you guys, let’s go and hear this kind of music.” It always has to be like a band group that’s like the newest or something.

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you feel there’s something we should do to add more of an element of surprise to music to make it more exciting?

NATASHA SINHA: Well I think that we should somehow persuade people to start liking other kinds of music ‘cuz many people are just stuck in one kind of music ‘cuz that’s all they really care about. But if we could just explain to them how beautiful all kind of music is, even if it’s not preferably your favorite music, you can always like some kind of music. Because at first you can explain to people that there was only classical music. Everything was built off of the caveman days and how it came up from there. Like you would say “Who want to listen to rocks and bones?” And they’ll say, that’s basically saying who would want to listen to pop music, because that developed a whole thing about music and beauty.


Natasha Sinha
Interview Excerpt #10

FRANK J. OTERI: I was reading about you on the Lego website. How did you get into Lego?

NATASHA SINHA: I’ve always wanted to create things and I’ve been very interested in making things move on their own so you don’t have to do it. And so I decided to use something called an RCX. It’s sort of like a mini-computer. And it downloads things that you type on the computer. And what that does it transforms it into like something the robot can read as ones and zeros. And that allows the robot to do whatever it’s told to do. And you can easily have many programs on there. Now, coming back to Share the Music, suppose you wanted to have something be played, but you couldn’t go over and press the buttons. You could have a robot crawl over or be programmed so that for a few seconds it goes one way and then it turns around. And then it could have an arm extending and it would press exactly at that one place. And it would know that it was playing and then the person could make it program another program so that it would come back and come right next to them so they could do something else with it.

FRANK J. OTERI: The thing that’s interesting about Lego is it’s all these small building blocks that you build larger structures with.
Do you feel there’s a connection between Lego and music?

NATASHA SINHA: Actually I do because I’ve noticed more and more people have started to use crickets which are these little chips and that have batteries in them and they make clicks. And those clicks people have been researching about and I know there’s this one man at MIT. He’s using those crickets to make a vest that has music all over it made out of Legos. So you would like press something and it starts singing a tune.

FRANK J. OTERI: I went over to MIT to meet with Tod Machover for an issue of NewMusicBox and he showed me this denim jacket. It has little patches and you can play scales on it… It’s wacky stuff. Are you interested in creating music like this with machines…?

NATASHA SINHA: Yes, but right now I’m just focusing on inventing the things. And then later when I need music and obviously I love music, but right now I haven’t been doing that yet. So right now I’m just building things. But I would love to obviously put music in.

FRANK J. OTERI: But there’s also a connection between music and Lego on another level. I’m thinking about the first movement of your oboe and piano piece, Rustic Suite, which has these little motives that go here and there. In a sense, motives are the musical equivalent of Lego building blocks. You make larger structures from tiny pieces. With music if you listen to it or look at it on the printed page you can see all these little units that are the building blocks that created this larger thing.

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah.

FRANK J. OTERI: So do you feel like working with Lego has influenced you as a composer?

NATASHA SINHA: I actually think so because as you said, I think that the notes are like the little pieces of Lego. And sometimes I just like to freely write music. I don’t actually write it down. I just start playing. And sometimes I just think of something I’ve made. Like one time I wrote a little mechanical music. And it went ta-ta-ta-ta…As though something was going like this. And that obviously started the melody for this little thing I started to write. And from there, as you said, those are the building blocks and then I made it into a little bit bigger piece and made it a little bigger until finally I got it.


Natasha Sinha
Interview Excerpt #11

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you have hobbies? Are there things you do just for fun?

NATASHA SINHA: Well I personally think that all things I do are basically what I like to do. It’s not like I’m being pushed to do anything. I like music, I like theory … All the things that I’m doing I like. I’m not being pushed to do anything. Like if I didn’t like piano, I would probably pick another instrument that I like, maybe the violin. ‘Cuz when I was very young I started the violin, but I never used the cloth and that’s very important and it was always pressing against me. So I decided to do the piano. But if I didn’t like the piano, I would have gone back to the violin or picked something else.

FRANK J. OTERI: In the interview you did with the folks at Lego, you said that you enjoyed movies.

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah.

FRANK J. OTERI: How do you find the time? How many movies do you see?

NATASHA SINHA: Once in awhile we go to a movie, like on Mother’s Day. And then once in awhile I go. I think a few months ago, I went to see Spy Kids. And that was fun. It was just on some random weekend. It’s just once in awhile I don’t do it at…

FRANK J. OTERI: You said you like spicy food.

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah, ‘cuz my dad’s Indian and ever since I grew up I always ate Indian food.

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you like vindaloo?

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah!

FRANK J. OTERI: I do too…


Natasha Sinha
Interview Excerpt #12

FRANK J. OTERI: You’ve won two ASCAP Morton Gould Awards; you’re the youngest composer to win this thing two years in a row. You’ve placed very successfully in piano competitions, in skating competitions. Lego found out about you and did a feature about you on their website. And there’ve been articles about you in newspapers. In some ways, you’re more successful as a composer than many composers in this country who’ve been working on music for years and years and years. So, as a successful composer, what advice do you have for all the other composers out there who are trying to get people to pay attention to what they do.

NATASHA SINHA: Well, personally I think that you shouldn’t just have one thing to work on. You should have a few things as sort of a backup. You can just try your best. And even if something’s not going quite well, you should always keep your spirits up. Because that, that’s what I always did. And I was so surprised this year when I won again because I felt really happy. And sometimes, even if you don’t get all the attention, at least you’re getting some attention.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now in terms of getting your music out there, you made a CD of your music. Can people buy that CD?

NATASHA SINHA: We would have to edit more things onto it. This is just something to put all of my things together, ‘cuz that’s all over the place. And I decided to just put everything on one CD or actually 2 CDs, so I thought that would be easier.

FRANK J. OTERI: And in terms of your scores, if somebody wants to get a score of your music…

NATASHA SINHA: Oh, I’d be happy to give them one.

FRANK J. OTERI: To get performances, do you send scores of your music out to different people.

NATASHA SINHA: I do sometimes, but not as a major thing.

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you see the Internet as a way to get your music out there? And the word about what you do.

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah I could. Actually awhile
I had started doing something called “Natasha’s Collage” and I haven’t put it up on the Internet yet. But I’m gonna put some of my songs on there. And then I’m gonna have like click on here, listen to this piece. And it will just be for free. But it’ll be something I’ll enjoy because other people could see my music. They won’t have to come over or get a CD.

FRANK J. OTERI: In terms of it being for free. You know there’s a lot of talk right now, we’re at a real crossroads with the Internet and music and this whole Napster thing. I don’t know…

NATASHA SINHA: Yeah, I know about it. Like they’re using songs without getting permission from the other people if they can’t be paid for it.

FRANK J. OTERI: As a composer, how can you be financially rewarded for what you’re doing if you’re giving it away for free?

NATASHA SINHA: Well I don’t really compose just to get money. I compose for the fun of it. I like to do it. Unless I like am totally serious with it, I would obviously ask for money. But for right now, I don’t need the money.

“Song of the Brook” from My Rainbow (1999)
Suite for Flute and Piano
Rustic Suite (1999)
for Oboe and Piano, Second Movement
“Winter” from Seasons of the Year
for Cello and Piano (2001)


click for larger version


click for larger version


click for larger version

RealAudio 
My Rainbow
RealAudio 
2nd Movement
RealAudio 
Winter
Spring
Summer
Fall

 

Violin Suite (2000)Old Russian Fairy Tale
(1999) for Solo Piano
RealAudio 
1st Movement
2nd Movement
3rd Movement
4th Movement
RealAudio 
Old Russian Fairy Tale

Terry Riley: Obsessed and Passionate About All Music


February 16, 2001—The Wortham Theater Center, Houston, TX
Transcribed by Julia Lu

Sections:


Earliest Musical Experiences

FRANK J. OTERI: Terry, I am so honored and thrilled that this talk is finally happening.

TERRY RILEY: Not as honored as I am.

FRANK J. OTERI: You have been one of the greatest musical heroes in my life. I first heard In C and A Rainbow in Curved Air when I was a high school student…

TERRY RILEY: You were a high school student when it came out?

FRANK J. OTERI: [laughter] No, I was born when it came out!

TERRY RILEY: Oh [laughter]

FRANK J. OTERI: But I was a high school student when I learned that your music existed. I found your records in a rock record shop in Greenwich Village and that was a pivotal moment for me, which is why I thought it would be interesting for us to start off talking about what your early influences were in your musical education and what shaped the kinds of decisions you’ve made as a composer and as a musician growing up. You mentioned radio and hearing old standards on the radio as you were growing up in the 30s and early 40s and I thought we could talk a little bit about that for starters.

TERRY RILEY: By the time the war broke out in ’41, my father joined the Marine Corps and after that he was sort of a professional Marine and we were living up in northern California and we kind of traveled around California during the war and lived with my grandmother and stuff like that. But I was never living in a big city like San Francisco or Los Angeles. I was always out in smaller rural areas and so my music education was kind of catch as catch can. I had an uncle who played the guitar, an uncle who played the trumpet, an aunt who played the accordion and that was my contact with the music world.

FRANK J. OTERI: What was the first instrument that you played?

TERRY RILEY: Violin. I started on the violin before the war and I was actually really enjoying it and was doing pretty well on violin. But then when the war broke out we moved to Los Angeles briefly ‘cuz my father had to take military training down there before he was shipped to the Pacific. And then that was the last; I had four months to six months on the violin. I think it was very, very basic you know. I think I could play the Marine Corps hymn though for my father which made him happy!

FRANK J. OTERI: So at what point did you decide in your life that you were going to be a musician and a composer?

TERRY RILEY: Well, I think I was very young. I mean I remember just always being obsessed and passionate about music when I heard it and deeply moved by it, you know. It was the important emotional event in my life to hear music and to really feel it and I don’t know if I formalized in my thinking that I was going to be a musician, but thinking back on it, it was the only thing I really felt obsessed by.

FRANK J. OTERI: Was there any particular music that you heard that you were more interested in than other music or was it everything?

TERRY RILEY: Uh, you know it was pretty much everything. When you’re young, like every new impression, any musical impression is a whole new universe, world and galaxy that comes into your life. So as it came in one by one I was tremendously excited to hear anything that I hadn’t heard before. As I said, in the beginning it was whatever was coming over the radio and at that time it was commercial radio. So mainly standards that you would hear…

FRANK J. OTERI: So when was the first time you heard western classical music?

TERRY RILEY: I think I was eight or nine when I started hearing occasional pieces of western classical music and around that time also my mother found a piano teacher for me because I had been playing a lot by ear and she thought I should, since I liked it so much, every time I’d go to someone’s house that had a piano I’d sit down and spend the time there at the piano. So they got me a piano and a piano teacher and she started introducing me to little pieces of Bach. And that was my first contact with western classical music.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now in your formative years growing up, did you ever think of there being a division between classical and popular music or was it all part of one?

TERRY RILEY: Never. I don’t think at the beginning especially not, but as I got older of course you know, then. By the time I got to high school I got the first really good music teacher that I’d ever had. I’d go to his house in the afternoon after classes and he’d play me all these really wonderful records in his collection and I was starting to hear for the first time Bartók and Stravinsky and other things of 20th century music and that was my last year of high school/first year of college.

FRANK J. OTERI: And at this point had you started writing your own music?

TERRY RILEY: I did a little. My teacher was writing a musical for the high school to perform. And he asked me to write one of the songs for it. So I think that was my first composition. I wrote a popular song for this musical.

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you still have that music anywhere or is it gone?

TERRY RILEY: I don’t have the music. I kind of remember it, but I don’t have it. Whatever was written down is gone.

Studying Composition and Discovering Jazz

FRANK J. OTERI: Now when you studied music formally at the university level, I know I heard this from La Monte Young when we all had dinner together, that you, La Monte, and David Del Tredici were all in a composition class together. What an exciting composition class that must have been! What sort of things were you writing at that point?

TERRY RILEY: The period you’re talking about is I think around 1960, ’61 in the UC Berkeley composition class. Around that time, I had gotten very interested in serial music, especially the piano music of Schoenberg, which I liked very much. I found this complete freedom, rhythmic freedom that I hadn’t experienced in other composers before and I wanted to experiment with that myself. So around that time, I was writing a set of piano pieces that were very much influenced by Schoenberg and yet when you look at them now, they’re still fairly tonal. They hold very close to certain centers and I didn’t use a tone row.

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you still acknowledge those pieces. If someone were interested in playing them, would you release them?

TERRY RILEY: Yes. I guess I would say from about those pieces I would say was my beginning. I wrote some pieces that I would still acknowledge before that, but unfortunately they’ve been lost in my moving around. I wrote some pieces, you know when I was at undergraduate school. A trio for clarinet, piano and violin which I liked very much, but…

FRANK J. OTERI: and it’s gone…

TERRY RILEY: …I can’t find it anywhere.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now, you were doing things you were influenced by Schoenberg and of course this was the same time that John Cage was doing a lot of his experiments with chance music and indeterminacy and also it was also this great decade for jazz. When did you start getting interested in jazz and improvisation? When did that really take hold?

TERRY RILEY: Uh, I’d say that my interest in jazz really took hold with the period of the Miles Davis Quintet, Thelonious Monk, Sonny Rollins, John Coltrane. This emergence in the late 50s and early 60s. It’s around that same time that I was going to UC Berkeley and also a lot due to La Monte because La Monte was a jazz musician and had been playing a lot in L.A. with lots of musicians. And he introduced me to a lot. He introduced me to Coltrane. I listened to Coltrane’s music for the first time.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now did you first meet La Monte in a composition class?

TERRY RILEY: Yeah.

The Birth of Minimalism and In C

FRANK J. OTERI: When you look toward the beginning of this thing that we now look back on and say “this is the birth of minimalism” it’s sort of hard to say who started what and who was really the originator. Most people acknowledge La Monte Young as the founder of minimalism. But certainly in terms of the use of repetition in music rather than the use of sustained notes, it’s really hard to find earlier examples than the examples of your early music. When you first started creating music based on the repetition of small melodic cells, what was the initial name for what you were doing? Did you feel there was any precedent for it?

TERRY RILEY: Naming it never, never entered my mind at that time. It was just something I was doing and that other people were doing. You know La Monte and I did a lot of improvising together around this period too because we were not only at UC Berkeley, we would grab a practice room with two pianos and play for hours together. And then we would go up to Anna Halprin‘s studio and improvise more freely with whatever she had in her studio, a piano or she had various percussion instruments… La Monte had this fascination with making friction sounds and we ended up doing the two sounds piece on marimbas. We spent a lot of time playing together and improvising together, but never thinking about for instance “is this a kind of music” or “is there something this should be called?” Uh, I think that came later. But I must say I think La Monte is the fountainhead of this modern music period that’s called minimalism in the sense that he defined very clearly in his mind and in his work as a very young man, the kind of space that minimalism holds. First of all you have this space, then it’s filled with something. Well La Monte filled it with long tones and he also worked with repetition like the Henry Flynt piece, I can’t remember the number.

FRANK J. OTERI: 1698.

TERRY RILEY: Whatever. This was a piece of repetition. He was definitely exploring a lot of ways, but his main focus since I’ve known him and I think it’s been an obsession with him is to make pieces based on long frequencies that can be experienced over long durations, especially his work with just intonation where this was a very important element. So in that sense, I’d say that it begins there.

FRANK J. OTERI: I think it might have been David Lang who said that for him and many younger composers, In C was what The Rite of Spring was for most composers in the first half of the Twentieth Century. This was the great liberating piece. And in 1964, when In C was written, whether your were practicing serialism or practicing indeterminacy–the last thing a cutting-edge composer wanted to reference was tonality. By calling a piece In C, you were proclaiming the work’s tonality and tonal center. What were the initial reactions to this piece in terms of other composers of the time who had heard it?

TERRY RILEY: Well you know In C was written in San Francisco in ’64. I had just come back. I’ll just give you a little background. I had just come back from Europe after spending two years there, so my main contact was with people like Ken Dewey who is a playwright. I was involved in theater with him and street theater. And I’d moved away from any world that had considerations for such things as atonality vs. tonality, or uptown vs. downtown or whatever. They weren’t even concerns of mine any more. I was very interested in just the little world that I inhabited at that time. So, when I came back to San Francisco, I’d had this idea about really wanting to write a piece because I worked with Chet Baker over in Europe and really had this chance to experience working with a real jazz musician for the first time. And the immediacy of that kind of music and also Chet was a wonderfully lyric and tonal, and thought in these terms. He was making mainstream jazz music.

FRANK J. OTERI: Right.

TERRY RILEY: So, I wanted to bring that into my music too. And also at time I’d been visiting Morocco and I was getting into their music. And that also was tonal. And had a lot to do with tradition, which I was starting to get interested in, musical traditions of other cultures in the world. But when I got back to San Francisco, I didn’t appear to me, I mean it really was an inspiration. I mean it wasn’t the piece that I thought I was going to write. This came to me all as a kind of vision so when I showed it to people, like musicians around San Francisco, there was general excitement but there was also a kind of wondering how it was going to work. And, you know, putting together the performance was a bit of a mystery. In C really was these formations of patterns that were kind of flying together. That’s how it came to me. It was like this kind of cosmic vision of patterns that were gradually transforming and changing. And I think the principal contribution to minimalism was this concept, it wasn’t just one pattern, it was this idea that patterns could be staggered and their composite forms became another kind of music.

FRANK J. OTERI: What I find so interesting about a piece like In C though is that it’s so much about the performers as well. You have these 53 cells, but the performers determine how many times they play them and how many times they’ll overlap. So, in a sense, it’s a natural outgrowth of Cage’s development of an indeterminate music, becuase there really is some chance involved with this. And it really allows the players the freedom to express themselves, to decide for themselves when to go on to the next measure and to create these multiple layers. It’s almost as if the musicians all have to listen to each other to hear… They’re creating the counterpoint to some extent.

TERRY RILEY: Right. That was a big concern of mine. And also, I didn’t want to have a conductor or someone who was telling the musicians what to do. I wanted them making their decisions based on their listening. Unfortunately, it’s hard to play as a large group like that and stay together. Those were th
e problems we were encountering when we first rehearsed, how to stay together.

FRANK J. OTERI: And that’s how eventually it was performed with the pulse. How did that come about?

TERRY RILEY: As you know, and this story’s been told. Steve Reich, who was in the group in the first performance, one day said “This isn’t working!” ‘Cuz we were all playing and couldn’t right in the groove with it. So uh, Jeannie Brecken, who was, I guess, Steve’s girlfriend at the time, starting playing on the top Cs of the piano and it just immediately helped the group immensely to focus and to stay together. And it became part of the piece.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now you’ve written other pieces like In C that don’t have the pulse, that are coming from the same basic idea. I’m thinking of the piece Olson III which is also based on cellular patterns…

TERRY RILEY: Well Olson III is a pulse piece, I mean, you know its, the whole thing is pulse because it only has eighth notes in it. It only has one note value. So it didn’t have the problems that In C had being that In C is polymetric. You have different meters going on simultaneously. It presents more problems of staying locked together. But Olson III has no meters. Essentially, they’re just all eighth notes even though the patterns are different lengths. There’s never any different note values that would create a little confusion about where the beat is.

FRANK J. OTERI: The pieces that you developed subsequently to that, I’m thinking of pieces like A Rainbow in Curved Air and the various incarnations of Poppy Nogood and the Phantom Band some of which last all night… Works that you had done with the time lag accumulator, basically allowed you to play In C-type pieces by yourself. They allowed you to have these cells, to throw them out there and they would keep repeating.

TERRY RILEY: Right. You could make fields of patterns again, but they came out, you know they were governed then by mechanical means of delay through tape manipulation.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now, Poppy Nogood you did on saxophone. You don’t really play saxophone anymore…

TERRY RILEY: I haven’t played saxophone since I started studying voice in Indian classical music.

Studying Indian Music

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, let’s talk about Indian classical music for a bit. You had three records out on Columbia Masterworks, In C, and then A Rainbow in Curved Air and then Church of Anthrax, the record you did with John Cale had come out. And, at that time, because of these records, you were in a way the most widely known minimalist composer, certainly much more visible than other people doing this music, although the term minimalism really wasn’t being used yet. But then, there was a period, I guess from about 1970 to 1980, when you stopped making records for Columbia and went off to study Indian music, which western composers would say is the opposite of a career path. You became a student again and, and it’s wonderful. But it’s the kind of humility that we rarely would see in somebody who was that successful at that time. What prompted those decisions?

TERRY RILEY: Well I think that there were two things involved. Uh, first of all, I met Pandit Pran Nath, that’s the main thing that prompted my decision. And I felt this immediate connection to him and his music that I had no control over. I was drawn to it. The other thing is that for me the late period of the 60s in New York when I was doing the recordings had reached a kind of point of completion.

FRANK J. OTERI: So, were they asking you for more recordings?

TERRY RILEY: Yeah, I had a contract you know to complete more recordings, unfortunately I didn’t complete it for another 10 years. They kept sending me notices to show up at the studio and I’d be in India or some place. You know I’d just forget about it. But, you know the thing is that I felt it was a good time, things had happened pretty fast you know with these pieces like In C, Rainbow, Poppy Nogood and I felt this was a good basis of work for me. And the next step for me was to learn more about how the modality of music works. And there’s no better place than India. ‘Cuz it’s a really old tradition. Plus the rhythmic complexity of Indian music fascinated me. So there were two things I really was interested in developing in myself. And I felt I could spend a lifetime trying to find these things out on my own, but here’s a person that knows it all. And why not try to absorb it through his teaching?

FRANK J. OTERI: Well certainly just as much as you and La Monte Young spawned this genre of music called minimalism which effected the entire classical music world, the work that you did also spawned a whole generation of rock musicians. The whole genre of psychedelic rock to a good extent comes out of the work that you were both doing in the earlier 60s, what wound up happening in the later 60s in rock music. But I think it’s fair to say at this point in the year 2001, you both also spawned yet another tradition. There are now so many American musicians who are playing non-European classical musics, which 40 years ago would have been unthinkable, but we now have American soloists who are not from India playing the sarod and the sitar, and Americans playing shakuhachi or playing in gamelan orchestras. And, and it raises some interesting questions about what is traditional and what makes somebody who is not from that tradition come to that tradition. And a lot of these players are fantastic, but it’s hard to book them for concerts because since they’re not of that tradition, audiences might not assume they’re as authentic. What has been your experience playing Indian music as a westerner?

TERRY RILEY: Well, you know one of the really great things about Pandit Pran Nath was he was able to give us an immediate kind of foundation for this kind of music. He was a great teacher. And he also had a very, very unique position in Indian classical music in that he himself synthesized several different styles. And he was a person that many people looked to for these rare compositions that he had gotten from many of the masters who have since passed on. So we were really lucky to receive from him some teachings that were quite rare and which some of the people in India didn’t have the opportunity to learn. So when we go back to India now and perform, I think we’re quite well appreciated. They especially like to hear some of these rare works that he was teaching us and that now are gone except for some of us Westerners who have managed to learn them from him.

FRANK J. OTERI: Did Pran Nath have Indian disciples as well?

TERRY RILEY: Yeah, but few. Most of his Indian disciples didn’t turn out to be professional musicians. There were only a few. A lot of them were people who loved his music, but they just did it for themselves. They didn’t do it professionally… For the last eight years, I’ve gone to India every winter with a group of students from the United States and some from Europe who have been interested in learning this music of Pandit Pran Nath. Pandit Pran Nath was alive until ’96 and was teaching this class for the first four years. And after he passed on, we continued to take these students over every year. In fact they’re going this year too.

FRANK J. OTERI: That’s right, they’re there right now.

TERRY RILEY: Well, they leave on the 21st I think of February to go. So this has been a really good connection for Americans who are interested in studying Indian classical music because a lot of the people from his tradition are in India, and join our group so we all work together and give concerts and there’s a lot of interaction and we perform for each other.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now at this point, do you have Indian students who are studying music from you or studying these ragas of Pran Nath’s?

TERRY RILEY: Occasionally I will, but most of my students are Western.

FRANK J. OTERI: Because you’re based here most of the year.

TERRY RILEY: Yeah, but you know there’s no reason an American can’t… It’s like jazz, you know, some people say things like only a black man can play jazz. Actually, if you can do it, you can do it. And God knows, why a person can do it if they can.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, as I like to say when people raise the question of authenticity, I say we
ll you have no problems with an American string quartet playing Beethoven. All of the world’s music belongs to the whole world.

TERRY RILEY: Yeah, and you know there’s a tremendous amount of hard work that goes behind all of this too. It isn’t that we just took one or two lessons and went out and started singing raga. I mean that’s thirty years of work and long hours of practice and study. So eventually something has to come out.

Solo Keyboard Improvisations

FRANK J. OTERI: Right. Now at the same time that you were studying raga, you were doing a lot of solo keyboard improvisations and I believe around this time you started working with just intonation scales. I’m thinking now of Descending Moonshine Dervishes, and then Shri Camel which was the record that finally fulfilled the Columbia Masterworks contract which I’m so glad finally came out because it’s one of my favorite records of yours. And it was so interesting hearing raga one night followed by solo keyboard from you here in Houston this week. How do you feel these two streams of your music have influenced each other?

TERRY RILEY: Well I don’t think there’s an awful lot of influence coming from my Western music roots or my own compositional roots, although I will say that sometimes when I’m singing raga I do feel that I get into a different kind of feeling than just purely Indian tradition. And I think it has to do possibly with phrasing that maybe is coming more from jazz, some combinational. But there’s so much in Indian music. It’s such a large tradition that it’s hard to find anything in it that you do that isn’t related to it, except for say complex chord changes which they don’t have. And you don’t do this in raga any way.

FRANK J. OTERI: Right, but certainly your keyboard music definitely is informed by your study of raga. And I guess that’s where you add the complex chord progressions to the raga-like melodies.

TERRY RILEY: With the keyboard music I feel it’s kind of an anything goes palate. Especially since I improvise a lot, whatever I’m hearing at the time, I like to try to pursue. You know, follow in a spontaneous way. There’s definitely, you know the study of Indian music and all the tetrachords that make up the raga, all the different little tonal modules that make up the ragas are, are so pregnant with feeling and emotion that as you’re playing you’ll suddenly be starting to hear one of these and then it’ll start dominating the improvisation that this particular modal flavor will become the dominant mood. So it’s a powerful influence on anything I do on the keyboard.

Just Intonation

FRANK J. OTERI: Now the decision to retune the piano into just intonation. At first you were doing it with electric keyboards, but then later you played on a retuned acoustic piano. I’m thinking of my favorite solo piano recording of yours, The Harp of New Albion. What prompted the decision to work in just intonation? Was that also derived from working with La Monte and talking to La Monte?

TERRY RILEY: Of course The Well Tuned Piano is a real monument in just intonation piano, and was beckoning me to also work in this way. The piano becomes a totally different instrument when you retune it. You know it doesn’t sound like the European piano. It becomes a much more pure instrument. The overtones start reinforcing themselves, each other. And you start getting a different timbre out of the piano. So it’s a real temptation to retune the piano to create music. Plus, when you have a tuning you actually have a piece. If you retune the piano, that tuning actually will create a piece. So you’d have as many times as you’ll retune it, you’ll have that many pieces. You know, and you just have to change intervals slightly in it to create a different color in the piano. I’m sure it’s something that will be explored more and more in the future. The only problem is that pianos are quite tedious to retune and to stabilize. It takes many days of tuning. So it’s labor intensive and it drives a lot people away from trying it. Plus it’s hard to find a venue that will let you take a piano for three or four days and just hold it there in that tuning because usually there’s demand for other people to use it.

FRANK J. OTERI: Right, so now when you tour you mostly play pianos in twelve equal.

TERRY RILEY: Especially if I’m doing one nighters. You know.

FRANK J. OTERI: Right

TERRY RILEY: If I’m going here to there there’s just no time to do it. It has to be set up so that you have several days in the place where you’re going to play the retuned piano.

String Quartets & Other Chamber Music

FRANK J. OTERI: I would dare say you spawned yet another thing in contemporary music when the Kronos Quartet asked you to write a string quartet for them. Before that happened I think a lot of composers were really ignoring the string quartet. And since that’s happened, the string quartet is so alive and now there are quartets all over the country and all over the world playing new music in a variety of styles and to some extent I think that the collaboration with Kronos in the mid-80s is responsible for that. What prompted you to write music for them after years of not writing music for other people?

TERRY RILEY: Well, as you know, I didn’t write any music down in the 70s, that was a period where I was in a non-notational mood so when David Harrington came to Mills College where I was teaching, he started talking to me right away about writing a string quartet. Now I love string quartets. I’d written one in college, and Bartók… At one time I sat and listened to Bartók string quartets for hours on end just because I loved those pieces of his so much. And so it wasn’t really hard, I didn’t resist it too much when he suggested writing a string quartet. It was a little hard for me to get warmed up to writing music again because I’d gotten into this totally non-notational frame of mind. I saw music as a spontaneous sonic event that had no paper and pencil involved at all.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now since you’ve written those string quartets, and you’ve written quite a few at this point, you’ve also written for a number of other ensembles, I’m thinking most notably of the wonderful work you did with the Rova Saxophone Quartet. In some ways the saxophone quartet is a wind equivalent of a string quartet in that you have the same sonority translated across a range of instruments. Are there any other ensembles that you like writing for as well as this point?

TERRY RILEY: Well I’ve written for Zeitgeist who I enjoyed working with. A lot of times I’ll write just because of the musicians. You know, not necessarily that they’re playing any particular instrument but the musicians themselves seem to be the kind of people that I think would be really devoted to the kind of thing I write. And that’s what it requires for a really good collaboration. Since I played saxophone, I ended up writing a lot of saxophone quartets, you know I’ve written a couple since the Rova and I’m writing one right now.

The Orchestra vs. Intimacy

FRANK J. OTERI: You haven’t written much music for orchestra. Certainly in today’s society, the orchestra is not really a medium that’s amenable to personal contact. Often times you’ll get two or three rehearsals and that’ll be the end of it. There’ll be one performance and that’ll be the piece. It’s a shame though, because I know I heard a piece that you did for the Brooklyn Philharmonic which I thought was fantastic. And I thought: “Wow I’d love to hear more Terry Riley orchestral music.” How can composers create music for large ensembles at this point in time and maintain that personal contact which I think is so crucial to the success of your music, but the success of so much other music as well?

TERRY RILEY: Well, if you have someone you can collaborate with, if I had a conductor who said: “I’ll put the same amount of work into your orchestral music as Kronos put in the string quartets.” That would be a good starting point, but that’s economically unfeasible today, conductors can’t usually commit too much time. Occasionally, there’ll be some work that they’ll devote a lot of time to. But everything I’ve done… I’ve done three pieces for full orchestra and a couple of string orchestra pieces and they’ve all been under-rehearsed, I mean really under-rehearsed and except for I’d say my string quartet concerto, The Sands which the Kronos had played…

FRANK J. OTERI: That’s a great piece.

TERRY RILEY: Yeah, that got rehearsed more and that’s what it takes. I think the other problem is the kind of things I like to happen in music I think work best with lighter forces because it’s more mobile and rhythms can shift faster and there’s more clarity. Orchestras are fairly ponderous and it’s sometimes hard to get some of these really active shifts in tempo and things that I like to get and have them be clear. You know, have them be able to play with the clarity of a small jazz ensemble or something.

FRANK J. OTERI: You’ve also improvised music with other players, both Western musicians and musicians of other traditions. You mentioned Krishna Bhatt earlier this week. How do you perceive the difference as a composer looking at a work where you’re collaborating with others, playing music with others, versus when you’re writing a piece of music for others?

TERRY RILEY: Well, again there we have to have a lot of time to rehearse together. Krishna Bhatt and I have really spent a lot of time sitting together doing music. Both traditional raga and some so-called fusion-type things which evolve from Western musical principles. So that to me the main element is just hanging out with the person so long that you start thinking alike.

Music Theater & a Vocal In C

FRANK J. OTERI: You actively perform. You tour around the world. You write music for other people. You also are still studying music. You’re still listening. You’re still paying attention to so much stuff that’s going on. What do you want to do next? What do you feel you would like to accomplish at this point?

TERRY RILEY: Well, I think one of things that I’m kind of interested in going back and working in more is the theatrical kind of situations for music which I really enjoy a lot. I did this little opera a few years ago called The Saint Adolf Ring which was a very small chamber opera. There were only three of us on stage. It involved videos and some very elaborate stage sets and I enjoy that very much because it made me think about music in different terms because of the theatricality of it. I’m not interested in really big operas, but I am interested in working more… I just did the music for a Michael McClure play, the poet Michael McClure, called Josephine the Mouse Singer and I found it really stimulates my imagination a lot to, to write for the stage. I get ideas very quickly and it seems to be a very spontaneous way to work.

FRANK J. OTERI: And the singing that comes out of that, is that informed by your own singing as well?

TERRY RILEY: Yeah, like for The Saint Adolf Ring for instance, the singing in it was somewhere in between jazz and Indian music. Because Woelfli, the person this opera was about, is German, I also tried to do some singing in Swiss Deutsch which he wrote in. And also, he was schizophrenic so he wrote in languages that don’t really exist. I mean he wrote kind of nonsense words and I set those and then I sang them in kind of a German, but not operatic, but you know folk music style.

FRANK J. OTERI: So in terms of the kind of singers you would want to work with on this, the standard operatic bel canto singing used for Verdi and Puccini doesn’t really work with this.

TERRY RILEY: Well, it could. I would like to see for theater works a mixture of singers. So that some might be bel canto, but then you might have a singer with no vibrato I mean from an Indian style or a jazz scat singer. I would like to have a theater piece that would mix singing styles. I think there’s places and of course there’s different approaches to bel canto singing too. There are some Western musicians who have very, very fine control on their vibrato so that they’re not just doing it indiscriminately.

FRANK J. OTERI: In the performance of In C that you’re doing with the Bang On A Can All-Stars tonight, you’re singing with them. It sort of brings our talk full circle because I’m hearing things in In C that I never heard before hearing you sing it. I’m hearing connections to much older modal music traditions than I ever heard in it before. Is that part of the reason why you’re performing it this way tonight?

TERRY RILEY: In recent performances of In C, I’ve been singing more and more and not only me, but I’ve brought in other singers too and I think the vocal aspect of this is a good addition to it. And it probably, as you said, gives the setting of In C a different context. You start listening to it as maybe part of old music, or part of Renaissance music. I think the voice always adds some kind of humanizing quality to it.

Robert Ashley: You Can’t Call It Anything Else But Opera


Robert Ashley at his home in New York City
March 13, 2001, 1:00pm
Transcribed by Julia Lu
Filmed by Jenny Undercofler

FRANK J. OTERI: I’ve been following your music for over 20 years and am a huge fan of your work which is often hard to describe to people who’ve never experienced it. It doesn’t seem to fit neatly in any particular musical tradition. Where do you see yourself fitting within traditions?

ROBERT ASHLEY: Well, for one thing there is a tradition in America from the 1950s of composers like myself doing their own production and running their own ensemble because in the beginning of the 1950s, any sort of new ideas were excluded from performances. Many of the people in my generation started doing their own performances with their own ensembles because that was the only way you could get the music done. That was the only way that you could rely on people who would be sympathetic to your music. And the coming of electronic technology meant that composers could actually produce real music. Composers could actually produce real music under their own control. And so I think that I fit within that tradition. I know there is a huge tradition of music from Europe that was being performed in the 1950s, but the financial possibilities of that situation were not available to us. The U.S. government was putting enormous amounts of money into rebuilding Europe after the war. And so that huge activity in Europe in the 1950s and 60s actually sort of recapitulated the European tradition from before the war. There were orchestras, there were publishers, and there were composers, but that situation of the composer writing and the publisher publishing the work and then the work getting performed by an orchestra was not available to us.

FRANK J. OTERI: When you refer to new ideas that emerged in the 50s among a whole generation of composers, certainly you studied music from composers an earlier generation: Wallingford Riegger, Ross Lee Finney, Leslie Bassett… What was the reception to your ideas when you were studying composition? Were they supported? Were they not supported? And when did you feel that you made a shift away from the compositional aesthetics of your teachers?

ROBERT ASHLEY: I think that the 1950s were a kind of turning point for many people like myself because they had been fearless during the ’30s and ’40s. There was an academic network. I mean academic in the sense that all universities were connected and they played a certain kind of music that I didn’t write. I wasn’t interested in that at all. I didn’t want to write that music. So I didn’t feel myself to be a part of that network.

FRANK J. OTERI: What music did you grow up listening to?

ROBERT ASHLEY: I was like every American composer. I grew up listening to jazz. I grew up thinking that I might be a professional musician doing arrangements for The Tonight Show or something like that. I didn’t actually think of myself as a composer. I didn’t realize that I wanted to be a composer until the middle 1950s. I was probably 25 years old before I even thought of myself as a composer. I didn’t even know what a composer was. I didn’t study composition as an undergraduate. I studied theory and I studied piano and I was a pretty good pianist playing European piano repertory. It only occurred to me gradually that I didn’t want to do that for the rest of my life. That wasn’t my cup of tea. And so it took me a few years to figure out who I was and what I was going to be doing.

FRANK J. OTERI: So the question that you would have asked yourself then that I’m going to ask you now is do you view yourself as a classical composer. And, if so, what does that mean?

Robert Ashley
Robert Ashley
photo by Joanne Savio

ROBERT ASHLEY: In musicology there is a classical period: Mozart, Beethoven… As you know it starts coming apart when you hit Brahms and Liszt and that kind of stuff. But in America classical music meant anything that lasted more than three minutes and that you went to a concert to hear and that was played by an orchestra or a string quartet or something like that. And everything fell under that, under that title of classical music. I don’t think for any of us there was a distinction between Beethoven and Ravel. It was just classical music. That’s what classical music was.

FRANK J. OTERI: By the ’50s with the advent of long playing records, jazz recordings started lasting longer than three minutes. You weren’t limited by the length of a 78-rpm record. So you could have Thelonious Monk or Miles Davis doing something for seven and a half minutes, eight minutes.

ROBERT ASHLEY: Yeah, but seven and a half, eight minutes is not very much compared to a symphony or something like that. It was big for jazz. I mean jazz is a whole different kettle of fish. And, even though I probably learned a lot from thinking that I might be a jazz musician, it finally occurred to me after a couple of years of playing in jazz ensembles that I wasn’t very good at it. I couldn’t be Bud Powell. I couldn’t be Thelonious Monk. And the other part of it was that I wasn’t all that interested. So the whole think sort of like just stopped in the late ’50s. I stopped being interested in jazz. There were exceptions. I mean I read reviews, I listened to Miles, and I listened to John Coltrane. But all that stuff I learned while I was in my ’20s like Charlie Parker and those guys, I pretty much stopped doing. I didn’t want to do it anymore.

FRANK J. OTERI: There’s certainly a freedom involved among jazz groups that in the beginning helped to shape your view of how to work with an ensemble.

ROBERT ASHLEY: Yeah, yeah, certainly my idea of an ensemble is deeply related to the jazz idea of an ensemble. But I never thought of myself as writing jazz music. It’s more a condition of how you write music in America than it is a matter of influences. In the ensembles I worked with in the 1960s, I was not trying to make a new kind of jazz. It just came out to be eight or ten people because that’s all one could afford to do.

FRANK J. OTERI: Was it then a new kind of classical music using the American sense of classical being anything from Beethoven to Ravel as you said?

ROBERT ASHLEY: Yeah, but it’s hard in an interview like this to know where to start talking about how that music differs fr
om so-called classical music which in effect meant European music, without starting to get very technical which is so boring. All I can say is that the important thing in the 1950s and 1960s for me and a lot of my colleagues was that there came to be this specific interest in the sound texture… I don’t know what Europeans would call this, but there seemed to be an interest in the sound as such. And, so all of those old rules of European music, harmonic architecture and other things that were intrinsic to classical music sort of went out the window. I mean we just abandoned them.

FRANK J. OTERI: A lot of people in the classical music industry say that they can’t define classical music, but they know what it sounds like. But if you already know what it’s going to sound like, why listen?

ROBERT ASHLEY: Right. I agree with you entirely.

FRANK J. OTERI: I would venture to argue that there’s something very inherently American about what you do as a composer. I know that you referenced European composers working with sound and texture, but I think that the road you followed would not have been possible for a European composer to do.

ROBERT ASHLEY: I think that’s true. I think it’s true because I think that a typical European composer in those times, we’re talking about ancient history now but, typical European composers would have had all the resources at their command so they could expect to work with an orchestra or they can expect to work with an opera company; whereas, for American composers that was simply out of the question. So what happened was that, for better or worse without assigning any cause to it, there came to be for me, at least, a new kind of music which was focussed on the sound of the instant–without respect to any sort of structural form that you expected to satisfy in the next twenty minutes or the next hour and a half. You didn’t expect the chord to change; you expected to continue listening to the sound and the very subtle changes in the sound so that the listeners’ interest was more focused on the sound at any instant.

FRANK J. OTERI: I think that one of things that seems to inform the path you took was that you grew up listening to jazz and watching The Tonight Show.

ROBERT ASHLEY: Well that was only thing I knew.

FRANK J. OTERI: Yeah, but that’s so inherently American! The classical tradition, Beethoven, Brahms and all of that is not necessarily what you would have had all around you. What you had around you was popular culture, recordings, television, our popular culture, our commodity culture which if anything is our largest and most visible contribution to the world at large, and I think even now, 50 years later, your music is still engaged in a very interesting dialogue with popular culture. Like Dust, which I was so amazed by when I saw it at The Kitchen a couple years ago. There were moments in it that are almost pop songs.

ROBERT ASHLEY: Well, that’s because of the particular subject of that opera. That opera was about people who are on the margins of society. The opera actually moves through different groups of people who are marginalized until finally, when you get to the last four songs, you get to people who are marginalized because they’re old. I mean they’re old people. So the reason for me making those kind of popular music productions of those words was that in the plot of the opera, this is what the hero of the opera heard on the radio when he was in the hospital. They’re not popular music in the strict sense because they’re too long to be popular music, they’re too narrative to be popular music because the hero of the opera has been thinking about them for a long time so he’s made a little drama around each of those songs. If those songs were made today, there would be a statement about the reason why the song is being sung. You know: “I’m in love with you,” or “You’re not in love with me,” or something like that… And then there’s a hook and then you return to that. You keep reinforcing that image, that simple, simple image of the thing. Whereas in Dust when we get to the last four songs the hero has been thinking about these energies for a long time so he’s made little narratives of these. So it’s a little different than popular music.

FRANK J. OTERI: There are definitely popular song hooks even in many of your other operas. I’m thinking about “I Would Do It Again,” in the Bank scene of Perfect Lives, or “Hold Me Tighter” that little chorus in Atalanta…that’s very much like a Beach Boys song.

ROBERT ASHLEY: Well it’s true. In the 1960s I was working in Detroit, and I had good friends who were trying to produce at Motown and one good friend in particular asked me to write him some songs that he could produce. And so it was very natural for me to write those songs because I had been listening to those my whole life. So I simply wrote the songs. And then, when I got to Perfect Lives, which had this… How do you say it? It recapitulates a series of moments in my life. I put those sounds in as kind of landmarks or labels for that time. I mean I purposely put the song in because it serves as a kind of label for that particular moment in my life.

FRANK J. OTERI: So were those songs that you had written earlier?

ROBERT ASHLEY: Oh yeah, I wrote all those songs in the 1960s, hoping that they would be produced for Motown, but they never were….

FRANK J. OTERI: Well that’s too bad. That would have funded all the operas!

ROBERT ASHLEY: That would have funded everything I ever did.

FRANK J. OTERI: Although you said that what you do is not classical music, you use words to describe your compositions which clearly place you in that tradition, words like opera, concerto, sonata. You wrote for string quartet… These terms are all very malleable. What does the word opera mean to you?

ROBERT ASHLEY: Well, opera means that you’re telling a story with music. I know that my operas don’t sound like Puccini, but the idea is to tell a rather complicated story over an hour and half with a lot of characters where the telling of the story is based on the musical forms to the same degree that it happens in Puccini, but in a different manner. The problem is that you don’t have any words. I wish I had a different word so I didn’t have to use the word opera because that causes a lot of confusion and it causes people to ask me silly questions. I mean not you, but people ask me silly questions like: “What right do you have to call your work opera?” And I say it’s because I don’t have another word. There is no other word that everybody understands for the notion of telling a long story based on musical forms.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well what do you think of the term musical theater?

ROBERT ASHLEY: Musical theater is all within Broadway. I mean it meant Broadway in the 1950s and I think it still means Broadway. And that’s really nice if you like it, but I don’t happen to do it.

FRANK J. OTERI: So you think it’s a more specific term than opera?

ROBERT ASHLEY: No, I just think it’s a label. It’s a label that people put on music in the 1930s and ’40s. If you say musical theater to people, they automatically think of Stephen Sondheim or Andrew Lloyd Webber or something like that. You can’t say I do musical theater and then put on something like Dust because it seems like you made a mistake.

Robert Ashley
A scene from Robert Ashley’s Dust
Photo by Yukihiro Yoshihara

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, it’s interesting because a lot of American operas, like the works of Menotti and Beeson or even John Adams, are not really that far away from some of the things that Stephen Sondheim has done, you know like Sweeney Todd, or even things that Frank Loesser or even Rodgers and Hammerstein were doing back in the 1950s.

ROBERT ASHLEY: I can’t answer the question because I’m not the expert on musical theater. I listened to musical theater until South Pacific and then I more or less stopped. I can’t say anything about Stephen Sondheim, because I’ve never seen a Stephen Sondheim production. So I don’t know what musical theater is today.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, it’s funny hearing how things that come from such different worlds sometimes connect. I was listening to eL/Aficionado the other morning and I heard a section that actually reminded me of Sondheim. And I thought this is amazing because I’m sure that Robert Ashley doesn’t listen to Sondheim and that Sondheim doesn’t listen to Robert Ashley. When musics that are seemingly worlds apart somehow meet each other, it really shows that there’s a lot of common ground.

ROBERT ASHLEY: Well, eL/Aficionado was written for Tom Buckner who is devoted to jazz. And so I wrote a series of jazz-type chord progressions with the notion that they would be played at any speed. In other words, the chord didn’t have to change every four beats. The chord could last three minutes or something like that. But the chord progression was always the same. And I think it’s a nice chord progression! I wouldn’t be surprised if you heard a coincidence between that and Stephen Sondheim because he must also write chord progressions. There’s no way out of that unless you’re writing serial music or unless you’re working in some other system like such as just intonation like Harry Partch or Terry Riley. Unless you’re working in one of those systems, if you’re simply writing chord changes in equal temperament, inevitably there’s going to be a coincidence between eL/Aficionado and Stephen Sondheim depending on how fast that particular section of eL/Aficionado is going. In other words if we’re playing it so that the chords are changing every four beats it’s gonna sound more like Stephen Sondheim than if the chords are changing every thirty seconds.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, it’s true that there are only so many things you can do with 12-tone equal temperament. But I think there’s actually a larger convergence here. One of the things that I’m hearing is a sense of setting vernacular American English. Paying attention to the words, which is what I think is lacking in a lot of operatic music that fashions itself after European models. There are lines that sing well in Italian that just don’t work in English. I think the Broadway people understand that and have created a vernacular American opera and there certainly are American composers that have created operas that have played into that, but what you’ve done that I think is extraordinarily, is that your operas are really about language.

ROBERT ASHLEY: Well, without wanting to insult any of my friends, I’ve always been unhappy with American English set to a European musical form. Because American English, American English doesn’t sing that way. American English has always been most successful as words. It’s always been most successful in popular music and it’s been that way in probably in musical theater since like George M. Cohan. I just decided that I was going to write operas where we speak English. And therefore, I had to figure out a new way to make English fit with the music. And I’ll be the first to admit that I have learned a lot from listening to pop music. I learned more about writing opera from listening to Chuck Berry and the Beach Boys that I did from listening to Puccini or Wagner because in Italian, of course, every word rhymes with every other word and because of the vowels that means that there’s this huge tradition of hundreds of years o
f Italian opera for vowel embellishment that is very beautiful. It just doesn’t happen to work in English because we don’t have the vowels.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, it’s interesting because with European languages you can have these fluid lines, these melismatic lines with long tone utterances. But English is so clipped. All the words get chopped up. And it demands shorter note values; it demands a clipped style. And it’s not just American English. I think the reason the British didn’t produce a world class composer of opera in the 18th and 19th centuries is that English in general doesn’t work in this style and that’s why, contra-positively, the British are the only ones besides the Americans who seem to have international pop music that’s successful. The clipped style of pop doesn’t work in Italian…

ROBERT ASHLEY: You’re exactly right. You can’t set English words to Puccini; you can’t set English words to Wagner. You can only set English words to some kind of music that accommodates the words, or else the words lose all their meaning. And the most exciting part is that it keeps changing constantly. It keeps changing constantly in the world of popular music and for me personally it keeps changing, not because I want to imitate popular music, but because the language of the street keeps changing in spite of me or what my intention might be. We’re not in a world of Cole Porter or of Yip Harburg anymore. We’re now in the world of Snoop Dog and Little Bow-Wow. I mean we’re in a new world!

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, let’s talk about hip-hop for a second… In rap music, text is supreme; everything is driven by the text: every beat, every sound, there aren’t melodic lines in the conventional sense of what a melodic line is. There are contours that are melodic contours, but they’re all derived from the text.

ROBERT ASHLEY: Well, the problem in discussing hip-hop with somebody who doesn’t like hip-hop is that they don’t hear the melodies. There’s no difference in the quality of the melody in any good hip-hop record now. There are so many I can’t even name them. But there’s no difference in the quality of the melody between that song and something like Billie Holiday for instance. It’s just that the world has changed, the street language has changed and now you have to tune our ears to be able to hear that the very best hip-hop singers are singing exactly in tune. It might be going a little too fast; the melody might be going a little too fast for you to perceive it as melody, but there’s no doubt that there’s melody.

FRANK J. OTERI: What struck me as so exciting about hip-hop in the 1990s was that all of a sudden there was a reintroduction of discernable melody in the old fashioned sense among some rappers, but it was still informed by the inflection of speech patterns. I’m thinking of groups like Arrested Development, P.M. Dawn, or The Fugees where the rapper will suddenly start rapping on a melody which is a clearly discernable tune as opposed to a sprechstimme speech-song-type thing, but it’s so derived from speech that it flows off the tongue like speech. Which is precisely what the best Italian vocal music does. In that sense, rap is like Puccini because if you speak Italian you’ll instantly be able to understand the words from the shape of Puccini’s melodies.

ROBERT ASHLEY: I’m not a hip-hop producer so I don’t know what drives those things, but I listen to hip-hop all the time. I’ve noticed that there are a lot of references now to black music in the 1960s, there are a lot of references to Motown, there are a lot of references I mean if you just turn on the top 10 hip-hop videos tonight at 6 o’clock on the Black Entertainment Network, you’ll hear at least one that’ll remind you of the Supremes or something like that.

Robert Ashley
Robert Ashley rapping in his opera, Perfect Lives
photo courtesy Robert Ashley

FRANK J. OTERI: They’re sampling earlier music.

ROBERT ASHLEY: Yeah, but they’re also singing in that style. So, the changes in popular music are… I don’t know what you’d call it… they’re design changes for consumer purposes, but I think that for composers, clearly, the most powerful force is to make the words rhythmic in the way you imagine that rhythm could express the words. I mean you distort the street rhythms in order to make them more beautiful or whatever. But at the same time you keep the street rhythms and you do that irrespective of whether you’re making a reference to Marvin Gaye or whether you’re trying to go way out there you know.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, one of the interesting things about hip-hoppers sampling earlier music how it fits into the whole do-it-yourself aesthetic; it was born from limited resources. The first rappers didn’t have access to guitars or keyboards or anything like that so they rapped on top of earlier records. In a way, that situation is not very different from your own in the 1950s when you decided to work with electronics because you didn’t have access to an orchestra or an opera company. Of course, 50 years ago it was a lot different, but now people are creating MIDI symphonies. And so a piece of yours like Superior Seven is an “orchestral” piece, but there’s no orchestra.

ROBERT ASHLEY: Well, it’s an orchestra piece but it’s only rarely been played because it’s not conducted and it’s not structured in the orchestral tradition. In Superior Seven, which is the so-called flute concerto, the conductor has nothing to do with the beat, the ongoing time of the orchestra. The conductor functions entirely as a person balancing the different elements of the orchestra in the same way that you would do at a mixing keyboard. And so the music, the music, the rhythm, the mood and the feeling of the thing operate independently of the conductor. I mean it would not be as good sounding if there was not a conductor to bring the violins down and to bring the woodwinds up and these kinds of things. But the music could go on without a conductor at all. The music is entirely independent of the conductor. The conductor functions simply as a person who is at a mixing console.

FRANK J. OTERI: So has it been done with live orchestra in performance?

ROBERT ASHLEY: Yeah. We, we had a very good performance in Marseilles. It started with the usual problem of resources. It was commissioned by Barbara Held. We started with two pianos and I got the idea of layering the orchestra parts in the same way one would layer parts in an electronic orchestra. And we kept adding parts. And then Barbara moved to Spain… We had a beautiful performance a couple years ago in Marseilles with a wonderful America flutist named Lisa Hansen. And then I had another performance a year or so ago in Los Angeles which was conducted by David Rosenboom which used members of the Los Angeles Philharmonic and faculty members from CalArts and that kind of thing. And when a conductor understands that…how should I say this… when the conductor’s of our time and he understands that he’s not conducting the orchestra, he’s balancing the different parts, you can get beautiful changes of character and changes of mood with the orchestra. I should say in that piece, there’s also the possibility that the orchestra could just stop and there are dozens of places within that so called concerto where the flutist, in collaboration with the person doing the electronic processing can insert a so-called cadenza into the middle of the piece which has nothing to do with the time of the piece. In other words, the orchestra could stop playing and the flute player goes on someplace else. And then when the flute player finishes the cadenza, they resume their activities for the rest of the piece.

FRANK J. OTERI: I’ve actually never heard your music done by another group. Everything I’ve heard has been something that you’ve been intimately connected with.

ROBERT ASHLEY: That’s almost always the case.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s interesting to hear what happens when you take yourself out of the mix.

ROBERT ASHLEY: Well, it’s not as interesting. I mean, the only reason I became a musician as opposed to a banker or a civil servant is because I wanted to perform music. I can’t live without performing music, so it’s always interesting to me in those rare cases where somebody performs my music and I’m not in it. But it’s not very interesting. It’s most interesting to me when I’m with the ensemble and we’re making music together. That’s what I call living.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, that’s another sort of generation shift. It’s not about writing notes on paper and then getting someone else to do it. It is “performance-oriented music.” This phrase sounds weird because how could you have music that isn’t performance oriented? But I think there’s something about your music from the very beginning that really is keyed into the notion that you’re a performer and that you have experiences as a performer. It’s like Galileo coming along and dropping heavy and light objects off the Tower of Pisa to prove they’d land at the same time. Before people believed the heavier object would land first because no one ever tried it. And I’m thinking that your music is so much what it is because you’ve actually tried things yourself as a performer. There’s always a kind of “what if” quality to your music. Even back in a piece like The Wolfman… What happens if you play around with feedback? That’s something you couldn’t conceptualize on paper without physically having done it first.

ROBERT ASHLEY: You can write the instructions on paper, but unless the person who’s reading those instructions has some experience with feedback in different situations, it might as well be written in some other language. Taking The Wolfman as an example, in most performances including my own, because we were doing it in a relatively small space, in order to get the level of feedback with movements of your voice, contrary to what you’ve read in the paper, the actual vocalization of the The Wolfman is probably the softest, vocal piece every written. But those soft changes in your voice, by modulating the feedback as it were, make the music. Just a couple of years ago, Mimi Johnson and I were in Barcelona and we went to one of the enormous cathedrals in Barcelona and we got there just as the mass was supposed to begin and the sound engineer for that cathedral made the level of the sound wrong so as soon as the priest walked up to the microphone and as soon as he closed the microphone with his voice, there started to be feedback, but because of the huge space of the cathedral, the resonant feedback of the thing was actually in the voice range. So he was doing The Wolfman without knowing it. And, and I said, it sounded like Gregorian chant, because all of the feedback was actually in the pitched range of his voice, and I whispered to Mimi like that this is the way The Wolfman would sound if I did it in this cathedral. You know, it wouldn’t sound deafening or anything like that. It would sound like somebody was singing along with him.

FRANK J. OTERI: Wow!

ROBERT ASHLEY: Oh yeah.

FRANK J. OTERI: So then the trick is imparting these ideas to other people. Certainly, in working with Tom Buckner and Joan LaBarbara and Jacqueline Humbert and your son Sam, your core ensemble, you can do things that you probably couldn’t do if you said, “OK, take five people and do a performance of Your Money My Life Goodbye. Other people probably wouldn’t get it if you’d never worked with them.

ROBERT ASHLEY: My ensemble is a dream come true. I’ve said as a joke to Tom Hamilton that I never write anything that I can’t do myself, but of course I can’t sound like Joan LaBarbara, I can’t sound like Tom Buckner, and I can’t sound like Jackie Humbert. But it’s all very practical in the sense that I actually perform music before I send it to them. If I could tell you a little anecdote… We started doing a concert…We had just done the first performance in Cologne. I started doing a concert of two of the longer sections of Atalanta with just Jacqueline Humbert and me and Tom Hamilton producing the sound. In the case of one of those things, it’s called “Empire,” I had made the rehearsal track for Jacqueline and myself in 5 beats per measure. And when she came and we started rehearsing, it was clear that five beats per measure was not enough. I mean even though I had been sort of conceptually rehearsing it in five beats per measure, I never actually had the time or had taken the trouble to try to do the whole thing myself in five beats per measure. And when we did it a couple of times, we realized that five beats per measure was just wrong. And so Tom Hamilton added one beat per measure for each, for the whole song. So, in a sense, we recomposed a very important part of that song, of that aria or whatever you want to call it right here in the studio as a result of performance. I mean as a result of working with it and seeing that we didn’t have enough room because it was crowding the English.

FRANK J. OTERI: The whole notion of compositional control in some ways is really absent from your work. Getting back this notion of musical theater and jazz, I think your music grows out of a result of collaboration and from not necessarily having a fixed form. It’s very much an open structure and you work with the performers and in some ways you allow the performers to create a lot of the content, what the listener is hearing, whether it’s the melodic line or the rhythm or even in some instances, the harmonic progressions, I’m thinking back to Perfect Lives where all the harmonic progressions were provided by “Blue” Gene Tyranny.

ROBERT ASHLEY: Yeah.

FRANK J. OTERI: And in some of the orchestrations where the MIDI orchestration is done with Tom Hamilton. You share that part of the process with other people, which is very unusual for a composer to do.

ROBERT ASHLEY: Well, it’s very important to me, because I never wanted to be a solo musician. I enjoy more than anything in life making music with people. So that when I come to a situation where I write the piece, where what I’ve composed needs some sort of deep collaboration, it’s very easy for me to just give that idea over to somebody else so that it refreshes the piece. I mean it’s a better idea than my idea. You know. In other words, when we started working on Perfect Lives, I said to Blue Gene, you know I can write the chord changes, but then you have to spend a year learning the chord changes, and then you have to improvise on my chord changes, which might not be so interesting to you. So why don’t you write the chords because that’s what you’re gonna improvise on. I mean it doesn’t have anything to do with the template of what pitch the singer is singing on or where the chorus comes in or anything like that. It’s totally based on the idea of making it possible for Blue Gene to be as fluent as he can be. And that’s actually a great pleasure. I mean, it’s more interesting for me than for me to write the chords and for him to struggle with those chords.

FRANK J. OTERI: So then if someone else were to perform the work other than Blue Gene it would be a completely different piece on some levels.

ROBERT ASHLEY: Yeah, we could take the template, we could take the basic template of the piece and we could make it into anything. It could be a different chorus. In fact, it could be a totally different size.

FRANK J. OTERI: So what is fixed? If you heard a performance let’s say of Superior Seven or Improvement: Don Leaves Linda, could you ever wind up thinking “Wait a second, this is not my music.” Where is the line?

ROBERT ASHLEY: Uh, well in the case of Superior Seven all the notes are written, it’s just a question of whether the people can actually play the notes and whether they follow the instructions, but when we get into the operas… I don’t know how to answer your question without saying in the most practical sense, when I finally finish matching the words to the tempo, the chord changes and that kind of thing, I make a rehearsal tape for all the singers and I send the rehearsal tape to the singers and then we get together. I take any idea that anybody’s got, unless it’s wrong, I take any idea that anybody’s got because it adds something to the piece that I had not thought about. The only way you get the character of the opera out of any one of the singers is by letting them take over that notion of character.

FRANK J. OTERI: Have the operas ever been done with different singers than the original singers of each production? And what have been the changes?

ROBERT ASHLEY: No. Perfect Lives had a certain ensemble, and then when we started doing Atalanta, that ensemble wasn’t working so certain people dropped out and new people came in. So there was a certain ensemble for Atalanta. And then when we started doing the group of four operas: Improvement, eL/Aficionado, Foreign Experiences, and Now Eleanor’s Idea, I needed other kinds of voices because of the nature of the text. So I just started picking people that I knew or thought could do it. And even that changed. We started with one group of people and by the time we got to the end of it, two or three people had dropped out and two or three people had come in. But the basic ensemble I’m working with now is the happiest situation of my life, working with Sam and Jackie and Joan and Tom Buckner and Tom Hamilton doing the processing. It’s sort of a dream come true. And I don’t expect it to change, unless, unless one of them gets tired of me and wants to go someplace else.

FRANK J. OTERI: But what if you envision a work involving more characters?

ROBERT ASHLEY: Then I’ll just have to find some more people. [laughter] That’s another problem…

Robert Ashley
Robert Ashley’s Ensemble,
photo by Yukihiro Yoshihara

FRANK J. OTERI: Atalanta has more roles.

ROBERT ASHLEY: Yeah when we went from Atalanta to the quartet, I had to have new voices because there were new characters. Possibly in the next opera. I’m working on one now called Celestial Excursions and I must admit, I don’t know how many voices are involved. I know that I’m going to use the four voices that I’ve been working with for the last ten years, but I might add another two or three voices. I don’t know yet.

FRANK J. OTERI: What starts first, the music or the text?

ROBERT ASHLEY: Oooh, that’s the hardest question that has ever been asked by anybody. The simple answer is that when you’re a songwriter, the music and the words come at the same time. But they don’t come exactly the same, I mean sometimes you have an idea for a sort of harmonic mood or a rhythmic thing or sometimes you have some words that don’t exactly fit with that so you adapt the words to that plan. I mean in other words you might, to take an example from Now Eleanor’s Idea, after having worked with the harmonies and the words and the rhythms and everything else for a year or something like that, I finally discovered that one of the operas had to have 15 syllables per line, but I already had the text and I had the music, but the text wasn’t in 15 syllables per line. So I had to edit the text, trying to make the text have 15 syllables per line. Sometimes you start with just a phrase, maybe just two lines and those two lines may not even make it into the final version, but those two lines in the rhythm and the way they’re said and the way they sound, those two lines start making the music happen in your imagination. So sometimes the words come first, sometimes the music comes first, but they never come independently, I mean for me.

FRANK J. OTERI: Why did those lines have to h
ave 15 syllables?

ROBERT ASHLEY: I don’t know. I’ve forgotten now what the reason was…

FRANK J. OTERI: So words and melodies come together… I’m a little confused. I always got the sense that the melody sort of evolved in the process of working with the singers, that the singers actually shaped the melodies.

ROBERT ASHLEY: That’s true. That’s exactly true.

FRANK J. OTERI: You don’t present singers with staff-notated melodies, you present them with tapes of you singing your vision of what those melody are?

ROBERT ASHLEY: Yeah. I send them a demo tape, a demo tape of me singing the song and then a few weeks later or a few months later they come here and they have their own idea about that song. Obviously it can go from being extremely crude, as in the first four songs of Dust. I mean I can’t be Jackie Humbert or Joan LaBarbara, I just sing those songs the way I sing, but in the last four songs, those actually have a melody because they’re supposed to be memories of pop songs. Joan LaBarbara has to adapt the melody to what she can do with her voice and Jackie and Tom and Sam have to adapt those melodies to what they can do with their voices. But it’s actually not any different from me deciding to cover a Chuck Berry song or a rap song. I mean, I couldn’t possibly make it sound like the original, what is that, karaoke or something like that, I couldn’t do that so it would, in other works I would take the material of the original song and I would make it into my own version.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well the last two Dust songs–“It’s Easy” and “The Angel of Loneliness”– have great melodies. They have great hooks…

ROBERT ASHLEY: Thank you.

FRANK J. OTERI: So they were your melodies?

ROBERT ASHLEY: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, but for instance in the melody I wrote for “It’s Easy,” the first note was too high for what was comfortable for Joan. So she had to adapt how she got to that first note from rehearsing in the studio and it wasn’t until she had done it for I don’t know, 15 or 20 times that finally that adaptation of how to get to that first note, which I had made a mistake on because I thought that was an easy note for her. It turned out to be a hard note for her. It wasn’t until she had done it 15 or 20 times that she came up with a way of getting to that first note that sounds like it’s right. You know. But you would never know that.

FRANK J. OTERI: So what happens when you’re doing a work like Balseros for the Florida Grand Opera? How did you work with those singers? It’s clearly not the intimate relationship that you get to have with your ensemble. What happens?

ROBERT ASHLEY: Well, I must say that Balseros was not a very happy experience for me. I’m telling tales out of school… When I was commissioned to do the piece, I was told by the Florida Grand Opera that their singers would not be available except in the chorus parts. And so I started writing music for the four, well I said you can’t have an opera with any less, I’ve gotta hire the soloists. And they said OK, go ahead and hire ’em. So I hired my ensemble and I wrote the melodies for my ensemble and made the orchestra work with my ensemble. And then, not long before the musical deadline, I was told that in fact the Florida Grand Opera singers had to have some solos so I spent a couple of months, talk about technicalities, making 18th century sort of canons for the Florida Grand Opera singers to sing the same melodies twice as fast. In other words, Jackie would have a song that lasted four minutes, two minutes of that would be given over to one of the Florida Grand Opera singers who was singing almost exactly the same melody she was singing, but twice as fast and at a different interval, so it was in harmony with her. And the other two minutes of that solo would be given over to a male and female pair of Spanish speaking persons. So they were speaking; they were acting. So Balseros started out as an opera for my ensemble with the orchestra on tape which would accommodate a couple of Cuban type drummers and would accommodate a couple of people speaking in Cuban-Spanish explaining what was going on. And then at the last minute, the last two or three months, I had a different assignment and so I had to think of some way to put the Florida Grand Opera singers in as soloists. And the only way I could figure out how to do it was as I said this canon-type of thing.

FRANK J. OTERI: And you didn’t really have any opportunity to work with them?

ROBERT ASHLEY: No.

FRANK J. OTERI: So they were never able to feel an ownership for the roles…

ROBERT ASHLEY: No, I just wrote the notes, I just wrote the notes and they learned the notes as best they could.

FRANK J. OTERI: I was listening recently to Automatic Writing, which is probably the most personal piece you’ve ever written. And it’s something I can’t imagine anyone else ever being able to do.

ROBERT ASHLEY: [laughs]

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s so personal. You’re dealing with a very sensitive topic. To the best of my knowledge, it’s the only piece of music ever written about Tourette Syndrome. It really fleshes out what that means and what it means as music.

ROBERT ASHLEY: Yeah, well, I was coming from California to New York to see Mimi and I got so interested in the people on the street. They’re gone now because Giuliani put ’em all in prison, but there were these strange people who were talking to themselves, and I got so interested in what appeared to be some connection between music and what they were doing that I tried to learn how to do that. It was practically impossible. And I did dozens of performances where I used different sorts of shields to keep me from being effected by self-consciousness on stage. And then finally the record that you’re referring to, as it says in the liner notes, was simply the last stage of having worked on the piece for two or three years, maybe more. I set up the studio at Mills so that I could go in there and I didn’t have to change my mood. All I had to do was push one button. I just had to push the on button and everything started working. I was living by myself then and I got myself into the mood of that involuntary speech. And when it finally took, I walked from where I was living to the studio, which was about a quarter of a mile at like 8 o’clock at night and I just pushed the on button and it actually worked. I mean I actually got something that was totally beyond my control. But then the layering of the piece started and the next thing I wanted was to put some synthesizer music in it so I asked Paul DeMarinis to design some sort of a triggering to give me something from the synthesizer that would accompany the talking and then we had another occasion to do it in Paris and I asked Mimi to read the French translations of these
sort of meaningless things without her listening to the tape at all. I would just cue her when to say the French phrase. And so I had three characters and then I finally realized that there was a fourth character needed and it took me another few months to find that fourth character on that kind of organ sound that goes all through it. Then I knew the piece was finished. Then I knew the piece…because I had enough screens between me and the audience so that I was not embarrassed to put it out on a record.

FRANK J. OTERI: You’re very lucky in that a lot of your works have been documented on recordings and that’s the way they’ll be perceived of by people, but then again it’s also a double edged sword in that since these works often have a visual component or have a multi-media component of some sort, experiencing them on a CD player or on the radio, although you did a piece for radio, is not necessarily getting a sense of what your work really is. So, ideally, how should someone come to your music? Should it be through live performance, through video recording, through audio recording, what is the best medium?

ROBERT ASHLEY: Well, I’ve dreamed for the last twenty-five years of making opera for television. I made this piece twenty five years ago called Music with Roots in the Aether, which I thought was very successful and it’s been shown 50 or 60 times for thousands of people and it’s been shown on local cable stations. It’s never made it to the networks. And then because of that I got the connection to do Perfect Lives from The Kitchen. We were able to do Perfect Lives as an opera for television. And then with the director Lawrence Brickman, I made a kind of demonstration tape of the kind of techniques that we would use for Atalanta to try to get some television producer interested. But essentially, I couldn’t get through. And then the quartet of operas are all exactly formatted for television. And, I don’t know, they may happen. Every once in awhile, someone says they want to do one of the operas for television. And we work on it and nothing comes together. So I don’t know, I don’t have any feelings about it really. I mean, when I make a CD of one of the pieces I want it to sound as much like a CD as possible. When we do a performance we change everything around so it looks as much like a performance as I can make it look like a performance. But if we ever had a chance to do one of the operas for television, it would be yet another version of the same thing.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now, is T.V. the ideal audience?

ROBERT ASHLEY: T.V. for me would be the ideal audience. I’ve thought that for 25 years. T.V. with really high quality sound would be the ideal audience for my music because of the intimacy of T.V. and because on television you can go I don’t know how many times faster than you can go on stage. On stage, if you want to move the chorus, go off stage, go onstage, you have to write three of four minutes of music just to get the chorus from off stage to on stage. In T.V. you don’t have to do that, it can happen in a 30th of a second, so the whole idea of where you are, who you are and what you’re singing about, happens very much faster and I’m interested in that speed. I love the idea of that speed as part of our culture.

FRANK J. OTERI: In the early days of television, they coined the term “soap opera” for continuous serialized daytime dramas. It’s funny because I was thinking when I saw the videotapes of Perfect Lives, which is in seven separate serialized episodes, that you’ve created something of a “soap opera” opera.

ROBERT ASHLEY: It is…

FRANK J. OTERI: But it’s not just the structure of it, the characters and the plot are also like something out of daytime T.V. Even the title Perfect Lives sounds sort of like Days of Our Lives.

ROBERT ASHLEY: It’s a soap opera. There’s no doubt about it. (laughs)

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s wonderful. Now, if only we could get people watching Perfect Lives instead of Days of Our Lives!

ROBERT ASHLEY: I don’t mind what else they watch. I just want them to watch Perfect Lives! Everything is O.K. except there isn’t enough music on television. The people who run television have not realized yet that audiences can be really interested in music if you treat it with the same attention to detail that you treat professional football or professional baseball or something special, like British accents doing Masterpiece Theatre. I’m doing a pitch now… Opera for television has an enormous potential, but nobody in television has woken up to that idea yet.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, hopefully the television people will visit the Web and read this and hear your music and do it!


Music Word Fire and I Would Do It Again (Coo Coo): “The Lessons”
from Perfect Lives (excerpt)
John Sanborn, video director; Carlota Schoolman, producer for The Kitchen; “Blue” Gene Tyranny, keyboards; Robert Ashley, Jill Kroesen and David Van Tieghem, voices; Peter Gordon, music producer; Jacqueline Humbert, costumes; Kit Fitzgerald, video effects collaborator.
<![if !supportLineBreakNewLine]>
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27 minutes, VHS, NTSC or PAL.
© 1981 by Robert Ashley, used with permission from Lovely Music Ltd.
http://www.lovely.com/titles/vhslessons.html

Ashley's Notation for 'No Legs' from 'Dust'
An Excerpt of Ashley’s Notation for “No Legs” from Dust

The Jazz Composers Collective on Creating and Performing

Jazz Composers Collective
Photo by Lourdes Delgado
February 8, 2001 at The Jazz Standard, NYC

Members:
Ben Allison
Frank Kimbrough
Ted Nash
Michael Blake
Ron Horton
with Frank J. Oteri

Conversation transcribed by Karyn Joaquino

Joan Jeanrenaud: A Fourth Approach to Performing Music

Joan Jeanrenaud
Joan Jeanrenaud
Photo by Marion Ettinger, courtesy New Albion Records

Joan Jeanrenaud talks with NewMusicBox editor Frank J. Oteri at her home in San Francisco, CA, about her unusual post-Kronos career

Friday, November 9, 2000

Transcribed by Lisa Kang

The Role of the Performer

A Fourth Approach to Performing Music: Excerpt #01

FRANK J. OTERI: I was snooping around while you were making tea, and I must say I am very, very envious of your collection of Source magazines.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Somebody loaned those to me. They are not mine. But they’ve left them here for a very long time.

FRANK J. OTERI: I noticed Source, and I noticed the Schubert Quintet on the chair, and then I noticed Haydn, then all these contemporary discs, like the Annie Gosfield CD on Tzadik that I love.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: She’s great.

FRANK J. OTERI: As a performer who for years has been in the public eye as a chamber musician in one of the most important American string quartets, and now establishing a significant career as a soloist, what do you feel the role of the performer is towards contemporary music, what should the role of the performer be?

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Well I can only speak for what my role I think should be as a performer in relation to contemporary music, and of course for me it’s very tied up with my history. Spending 20 years in the Kronos Quartet had a huge influence, and I would not be doing what I do now for sure had it not been for that experience. On the other hand, before I joined the Kronos I was also involved in contemporary music.

FRANK J. OTERI: You were part of the Contemporary Music Ensemble at Indiana University…

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Well, I was one of the founding members of it. I was studying composition with Fred Fox and he started the ensemble specifically to play Peter Maxwell Davies‘s Eight Songs for a Mad King.

FRANK J. OTERI: Oh that’s a great piece.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: It is a great piece. I think that was one of the first pieces we played on that concert with some other compositions, which were very interesting because at that time I was fairly new to notation that was not conventional notation. I was certainly exposed to a lot of things early on. Even growing up in Memphis I did pieces by composer who were at Memphis State University which is where I went to take my cello lessons. So early on people realized that I was very open to new experiences and trying things, so of course you get all these composers coming up to you saying, “Oh, play my piece.” It’s hard for them to find performers sometimes.

FRANK J. OTERI: I find it interesting that you say you studied composition. That already puts you in a different place than a lot of performers.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Well I studied composition, I wasn’t very good at it I don’t think, and it’s interesting now because I’m starting compose only for myself really at this point, but I do play in this group with Larry Ochs and Miya Masaoka and so hopefully at some point I’ll be brave enough to compose something for the three of us.

FRANK J. OTERI: And is there a lot of improvisation in this group?

JOAN JEANRENAUD: There is. I also studied improvisation when I moved to Indiana University – David Baker was there…

FRANK J. OTERI: He’s amazing.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: He is and that was a terrific experience. And I was very involved with the whole classical approach of learning how to play the cello at that time. So even though I took improvisation from David, at the same time I realized what a huge world that was and I felt like I didn’t have time to completely devote myself to learn.

FRANK J. OTERI: And the cello is only now starting to really be seen as an improvisatory instrument. I know that in the 50s Ron Carter played jazz on the cello and that was one of the first times it had been done. Well, before that Oscar Pettiford did a jazz cello thing, but he played pizzicato so he was really treating the cello like a high bass. It wasn’t really a cello. But Ron Carter sounds like a saxophone and it really showed that the instrument had a lot more versatility than people might have thought before that.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: I do think the cello does have a lot of versatility and part of it is because the range is really pretty extreme. Because you can play low, you can play like a bass, at the same time you can play really beautiful melodies up high.

FRANK J. OTERI: The high G is wonderful, and it’s got such a unique tone because the string is so taut up there, so it’s a really, really nice sound.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Yeah, I agree. (both laugh)

The Electric Cello

A Fourth Approach to Performing Music: Excerpt #02

JOAN JEANRENAUD: And now that I’m starting to get into electronics, and that whole world, you realize there are even more possibilities there. I’m using with my Zeta Electric cello, I’m using a Lexicon guitar processor which is sitting back there, I haven’t unpacked it from a gig yet.

FRANK J. OTERI: I’m looking at it…

JOAN JEANRENAUD: It looks good, but you see I put it on a stand but they don’t really come this way. This is the first Zeta cello ever made too.

FRANK J. OTERI: Wow!

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Kronos had a set of Zeta instruments made, but we never really used them very much, just in a couple of pieces. There are ensemble problems, you know trying to play exactly together like Kronos does, but now I’m using it and I’m realizing there are a lot of possibilities, and I find that I can do things on my electric cello that I can’t do on my acoustic cello, and visa versa. I mean this cello will never get the sound that my acoustic cello does which is really beautiful.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now you also use a pick-up on the acoustic cello too.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: I do, that’s true.

FRANK J. OTERI: Which is another whole weird mixed world of sound.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: That’s true. So yeah, there are all these combination of things. I’m having this young guy in France, Frederick Coe, who’s making me an electro-acoustic cello. And who knows when he’ll be finished with it, but I think that’s real exciting. He had a prototype that he had made and I was very impressed with it, I liked it a lot, and I felt it was very much in between my solid body and my acoustic. It was also just another possibility and so hopefully we’ll finish that within the next six months.

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you ever play a five-string instrument?

JOAN JEANRENAUD: I haven’t, but I think that would be a really interesting thing to try.

Standard Cello Repertoire and String Quartet Repertoire

A Fourth Approach to Performing Music: Excerpt #03

FRANK J. OTERI: So getting back to beginnings, getting back to Memphis, you decided to a musician, to play the cello, and clearly there’s a lot of really, really great repertoire for the cello in the western classical tradition: Beethoven sonatas, Brahms sonatas, the Dvorak concerto… I mean there’s really a lot of fabulous, fabulous music. But you never really went in that direction which I’m really grateful for! (both laugh)

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Well actually, that was my focus from when I started playing the cello through when I joined Kronos. I did other things always, I was interested in other things, but I was very classically trained. I had really great teachers. That’s one of the reasons I started the cello, and I continued playing the cello, because I had a great teacher in Memphis. Then he sent me to Indiana University to study with his teacher, then I went to studies with Pierre Fournier for a year in Switzerland.

FRANK J. OTERI: One of the great cellists of the 20th century…

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Yeah, so all that time I learned all that repertoire. Now it’s actually really exciting because I have a fourteen-year-old student who is such a wiz, and she’s studying all that repertoire.

FRANK J. OTERI: There’s such pull from managers and concert presenters who say: “If you want to be the next Jacqueline Du Pre, you’ve got to play the Dvorak concerto. You can’t play new music and sell out a hall.” And clearly Kronos proved them wrong. You said, “Well, we’re not doing anything before 1900.” And you sold-out halls. You were getting a new audience, and all the managers and concert presenters were scratching their heads saying, “Wait a second, this isn’t supposed to happen.”

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Well, that took a long time. You know when I first joined the Kronos, not many people had heard of the group, and it had been in existence for five years, but there had been a lot of membership changes, and Kronos had always, even before I joined, concentrated on contemporary music, but they didn’t do it exclusively.

FRANK J. OTERI: Oh really?

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Yeah, and after I had been in the group two years, I realized that on a program we were playing one classical piece, and the rest would be contemporary works, which is about the opposite of what groups usually do. But then I felt like by that time, we had been pretty well established in California. We were getting gigs in California, so we were making a living. And we all talked about it, and we thought, “Well, we should do what we really like to do, and what we’re really good at is all the contemporary music.” Why should we play one Brahms quartet if we’re really concentrating on this other piece, and we’re not going to do that piece as well as someone who’s done that for 20 years. It’s not where Kronos’s interest was focused. So two years after being at Kronos that’s the decision we made that we were just going to do contemporary music. And you’re right, pieces from 1900 on. And by this time it was also clear that we weren’t we weren’t going to have any standard management to represent us, because you’re right, they have this formula – they think: this is what the audience wants to hear, so this is what we want our artists to play. It became a very privileged position, actually, that we decided, well O.K., we’re going to play what we really what to play, and we’re going to do everything ourselves in order to enable that to happen. But actually, that was the best thing to happen because then, we really were free to do what we wanted to do, we didn’t have pressure from anybody else, we could do whatever it was we wanted. And we found, especially after those first two years, that people would hire us, and we would do one standard work, and then they realized, “Oh, well we really liked all those other pieces, so yeah, come back and do whatever you want.” So gradually that happened even more. Then there a period of time when we played all the 20th century classical works, all the Bartók‘s, the Shostokovich, Webern, Berg, all that, and I think that was really good for us as a group, and also that sort of helped people who if they weren’t so familiar with us they might be familiar the name like Bartók. So gradually, and this took a long period of time, and now of course Kronos only plays commissioned works, primarily, so this was a wonderful evolvement over that 20 year period. But you can’t say that when I first joined the group – you know we were getting 50 people at a concert.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, it was an investment.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Yeah.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well it’s so interesting because you look at before Kronos, and post-Kronos in the contemporary music scene. There were 2 things going on. Composers weren’t really writing much for string quartet anymore, and now all of a sudden the string quartet is one of the liveliest forms for so many composers. And on the flip side it, now there are all these quartets all over the country that play mostly contemporary works. Whether it’s the Lark Quartet or the Cuarteto Latinoamericano… There are many fantastic groups that are really dedicated to contemporary repertoire. It’s made them better groups and it’s made the music that’s being written for quartet better music. A string quartet won a Pulitzer Prize a couple years ago and that was largely because of the dedication of players who commissioned that piece after he had already written a quartet for them. And you say we can never compete with a quartet that’s played Brahms for 30 years, this is the problem that contemporary music faces in total, you get three rehearsals, then the piece gets played, half the time the performance doesn’t reflect the piece.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Exactly.

FRANK J. OTERI: By playing only contemporary music and taking it on the road when you’re touring it, and playing it over, and over, and over again before it gets recorded, and before it you play it in substantial venues, you’re guaranteeing that those pieces are nurtured and loved. And I think audiences can hear that. I think that a lot of the time when people say that audiences don’t like contemporary music, I think it’s th
at audiences don’t like bad performances.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: I think that you are absolutely right. And I think that’s exactly what was the case when I first joined Kronos. People simply didn’t give new works enough attention just like they would a piece, even a piece that they had known by ear, say a Mozart quartet or something else, they would give that much more attention than a piece that they’ve never heard, and I totally agree with you that a lot of the problem with audiences not responding to contemporary music is because of bad performances.

FRANK J. OTERI: I think what’s interesting now is you have a situation where the standard classical repertoire isn’t necessarily the center of repertoire for a whole generation of listeners. There is no center. And Kronos managed to attract a whole other audience for whom the string quartet didn’t really mean a whole lot before that. These aren’t people who are going to care about the intonation of the second violin in the Grosse Fugue. They’re more inclined to care about something more chronologically connected to them, and more geographically connected to them.

A Collaboration-Oriented “Solo” Career

A Fourth Approach to Performing Music: Excerpt #04

FRANK J. OTERI: Since leaving Kronos, you’ve really focused on cutting edge repertoire, on really, really exciting collaborations with people, and things that are relevant to people beyond the classical music ghetto.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Right. Well you know I’m choosing to work with musicians and composers that are relevant to me, actually, and of course at the beginning of when I first stepped away from Kronos, I tried a lot of different things, but it became very clear to me very soon that really I was very interested in the direction of contemporary music, and that I was very interested in learning. So I wanted to have experiences that I had not had before, or that I had been exposed to but hadn’t really delved into. So, for instance improvisation, or electronics… Both of those really interest me because I really can learn something. I felt to a certain degree that I knew what I was doing with Kronos and I could do it really well, but was it enough of a challenge to commit that time? I don’t think it was. It could be for somebody else, but for me I felt like I needed some kind of change to light a fire under me or something. I wanted to be a little bit uncomfortable, a little bit challenged. So now I’m really much more into not only improvisation and electronics, but sort of a mixed media idea of a concert, also I’ve been researching Charlotte Moorman and Fluxus which is why I have all these Source magazines because I became very interested in the Fluxus movement. So the whole idea of, if you want to call it, performance art or installation or any of that sort of genre interests me too.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s interesting because in a way it’s a unique way to approach a “solo career,” because it’s not really solo oriented.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: No it’s not.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s collaboration oriented. And in a way it comes out of a chamber music sensibility. It seems that if you’re a musician going to a conservatory, there are three paths. You can join an orchestra, be part of a chamber group, or become a soloist. And those are three very different attitudes towards music making, different ego approaches, different approaches to what you’d feel you want from music. And you’ve created a fourth path here.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Oh, that’s really nice. I realize that I’m not really doing so much of a solo thing because I have all these collaborators, but I thought that made a lot of sense. If I had to pick one of those paths I’d pick being a chamber musician. I’ve always felt that I was somebody who enjoyed that experience of sitting down and playing music with somebody else. And even in working with someone like Terry Riley who’s writing a piece for me – I almost said ‘string quartet’ – who’s writing a piece for me, yeah, it’s really exciting, I’m going up there next week to work to work with him again on it… It’s really a great collaborative process because I feel like I can experience it in a different way even in the past because it’s more of a one-on-one thing, even though I had this group that had those experiences, but now I really feel like it’s my relationship with Terry that’s involved with this piece. And that’s really exciting.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s really a collaboration!

JOAN JEANRENAUD: It really is. It’s great. And when we work together at his house it’s really wonderful because he’ll write something and I’ll go and practice it, I come back and play it for him, and he hears it and goes back and writes some more. It’s really great. I’m getting so that my relationships with people are really, really satisfying because it is a much more individual kind of a relationship than it had been in the past.

FRANK J. OTERI: Who are some of the other composers you’ve been working with recently?

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Well Hamza el Din… All these guys–I feel like I should say gals too, guys and gals–they are all really teaching me a lot! With Hamza, of course, I knew him through Kronos playing his piece “Escalay,” and then I became interested in him when I started getting interested in all this looping stuff that I’m doing. I thought, I bet you I could play that piece by myself.

FRANK J. OTERI: You did a transcription of it?

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Right. And then the great thing was that instead of having this piece of music that I read and that’s the end of it, I had to get into that piece – I listened to it a lot, I worked with Hamza a lot, I heard Hamza play it a lot, I became more familiar with the way he works, the way he thinks, the whole structure of his music – the rhythmic aspect of it – so I felt like I really got much more into the piece than I had before. And it’s kind of nice that I had known the piece on one level, but then it was great to discover all these other levels. And I think my whole interest in improvisation and certainly Hamza has really opened that all up to me. So now we’re talking about doing more stuff together.

Non-Western Music and Thinking Beyond Notation

A Fourth Approach to Performing Music: Excerpt #05

FRANK J. OTERI: I knew “Escalay” before the Kronos recording on Pieces of Africa from a solo performance by Hamza on an old Nonesuch Explorer recording. What I found so interesting about Pieces of Africa was that you got the inflections of the microtonal intervals in the Arabic pieces, and you captured the flavor of the Southern African choral structures in the harmonies in those pieces, and I thought this is amazing because this isn’t something you can get from notation alone. It really requires working with these musicians. And that’s exactly what’s happening in your work with Terry Riley, and no one can do that with Beethoven or Brahms. You have the whole period instrument movement saying, it isn’t really the way we thought it was, it really is this way, and the standard rep people fighting them – it’s a stalemate. We never can know.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Right, and the thing is, and this was a big Kronos position which I totally agree with: quartets playing in Brahms’ day worked with Brahms. So really what Kronos is doing is pretty traditional when you look at it that way, it’s more traditional than people playing works of composers who are no longer alive. People worked with composers back then. And I think with Kronos, when we did the Pieces of Africa album, we felt it was exactly the same way as working with so-called Western composers coming out of that tradition. Even those people like Carter or John Cage, both of whom we worked with, you can’t write down everything. You have to work with the composer, I find, to really figure out what they intend with the music. So I think Kronos carried that over to music that was based beyond the Western tradition. So they just approached it as, well, they have it written down but what does that really mean.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now this idea of having African string quartets by people like Dumisani Maraire or Obo Addy, and all these very, very different people who normally don’t work with a bowed string sound. How were they initially approached?

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Well, you know at first that whole process started when Kevin Volans‘s wrote his quartet White Man Sleeps.

FRANK J. OTERI: That’s an amazing piece.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: That is an amazing piece. Now originally it was for harpsichords and David Harrington of Kronos had him transcribe that for string quartet. And that was kind of our entry to that kind of sensibility – what I found from that experience was that it was not like a traditional string quartet where you think of the melody on top and the bass on the bottom. It was all four parts that were equally important. You couldn’t take one of them away and have it make any sense, they all had to be there. So I think from that point, then Kronos’s interest in that music because very evident and then we talked to someone like Terry Riley who said, oh you should talk to Hamza. So then Kronos was going over to Japan where Hamza was living at the time, and we got together with Hamza. And I think all these composers were excited to have other instruments and other interpretations of their music because I do feel that people like Hamza El Din even if they’re taking a tradition, they’re not really doing it in a strict traditional way.

FRANK J. OTERI: No, in fact, many of the people you worked with… Foday Musa Suso had already collaborated with Herbie Hancock and did that amazing work in the late 70s with Adam Rudolph in the Mandingo Griot Society. I have an old Verna Gillis field recording of Foday before he was anybody recorded 30 years ago, and he was already doing things outside of Gambian sensibility, there’s a whole song about the Apollo mission. Because the Apollo mission – people just landed on the moon – and it’s wonderful listening back to that to hear to where he came from, that he was always stretching the boundaries.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Yeah, always.

FRANK J. OTERI: Same with Dumisani who died recently…

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Yeah, that’s very sad, he wasn’t that old.

Working with Composers and Improvisation

A Fourth Approach to Performing Music: Excerpt #06

FRANK J. OTERI: Some of the other composers who you’ve been working with recently – there’s that incredible Lou Harrison CD on New Albion…

JOAN JEANRENAUD: It was wonderful for me to have the opportunity to work with him again after working on his String Quartet Set back in the 1980s. He is such a vibrant presence and consummate musician that it was a pleasure to play his music again and receive his feedback.

FRANK J. OTERI: I know you also did a Paul Dresher piece recently. He’s a composer I find really, really interesting.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Well actually, I’m just working with Paul just now. There’s going to be a new piece by Paul and Anthony Davis, both for cello and the Paul Dresher Ensemble. So that’s really exciting because it’s a fairly small electro-acoustic ensemble; there are six people in the group. And I’m really excited about the piece. I was just over there a couple of days ago and actually the music on the stand here is from Paul, and so he’s worked on one movement.

FRANK J. OTERI: Anthony Davis is another really interesting figure because he straddles the boundaries – on one hand he writes operas and chamber pieces, on the other he’s a great jazz pianist, he’s done a number of recordings with his ensemble Episteme and it’s often hard to tell at any given moment if it’s a worked-out notated composition or if it’s a very sophisticated work of improvisation and I think he loves blurring those lines. That’s what his music is all about. Now the piece he’s working on of yours, is there going to be a lot of improvisation?

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Well, I’m really not sure at this point, but that’s one of the reasons why I was excited about working with him, and I’ve never worked with him before. Again, we’ve met, and we’ve talked, and we’ve agreed to play but this will be the first time we’ve worked together. But I’m very excited about that possibility of that blur between written out music and improvisation because that is something I’m more interested in now.

FRANK J. OTERI: And certainly over the years with Kronos you did recordings of music by Thelonious Monk, and Bill Evans. There’s definitely an interest in jazz.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Definitely, I’ve always been a huge jazz fan, and after taking lessons from David Baker I also took some lessons from Joe Henderson when I first moved here, then this last year I took lessons from Hal Stein who’s a saxophone player over in Oakland. He had me do a lot of transcriptions of Oscar Pettiford. He really helped me start to think about listening and then playing instead of reading all the time which is what I do, or had done so much of in the past. You know I related to music in a much different way, so him getting me to transcribe stuff is now something that I do more and more, and it’s really good training for me.

FRANK J. OTERI: I studied ethnomusicology in graduate school and would do transcriptions and it helped me as a composer, and also helped me as a listener, and it shows you the limits of what you can get on the page in terms of the notation. It was really interesting talking to Pauline Oliveros because that has certainly been her issue for 50 years. How do you get performers to be themselves, to create their own music, and to listen to each other?

JOAN JEANRENAUD: You listen to each other in a different way when you don’t have a piece of paper there.

FRANK J. OTERI: Reading a score is a very different activity than listening and playing back something to replicate it. It’s not necessarily about recreating something perfectly as it was on paper, but responding to it emotionally, and ideally the best performances of Western classical music are a combination of an emotional response to something written down having an accurate version of what that piece is.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Ideally you’re right. But it doesn’t always come together that way.

The Rock Music Perspective

A Fourth Approach to Performing Music: Excerpt #07

FRANK J. OTERI: Within the classical music community, Kronos was perceived as the classical music world’s rock band to some extent because of the way you all dressed, the shades… I think it shows a real lack of understanding of what rock music is in the classical music establishment, but you certainly did cross over to some of the alternative rock music audience. I’ve often said that the rock audience music should be the audience for contemporary music. And Sonic Youth proved that last year when they did that album with pieces by Pauline Oliveros and Christian Wolff, and Cage number pieces, and David Byrne wrote a string quartet for the Balanescus. There’s a lot of possibility for intersection with that world. Do you work with any rock players?

JOAN JEANRENAUD: I can’t say that I do right now, but I’m certainly very open to that. I think that whole thing about Kronos’s image and all that, I mean we were all born in the 50s or essentially grew up starting in the 50s, and the 60s was a very important time in the United States and it had a huge impact on youth, and so we were all influence by that. I’m sure I listened to much more rock and roll music than I did classical music. I’m the only musician in my family, so it wasn’t like I came from a family that was in this classical music tradition where everybody in the family played a musical instrument. It wasn’t that way at all, and that’s the same with everybody in Kronos. I think that we were just naturally influence by that whole world because that rock and roll music was much more prevalent in society than classical music.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well it’s interesting because in the late 60s there were all these rock bands doing things that involved string quartet. You know the Beatles had several string quartet songs, and Traffic had a string quartet song…

JOAN JEANRENAUD: And it was good writing for a string quartet.

FRANK J. OTERI: Yeah!

JOAN JEANRENAUD: I sort of feel that Kronos in our photographs, and because, I mentioned, that we could do whatever we wanted to do, so we could have photographs that we felt more comfortable with. We felt more comfortable in addressing the way we dress. Why should the guys wear tuxedos that were uncomfortable and I wear some long gown that I never wear? Why don’t we wear what makes sense to us, something that we would normally wear? So all of that, I think you’re right, it was misperceived. People thought, “Oh, well they did it as a conscious thing for their image,” but really it wasn’t that conscious at all. It was a way of interpreting the way we were at the time. I think also there are a lot of composers, like Steve Mackey, he started out playing guitar in a rock band. I’m even a huge advocate of kids starting to play a solid body electric cello when they learn to play the instrument because then they can play with their buddies who play in a band. And they can really have a good time. I mean why should they be segregated into this other world, I think it’s very natural, it makes a lot of sense for kids to start on an electric cello because it’s cheaper, it’s not this huge precious investment, they can play with their friend and get exposed to playing music and I think that’s the most important thing.

FRANK J. OTERI: One of the things that people in the classical world don’t always realize is that rock bands are creating music together. They largely write their own materials, and they are collaborating together to create their own material. So there’s a real sense of listening, and give and take. Skeptics may say, “Well, it isn’t very sophisticated, it’s only a few chords,” but you listen to some of these bands out there and they are pretty sophisticated. The new Radiohead album is really out there.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Yeah, a lot of those guys are really incredible musicians. And even some of the old guys are really good – they’ve been doing it for a long time. I always felt that Queen was a really great group. They knew what they were doing; they were really great musicians. But a lot of people out there are incredible. Do you know the Flaming Lips?

FRANK J. OTERI: No I don’t.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: I really like them right now. The thing that I was first turned on to by them, they have this 4-CD set, Zaireeka and you play the CDs simultaneously.

FRANK J. OTERI: Oh cool! So you need 4 different players.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Part of the whole concept I thought was really cool is that you have to get 4 people together. It becomes a social event. Then you can place them so that you can sit in the middle. It’s really made me question the whole setup of a concert format of the stage, and the audience. They’ve done a bunch of stuff where they would have people come to a parking lot, and give everyone a cassette and put it in their car radio and turn it on …

FRANK J. OTERI: Oh wow! Interesting!

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Yeah, really interesting stuff. And I heard a live not too long ago and they had this great video of Leonard Bernstein actually, and they cut all these takes together, you know, of him giving these down beats, so it was a whole bunch of segments together, and it was brilliantly edited, I thought, and went exactly with the music. It was really fantastic.

FRANK J. OTERI: This sort of sounds like it’s along the same lines as work of a New York City-based composer Phil Kline who works with radio boom-boxes. Every year at Christmas time people show up at Washington Square Park and walk to Tompkins Square Park. Anybody who shows up gets a boom box and a tape, and then you walk to create an ambient Christmas piece.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: What’s his first name?

FRANK J. OTERI: Phil. He’s got a disc on CRI on the Emergency Music Series that’s really neat.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: I’m really fascinated with that whole thing. It’s the same thing with the Fluxus movement. Not a lot of those guys were doing that kind of stuff at that time.

Performance as a Physical Process

A Fourth Approach to Performing Music: Excerpt #08

FRANK J. OTERI: You said that you took a movement class this morning. One of the things that we tend to be so hush-hush about in music is its physical nature. We say music is artistic, and we often don’t look at it as a physical process and in many it’s analogous to Olympic level athletics. You can’t win a piano competition from just interpretive skill; you also need the physical stamina to go through that process. Certainly you were involved with playing probably the most physically grueling pieces of music ever written, the Feldman Second String Quartet. What was that like?

JOAN JEANRENAUD: You know it was a great experience because of Morton. Kronos knew Morton pretty well because we had played his First String Quartet, which was only 90 minutes long! We worked with him on it. So then when his Second String Quartet came along, he called us up and said, and apparently there was a group that was going to play it and they broke up over trying to learn this piece. So Morton said, “Oh there’s this piece that would be interesting if you’d guys would play it, it’s a little longer than the last one.” So Morton sends us the score, and it’s 124 pages. So we started looking at it, and was Morton’s music, and seemed really beautiful. Then one day we said, “You know, this seems a lot longer than a couple hours. Why don’t we play 20 pages and time it and see how long it is. It was an hour long. So then we realized this piece was going to be 4-5 hours long, and we called Morton and told him that. And I think Morton probably knew all along, but the initial performance of that piece was in Canada, and was being broadcast on CBC, and the concert started at 8, and the national anthem was going to go on at midnight no matter what, so we said to Morton, unless you want your piece cut off by the national anthem, we should make sure it’s going to be 4 hours. So Morton made a bunch of cuts, which were basically repeats that he took out. So for the first performance it was just under 4 hours. But Hank and I had timers on our stands so we knew how we were doing so we could speed it up sometimes. So it worked out really well, and we played it that way and called it our 4-hour version. There was a performance that was more than 4 hours, probably 5 or 4 1/2 or something like that. But then, we when we first did that piece, we were pretty young, we were in our 20s. It came up again a few years ago…

FRANK J. OTERI: Yeah, for the Lincoln Center Festival, I was going to go to that…

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Well they came up and they asked us to do it and there was a big discussion in the group because Hank has the hardest time, and it makes sense. He’s got the heaviest instrument to hold up.

FRANK J. OTERI: You never remove the bow.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: You never even have a chance to put the instrument down. That’s the problem. And it’s really, really soft, so you can’t relax into your instrument, you have to hold the bow up. For me it’s probably the easiest just because I think it is an easier position. So there was a big discussion about whether we should do it or not, but then we said O.K. We’ll try it. And then we started rehearsing it, and I think it became really clear to everyone that we could have substantial damage as far as things like tendonitis. Then of course if you get tendonitis it takes a whole year to recover, and you can’t play at all. So then it didn’t seem like the right thing to do at that time. But I think we probably could have done it when we were younger, but there were other circumstances.

FRANK J. OTERI: I know the Flux Quartet finally did a New York performance, which I unfortunately wasn’t able to attend, so I’ve never heard this thing.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: I never found out how long their performance was.

FRANK J. OTERI: Apparently it was a zany free-for-all with people walking in and out, and it was at Cooper Union where every sound you make, even a pin drop, you can hear, which really destroys the sanctity of quiet music like his.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Even though that always happened when we played that piece, the people come and go which I always kind of like because you know, there could be somebody in the front row and after a couple of hours they might get up and leave, and then somebody else would come down and sit in the front row. People would go, and they’d come back.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s interesting because his music is really made more for recordings than concerts.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: I think it’s the best way to hear it.

FRANK J. OTERI: It really is because it’s so quiet. And I’d even go as far as to say, and I’m a vinyl junkie, it’s music for CDs. It really really is.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Because you can make it sound beautiful.

FRANK J. OTERI: The reason why I bought a CD player was to hear Piano and String Quartet.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Yeah, it’s a great piece.

FRANK J. OTERI: I had a collection of about 25 CDs at this point in my office but I didn’t have a CD player at home. I was a vinyl nut. Finally, I couldn’t listen this piece in the office, I really needed to be home to experience this, so I went out and bought a CD player for this piece.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: That was the piece to do it for!

FRANK J. OTERI: I think so. And it still is one of my favorite pieces of his. I know that there are plans to record the Second String Quartet, I think a quartet based in Germany is doing it.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: I always thought that would be a great idea.

FRANK J. OTERI: But you guys never recorded it.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: No, and I was really sorry that we didn’t. I always wanted to record that piece. But you know Kronos has a lot of material, and there’s no way you can record it all. I mean finally there was so much material coming in that there was no way we could perform it all. So you have to make some sort of choice, and it doesn’t really mean that, it’s not making a judgment on a piece whether we play or not, or whether we record it or not, it’s a matter of setting priorities sometimes. That’s one of the things we talked about but never got done, and I’m sorry it didn’t happen.

FRANK J. OTERI: This brings us back to what we were saying earlier, this whole notion of collaborating with the composer, in a weird kind of way, and not to knock down Feldman, this is the kind of piece that really wasn’t created with any sense of what the performers need to do.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Oh no.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s the kind
of thing where you wonder what would have happened if the performers were working closely with the composer. Maybe it would be a different situation.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Um, I don’t know.

FRANK J. OTERI: Yeah, because he might have done what he wanted to do no matter what. I’m thinking of the Reich Octet which is now called Eight Lines because he realized that it was physically impossible for just eight people to maintain that. There are now other people waiting in the wings to take over…

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Exactly.

FRANK J. OTERI: And maybe that’s the way to do the Feldman String Quartet, with eight people, and change off so you don’t have that carpal tunnel potential.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Yeah. That may be. We were even trying to figure out, you know, if we could have bungee cords hanging that would be attached to your arms so you wouldn’t be holding up as much. We thought of things like that. But then, that makes it a really big project so it never got to that point. But trading off performers, there’s something of Reich’s, oh 18 Musicians

FRANK J. OTERI: Oh that’s amazing to watch.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: It is. And I thought it’s so wonderful visually and of course musically it makes a lot of sense. But of course I’m kind of a purist when I think of a quartet, and I thought well, you’d be able to hear the difference in sound.

FRANK J. OTERI: Although with Reich, the two pieces he’s written for quartet thus far are really triple quartets.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Yeah, then that’s different. It’s like the bigger you get, in some ways it actually can get better if you have different players because those little difference make it sound better.

FRANK J. OTERI: I recently heard a performance of Vermont Counterpoint live with 11 flutists which was really cool. It was hard for them to stay together at times, it was not conducted, but it was really great anyway. I have a whole new appreciation for that piece. I’ve always loved it, but seeing the physical process and hearing what could happen was magical.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: Exactly, even though you hear it and it’s an interesting experience on CD, really there’s so much stuff that it’s really great when the whole experience is there. But I guess that’s kind of what I’m interested in now, even the whole multi-media thing is really just so that it creates this total experience instead of just a sonic one, it’s visual, it’s everything, hopefully.

The Internet

A Fourth Approach to Performing Music: Excerpt #09

FRANK J. OTERI: What’s your take on the Internet as a means of making music with people? What do you think of all the things that are happening with music on the Internet as a new means of reaching out to audiences, and to finding new audiences, and spreading the word and the sounds of contemporary music?

JOAN JEANRENAUD: I think it’s great. I think music should be adaptable and changing with what’s going on. I think music will always exist, I think that’s a very John Cage concept too that music is always present. The sound of music is always happening. So I think it’s only natural that it would be adaptive to whatever forms are out there.

FRANK J. OTERI: And do you have music that’s out there on the Web at all, recordings of music?

JOAN JEANRENAUD: You know, I don’t really know.

FRANK J. OTERI: So you don’t spend much time on the Web.

JOAN JEANRENAUD: You know I can’t say that I really have at this point, and that’s something that I’d really like to get into. I use my computer a lot, but it’s mostly just the e-mail communications. I do most of my business that way like everybody else. But I can’t say that I spend much time on the Web. I would like to more, but I seem to be doing other things all the time.

FRANK J. OTERI: You’re doing some great things; please keep doing what you’re doing!!!

JOAN JEANRENAUD: But maybe I should spend a little time everyday…

Ice Cello
FRANK J. OTERI: Aside from music, you live in this great city of San Francisco, what else do you do?
JOAN JEANRENAUD: Lately, it’s nice because I’m hear more – when I was with Kronos we were on the road 6 months of the year. Now I can say I’m on the road about 3 months of the year, and it’s much
different. For scheduling it’s much nicer, I tend to stay in one place for longer period of time, I tend to go to really great places like New York, I was in Hawaii for a good project that I did. So I’m here more which gives me more opportunity to really check out the scene more. I play with a lot of people now
who are living here, like Larry Ochs, Pamela Z, then of course Terry lives really close, and Hamza lives close, so there’s a great group of artists and musicians who live here, and I think through them I go to a lot of different things now, I have time to attend events and see what’s going on. Tonight I’m going to the
circus at the Yerba Buena Center, I’m artist-in-residence there. This year has been really great and they’re doing a lot of interesting things there. They have a lot of kinds of things going on there in the arts and theater.
FRANK J. OTERI: I know that you worked with Molissa Fenley, Stephen Vitiello.
JOAN JEANRENAUD: Yeah, Stephen – you know hopefully we’re going to work on this piece that Charlotte Moorman performed and it was by the conceptual artist Jim McWilliams who now lives in San Diego which is great. He’s still alive. He’s in great shape, and I’ve been down to meet with him. So we’re basically going to recreate this piece called Ice Cello and it’s a cello made out of ice, and I play it but the only sound is ice melting on to trays beneath the cello that are miked. That’s the perfect piece for Stephen.
FRANK J. OTERI: One of the biggest mind-blowing experiences for me when I was a high-school student was attending a Music for Homemade Instruments concert on the Bowery, and one of the pieces
on the program was scored for dried ice and three frying pans.
JOAN JEANRENAUD: Oh cool.
FRANK J. OTERI: I heard a major triad melt into a minor triad, and it was the most amazing thing! It was over a Bunsen burner.
JOAN JEANRENAUD: That sounds really great.
FRANK J. OTERI: It was really cool. I’ll have to find out one of these days whose piece that is! But once again this is yet another example, Ice Cello is another example, you can hear it on a CD or on tape, but you really would be missing part of what it’s about. The extra musical things that are going on are
really as much a part of it. It’s really a piece of performance art.
JOAN JEANRENAUD: Definitely. To me I really like that right now. I like that idea that you have to be there to experience it.
FRANK J. OTERI: I think Quicktime video on the Web could be helpful here…
JOAN JEANRENAUD: Yeah, and there has been talk of trying to video it, even having simultaneous video production, which has been Jim’s idea and it’s great. Here’s the guy who has conceived this piece and now he’s thinking of it again in a different time and in a different context, and what he can do now, he can do all these things.
FRANK J. OTERI: But of course then you get into the whole notion that you can’t really re-create the acoustics. Composers like La Monte Young are so concerned with the acoustics because they are as much a part of the piece as the notes…
JOAN JEANRENAUD: Yeah, and I really feel like being there has a lot to do with it too. I’ve always felt that even with CDs and recordings, they’re fantastic too, but it’s just a different format, so this would be the same thing. I’m sure it would be documented, but it would be a different thing than the actual performance itself. I always thought Kronos was really good about that. They treated a performance as one thing, and a recording as a different thing, it’s just like what I was saying about my
cellos, you can do different things with different instruments, with different formats. And you can use that instrument or it’s format to it’s fullest, which is really exciting, but you can’t necessarily cross over that all the time.

John Adams: In The Center Of American Music

JA
John Adams
Photo by Christine Alicino
Courtesy Nonesuch Records

Just three days after completing the score for El Niño, a 110-minute “Christmas oratorio” for soloists, chorus, and orchestra, John Adams invites NewMusicBox editor Frank J. Oteri to his home in Berkeley CA to talk about his newest work and how it fits in with his compositional aesthetics, his views on religion, and his role as one of America’s most popular composers.

November 11, 2000

Transcribed by Lisa Kang and Michael Moon

Success as a Composer and Cultural Relevancy



FJO:Thank you for taking time out of an extremely busy, busy schedule to talk with me. I know you’re just finishing orchestrating . Is the orchestrating done?
JA:Yes it is. Now I have a manuscript, I just measured it this morning. It’s like a trout – it’s about 5 1/2 inches high. (laughs)
FJO:(laughs)
JA:Now I have to proof it.
FJO:When did you finish it?
JA:Probably about three days ago. My goal was to finish it before Election Day and I finished it on the 8th.
FJO:Well, considering it’s turned into Election Month, you had more time…
JA:(laughs)
FJO:I want to get things started by asking a rather loaded question but I figure it will spiral us out into lots of discussion. You’ve been referred to frequently as the most frequently performed living American composer. This mantle was once held by Aaron Copland during his lifetime, and I guess Gershwin during his… Your career in many ways is a role model for any composer in this country, and I think all of us as composers look to you, I know I do, as a model of what is success for an American composer, and not just as a composer but success as an American. And I think you’ve staked the claim to that. So, this is not so much a question, but a thought as to how you got there, and where you are today, and where you’re going, and how this could work as advice for any composer out there in the world today.


Frontpage of John Adams’s manuscript of the orchestral score
for El Niño (2000)
© 2000 Hendon Music Inc. (BMI), a Boosey & Hawkes Company
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.

JA:Well, first of all, as far as the most performed, I think it’s like a tracking poll. Maybe one month it’s someone else, then of course it’s a question of genre. But early on in my career, I think I looked at what was happening to classical composers, this hole that they’d dug for themselves, and I found it very dissatisfying. It wasn’t just that it had become a very specialist occupation, but also that it seemed to me that classical composers not only in American but in Europe as well, ceased to be major figures, major cultural forces, they way they were in the 19th century. When Verdi died, Italy closed down for his funeral, and Wagner, Tchaikovsky, Brahms, Beethoven, they were all majorly influential in their culture. And to some extent, in the 20th century, certainly Stravinsky was. But it always bothered me that as the years went on the model was not Stravinsky, not Verdi, and not Brahms, but Schoenberg. And so part of my voyage as a composer has been to try to create a musical mode of expression that was new, and provocative, and at the same time has some sort of accessibility that could communicate with a larger audience.
FJO:Schoenberg has definitely been a ghost looming over a number of your pieces. Here’s something that speaks volumes to the perception of whether composers are a major social force… I’ve heard many times from different people, including people at The New York Times, that when somebody in classical music dies the staffers at the Times gamble on whether the obituary will make it “above the fold” or “below the fold”…
JA:(laughs)
FJO:And I believe the last time a composer made it above the fold was Leonard Bernstein. Messiaen was below the fold, but at least he made it to the front page. John Cage was also on the front page but below the fold. And that says something about the role of the composer in our society, the importance that that means. It’s interesting the pockets composers went into – the warring camps, there were uptown/downtown battles, east coast/west coast, avant-garde/neo-romantic, and in a way you’re on all sides of these battles! You are all of the above. You’re in the middle but you are all of them. I don’t know if you see it, or hear it that way. I find it r
eally interesting. Even this east coast/west coast thing because you’re clearly a west coast composer living in California but you grew up in New Hampshire, and you went to school at Harvard… In a way, you are the sum total of where we are today. I know that’s a loaded thing to say. (laughs)
JA:Well, I think I’m definitely below the fold, and probably will remain that. But you know I think one needs to be aware of what really is a lasting value in a culture. You know Herman Melville wasn’t even below the fold when he died. He probably wasn’t even mentioned in the New York Times. Emily Dickinson, maybe she made it below the fold in the Amherst local paper.
FJO:I doubt it.
JA:So you know, the ones who get to do the Absolut Vodka ads get the back the cover of The New Yorker. Those are very transient items. It’s very, very hard to predict what is going to be meaningful one, two, three generations on. You know the story of J.S. Bach. So the important thing really is to do one’s work. And I know I’m speaking somewhat discordantly. (I may appear to be contradicting what I said earlier about composer as a cultural force.) I think one can be a cultural force and not necessarily be a pop icon. In a way I admire French intellectual life because the French do identify the heavy thinkers in their culture. When Sartre died, the President of France attended his funeral. One couldn’t imagine an American president attending the funeral of, oh I don’t know, Elliott Carter, for example. Or, for that matter, Toni Morrison or Russell Banks… We live in a country where the influence of popular culture is so immense that those of us who don’t participate in popular culture must accept the fact that our audience is going to be, in numbers, small.
FJO:I almost think it goes beyond that, and I’ve been making rallying cries about this for years now, about how composers, painters and authors are on currency in foreign countries, on money. Sibelius is on money in Finland.
JA:Debussy in France.
FJO:Villa Lobos in Brazil, Nielsen in Denmark, and Clara Schumann in Germany!
JA:It would be more likely be Elvis Presley or maybe even Duke Ellington in this country, and that’s O.K.
FJO:It would be great to have Duke Ellington on money.
JA:Yeah, that’s O.K. It really does represent that we are a democracy. Look at this election that we just celebrated, I guess that is the word, or suffered through depending on what your point of view is. You know if one thing is proven by this incredible event, it is that America is a very complex country with very, very different opinions.

 

 

Our Current Cultural Landscape



FJO:Now getting back to different opinions and how it effects new music, you mentioned popular culture. In a weird way you are connected to popular culture. In a weird kind of way you have one foot in popular culture in terms of the music you grew up listening to, and even some of the works you written. I’m thinking of pieces like I Was Looking At The Ceiling And Then I Saw the Sky which is in some ways, if you don’t mind me saying so, a proto-Rent. I was listening again just the other day to “Three Weeks” and I was thinking, “This is a hit song!” And at that same time you had just written a Violin Concerto that was definitely influenced by Schoenberg… You did both of those in the same year, so you’re walking that line all the time.
JA:Well, I think that’s just me. I don’t advise young composers that it’s necessary for them to be active in so many different genres. On the other hand, I think that at this point and time historically, and particularly in America, that there ought to be nothing to forbid a composer from working in different genres. I think Bernstein is the classic example of that. I have a lot of problems with the quality of what he did, but I think that the fact that he was technically able to work in symphonic music, pop music, show music, and that he did it, and did it with great imagination, and in some cases great genius, I think should be a model for all American composers. You know one of the other problems about music, and I don’t know if why this happened, is that it became so – boundaries became so rigid. And this is particularly the case in Europe where if a composer moves over into the pop realm it’s considered sort of an indecent, immoral act because we have serious art and we have entertainment, or we have “divertissement” as they say in France. But one of the great things about American culture is the bleed through. And the movies are a great example of that because a great movie may be something that was predicated upon popular appeal.
FJO:And a lot of the great movies of the past have scores by great composers like Bernard Herrmann or Miklos Rózsa, people who also wrote symphonic music…
JA:Yeah. But I’m thinking of movies like Elia Kazan‘s movies, or Woody Allens for that matter, which didn’t start out life meaning to be Pierrot Lunaire. They started out to have a large audience and to be popular entities, but in so doing became major works of cultural value.
FJO:Well clearly when you sit down and say, or if a group of people get together and as a collective process say “we’re going to create a masterpiece for all time now,” it’s doomed to fail.


The opening measures of John Adams’s Violin Concerto (1993)
© 1993 Hendon Music Inc. (BMI), a Boosey & Hawkes Company
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.
RealAudio Sample

JA:I think that’s one of the reasons why there’s the opinion that classical music is in such a state of rigor mortis now. Some young composers are breaking through, but some countries such as France and several others that have produced great, great composers in the past seem to be just frozen and I think that’s largely because of the overly zealous and gallant with the attention and almost sacramental reverence that they accord the classics so that if you’re a young composer and you feel that you’re going to have to add yourself to the lineage that goes back to Josquin and goes up to Stravinsky and on to Boulez and Nono, it’s a terribly intimidating situation, and that’s one of the things that I had to break out of when I was a college student at Harvard. If you decided to be a composition major we were given this enormous burden of the past.
FJO:Well it’s interesting because in a way, it’s not really our tradition. I mean yeah, a lot of people in the United States have ancestry going back to Europe, but certainly not everybody, and we’ve established our own traditions which are geographically and chronologically displaced from the things that are going on in Europe
. I don’t really relate to 19th century European music. I like a lot of it, but to me it’s as alien to me as listening to ragas from North India or Indonesian gamelan music, both of which I love just as much as I love listening to Schubert, which I feel is foreign music also. I grew up listening to really bad 70s pop music. Then I eventually started listening to really good 70s music. Then I started listening to new music and Broadway stuff, and it expanded out from there. But certainly Mozart or Chopin were never the center of what music was for me growing up.
JA:Well I can’t say that. I grew up listening to classical music. My parents were both jazz musicians, so that was definitely there, but my “Desert Island Pieces” were largely made up the European classical music canon, and that’s part of what makes my identity as a composer. And to this day, despite being the composer of Nixon in China, Ceiling/Sky and whatever, I can easily say the music that gives me the deepest satisfaction, that has the most meaning to me is the classics. When I hear my son practicing the “Waldstein” Sonata, my daughter playing a Mozart Violin Sonata, to me that’s still the greatest music there is.
FJO:Now in terms of popular music, do you keep up to date with all the things that are going on?


An excerpt of the song “Three Weeks” from I Was Looking At The Ceiling And Then I Saw The Sky (1995)
Music by John Adams, Words by June Jordan
© 1995 Hendon Music Inc. (BMI), a Boosey & Hawkes Company
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.
RealAudio Sample

JA:I do, but sort of on a passive level. I don’t listen to pop music with the zeal and the excitement that I did in the 60s and early 70s. I think I’m showing my age (laughs) by saying that after the early 70s I thought the ingenuity and imagination of pop music really declined dramatically, and what became more interesting about pop music is the more the theater of it or the political content of it, but the actual musical content really peaked in the late 60s. (laughs)
FJO:It’s interesting, for me I find interesting stuff all over the place and you know the stuff that’s thrown at the public is usually not the most interesting stuff.
JA:Yeah, that’s always the case.
FJO:Buried way underneath the radar of mainstream pop culture are bands like Sonic Youth or Portishead or My Bloody Valentine, and hosts of other fascinating music, like the new Radiohead album that’s on the Billboard charts now, that’s really sophisticated, and as sophisticated as a good deal of contemporary concert music. And I think it’s an interesting time, and I say this to people all the time, that the contemporary classical music audience needs to develop the alternative rock audience as a potential audience for this music. And certainly with a number of pieces of yours I can see people who listen to alternative rock, coming to listen to pieces like El Dorado, pieces like Common Tones in Simple Time, and in fact, the very first piece of yours I’ve ever heard, and this goes way back, is American Standard which was on a record produced by Brian Eno whom I was very excited about at the time, and still am.
JA:Well, I have very mixed feelings about serious composers aggressively trying to court an audience. You know when I first started producing concerts in San Francisco back in the late 70s and early 80s, we created a series of new music concerts and we took them out of the concert hall, and we had a couple in a nightclub space, and another in a fashion mart, and places where the ambiance was different, and that was fun, and a big effort was made to bri
ng the rock audience in, and to get a hipper audience, and the people came, and they were dressed in leather and in chains, and everybody thought “Oh, this is fantastically cool,” but the end result was the they were not the most discriminating or the most knowledgeable or musically literate audience. And after a while I thought, well the size of the audience, the hip-ness of the audience in the long run really does not matter. What really matters is the literacy and the sophistication of the audience. So I think as I grow older I’ve become less patient with composers who try to tailor their music. You know there really is the danger of dumbing down of one’s language and I’ve seen really gifted composers follow careers where they have to dumb down their work, and they have large audiences, and big record sales, but I think the payoff, over time, is that the work they produce becomes flatter and paler, and future generations will find their music rather bland.
FJO:I do want to counter that though with a rather loaded anecdote about the Copland Festival that the New York Philharmonic did last year. I went to the concert that you conducted, and there was this audience there, a number of people who were hearing the Copland Piano Concerto for the very first time, this piece is over 75 years old, and I thought this was a great concert. I thought you did a tremendous job with the orchestra. It was the best the orchestra sounded in my hearing them in the last several years, and it was very exciting, and there were people at intermission who were subscribers who clearly did not know who you were, and did not know the piece, and they were going on and on about “oh, that piece was just terrible.” They were talking about whether they thought the pianist was good or bad: “Well I couldn’t tell if that pianist was good or bad because there was nothing but noise, it was just banging, but that thin guy conducting, he was pretty good.” And I though “They’re talking about JA!”


The opening measures of “Soleades,” the Second Movement of John Adams’s El Dorado (1991)
© 1991 Hendon Music Inc. (BMI), a Boosey & Hawkes Company
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher
RealAudio Sample

JA:The thin guy?
FJO:Yeah. (Both laugh)
FJO:And it really made me angry. I thought to myself, you know, this is a dumb audience too!
JA:There’s this wonderful passage in the Tom Wolfe book A Man In Full where a lawyer and his wife go to an Atlanta Symphony concert and they clearly don’t know anything about classical music, and also, it’s depressing because it appears in the description of the concert that neither does Tom Wolfe, but it’s amazing, it’s amusing, and it’s absolutely terrifying to read this because you realize how many people, and you look out at the audience at the large Avery Fisher Hall, 2500 – 3000, how many people there don’t have a clue about what’s going on, so one just has to realize that not everybody in the audience is hip to what’s happening.
FJO:Right, but I do think that among the jazz audience, among the alternative rock audience, certainly not the mainstream, commercial pop music audience, but among the alternative rock audience and the alternative audiences of all of these other genres, there’s a large community of people who really do listen to music with the same seriousness, if not more seriousness, than some of the subscription orchestra attendees.
JA:Oh, there’s no doubt about it. I think what I’m trying to say here is that as I’ve grown older and grayer as a composer I’ve been more willing to just tend my own garden and not worry about keeping up with the latest thing. You know when I was 20 years old I couldn’t believe how foggy and out of it my professors were, my parents were, you know, “What do you mean, you haven’t heard of Janis Joplin?” But now I think I understand that.

 

 

 

 

Youthful and Mature Composition



JA:You know what’s interesting about listening to an older composer is, for example the late works of Messiaen, or for that matter the late works of Beethoven, you see that as that composer matured and developed that the chaff sort of filtered away, blew away, and what was intensely meaningful during his or her life crystallized, the real nugget, which is often why a lot composers end up writing sacred music near the end of their lives because that’s what means the most for them. In the case of Beethoven, or Bach or Mozart, you know they became very interested in the mechanics of music, and you find a lot of counterpoint, and a lot of fugues, and a lot pure music. They’re less involved in scandalizing an audience, or posturing, and more involved in this extreme focus on the materials of the music.
FJO:Getting to this notion of scandalizing an audience, I remember the very first time I ever heard your music live, I was an undergrad at Columbia, and I went to the Horizons Festival to hear the premiere of Grand Pianola Music, and there were boos in the audience, and I was cheering. And it was great, I was thinking, “Here we are, Lincoln Center, this bastion of conservative European music, even though it doesn’t look like it is, you know it’s a very austere American modernist-looking place even though you rarely hear contemporary music or American music there, and here’s this piece that was really defiant, really brash, full of energy, really exciting, and there were people booing. “This is great,” I thought because I was this young revolutionary-wannabe going to these concerts. And you certainly had times in your life, and you even said as recently as ten years ago that there are always pieces of yours that are “trickster” pieces. One of my favorite pieces of all of them is Fearful Symmetries which is this relentless joke in a way. So at this point, I believe, in listening to the MIDI recording of El Niño (which is all I have to go on because it hasn’t been performed yet), there are elements of the trickster still in there. I almost hear a synthesis between the so-called trickster pieces and the so-called serious, it almost seems like a grand synthesis of the two. Is this the direction now?


The opening measures of John Adams’s Fearful Symmetries (1988)
© 1989 Hendon Music Inc. (BMI), a Boosey & Hawkes Company
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.
RealAudio Sample

JA:Well, I think I really caused myself unnecessary grief by suggesting about 10 years ago that there was the trickster JA because I haven’t been able to get rid of it. It’s been like a piece of gum that you get stuck on your shoe for months. But let me say to respond to that that I do think that wit and humor and for that matter entertainment are things that a great artist ought to have the option to do, and certainly Shakespeare is always my first citation there. In King Lear there’s great humor, Hamlet has humor although it’s sort of a dark savage humor. And you can find it in Goethe, and all the really great creators. And one of the things that I was really bothered by about avant-garde music was its intense humorlessness. That seemed to come with the territory.
FJO:Although feeding a piano with hay is pretty funny.


An excerpt from the Third Movement of John Adams’s Grand Pianola Music (1981-82)
© 1982 Associated Music Publishers, Inc. (BMI)
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.
RealAudio Sample

JA:Well yes, there’s Dada. If you want to be funny you have to go to extremes. And that’s really a very provocative issue about some of my music. You mentioned Grand Pianola Music. To this day I can’t quite explain what that piece is about but it’s definitely a funny piece. Although not all of it is, some of it is quite tranquil and very lyrical. But again, I think that’s part of the American experience, you know we live this life that is full of all sorts of mind-bending paradoxes, the typical “5 children murdered in their classroom, details at 11 — now sports” kind… so we have to live with those kinds of non-sequiturs in American life, and I think you find a lot of that in my music.
FJO:So getting back to this issue of responding to all these different currents, we talked about east coast/west coast, uptown/downtown, old/new, avant-garde/old-fashioned, popular/classical, even secular and sacred, trickster/serious… Clearly in your early career you were grouped with the four most prominent minimalist composers, Reich, Glass, Riley and La Monte Young, and now we’re discovering there were a whole host of others, and you’ve been identified as the person who took minimalism out of the rigors of high modernity and opened up the Pandora’s box of post-minimalism. Where do you see yourself in this trajectory, in the lineage? And who were your heroes when you were doing this?
JA:A lot of this depends on when you live. And I live at the period in musical history that, for lack of a better term, is sort of post-stylist. You know we talk about post-modernism, and modernism and this and that, and it seems like I was the first, and if not the first one of the first, post-stylistic composers. A composer for whom style wasn’t a fundamental preoccupation… And you know it’s interesting that when I talk to a person like Steve Reich, I feel the generation gap very strongly even though we’re only 10 years apart. His criticisms of my work tend to be on stylistic grounds. They’re less so on content, and hopefully not on value grounds although maybe he’s just being polite, but there are very strong criticisms on stylistic grounds and I think of that as being more of a mindset of the modernist era when style was extremely important. You know I grew up in a period when the LP record was the major document, the major databank for young composers. And this was something that even someone born in the 1930s didn’t have in the amount that I had, so every aspect of music was available to me when I was a kid. I could listen to Indian music, and I could listen to rock and roll, and jazz, and Beethoven and Stravinsky and later on avant-garde music came out on LPs, so naturally it would seem an automatic thing that a composer would develop a musical personality that would reflect that vast reservoir of influences. And when I read John Cage, whom I adore, you know I love John Cage and I was very influenced by him in many ways, but the most puzzling thing about John Cage was his total exclusivity. He wasn’t interested in jazz; he wasn’t interested in rock and roll. He wasn’t interested in Mozart. He was only interested in certain contemporary composers if they fit into his particular point of view which would be Satie, or Varèse, or who knows what. And I felt, that’s fine, but it’s also so exclusive, it’s like looking at life blinded.
FJO:And it’s almost hypocritical in a way. I mean you look back, I remember reading a statement of Cage denouncing Glenn Branca after how loud one of his concerts was.
JA:Oh I know that story.
FJO:Yeah.
JA:I can’t say it’s hypocritical, I think it’s very honest.
FJO:But it showed that he did have a viewpoint.
JA:Well yeah, but you asked me if I listened to techno and I said no. You know it’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just that I have so many things that I can involve myself into.
FJO:…Although I would contend that with Hoodoo Zephyr you almost did make something that’s almost a techno album…
JA:My point being we’re talking where I am historically, and when I look around and see other composers, both in this country and Europe, I see that the direction that I took in the mid to late 70s was not the wrong direction. It was really actually the right direction even though it was very punishing and I took an enormous amount of ridicule.
FJO:From both sides.
JA:Yeah, from both sides, it’s true. I felt like a Centrist Democrat.
FJO:(laughs)
JA:You know you have Ralph Nader on one side…
FJO:…and Pat Buchanan on the other.

 

Differences in Europe and America



FJO:You were talking about European composers and the strangle hold of culture in places like France, Germany and Italy. It’s interesting to me because there’s a lot of really interesting music happening in England now, new music, younger composers in England, in Finland, and in a lot of the former Eastern block countries, and I think the reason why that’s happening is while they’re in Europe, there isn’t this ‘grand’ old tradition in these countries. You know there’s no great 19th century English composer, for example. Certainly, there’s Sibelius in Finland whom every composer there has to deal with, but he’s a turn of the century figure so he’s a very different phenomenon, and in the Eastern European countries this is even less true, places like Croatia, Estonia, etc. And in a way that’s how it is being an American composer. That, and the blend of cultures… There’s this Bill Murray movie I saw years ago, this really silly movie called Stripes, and he talked about how American’s are mutts – and that’s our great cultural legacy to the world that we’re mutts.
JA:Mongrels.
FJO:Yeah, and you even used the title “Mongrel Airs” for the first movement of your chamber symphony. So that’s clearly an American position. I don’t know if you could have developed the way you have developed as a composer had you lived in any other country. I don’t know what you think about that.


An excerpt from “Mongrel Airs”, the First Movement of John Adams’s Chamber Symphony (1992)
© 1995 Hendon Music Inc. (BMI), a Boosey & Hawkes Company
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.
RealAudio Sample

JA:Well it’s so hard to second-guess what elements converge to create an important period in culture. What is sort of depressing but true is that if you look at the history of culture you see that there are times, there are little tiny pockets in the timeline, for example Renaissance Florence, or Paris in the 20s, or for painting, the period in France in the last half of the 19th century, and you know it’s very hard to say what brought about a Sibelius, or what brought about a Bartók, or Shostakovich. You know sometimes you have a very powerful mind working in an environment that was actually geared against him.
FJO:Shostakovich is a perfect example.
JA:Yeah, or Edvard Munch in Norway where these people became temporarily exiles, which was certainly the case with Munch, or with Hemingway. So it’s just such a complex thing to try to figure out. I suspect that part of the reason why American culture had a good time in the 20th century is that there’s been a lot of money, and there’s been an issue of our finding our identity. And if you read about Gershwin, he had an enormous complex. He wanted to be thought of as a classical composer, and we’ve forgotten because we think of Gershwin as this great composer. We don’t care if it’s classical, or pop, or Broadway or what, we’re just so thankful that he lived and he did what he did. But I think that judging from what I know about him, he suffered deeply throughout his life that he wasn’t considered a classical composer.
FJO:There’s that old legend that Gershwin went to Ravel and Ravel said why be a second rate Ravel when you could be a first rate Gershwin.
JA:Whether that’s apocryphal who knows…

 

Success as an American Composer



FJO:(laughs) You said something that is interesting for composers out there, me among them, as a composer talking to you and talking about the career path and what it represents, about the money that’s out there in America that’s been able to create things, and in a way you’re in a very unusual position in that you are able to write big pieces, large, really significant works for orchestra, and now this piece for soloists, chorus and orchestra, operas, and certainly, even though these operas are some of the greatest operas written in our lifetimes, even these works are not getting a lot of performances, not getting the performances they deserve to get. I mean Nixon still hasn’t been done at the Met; it still hasn’t been done in Manhattan. It was done in Brooklyn. Even for somebody at your level, it’s still not getting what it should be getting in a way. There isn’t a lot of incentive for most composers nowadays to write the big works, to write for orchestra, to write opera, to write for chorus.
JA:Well, I’m not exactly sure that’s true now. It’s been my impression that in terms of commissions there’s never been a more bullish period in American history. There are all these operas being commissioned. San Francisco Opera has commissioned 4 or 5 operas, and the Met is on a big commissioning program, Chicago, those are all the big ones, and the smaller companies are commissioning like crazy, and orchestras are commissioning works, so it seems like actually this is a tremendously good time to be alive as a composer of large-scale works. As to their durability and as to what you mentioned second performances or gaining repertoire status, I’m more philosophical about that. I think that large works are very expensive to produce, and companies need to feel that audiences are going to come back 5-10 years later and still have the same interest that they did at a premiere. It takes a long time for a work to trickle in and become an integral part of the American culture. So I just think that that’s a matter of time. You know you can look at the Virgil Thomson operas which are now being given a serious re-evaluation, and what, those were written in the 30s.
FJO:There’ve been some fabulous performances of them recently.
JA:Yeah, and the Bernstein Candide which was laughed off the map, and now is being taken very seriously and is becoming a repertoire item. I remember when I was a young composer that Wozzeck was a specialty item, and I personally played clarinet in the American premiere of Moses und Aron which had never been in the United States. That was in 1967 and it was already 30 or 40 years old at that time. Nixon in China may not have been done in Manhattan and may still be awaiting new productions in the United States, but it’s got a very healthy history for a new opera, and the Death of Klinghoffer is getting two separate productions next year.
FJO:Terrific, who’s doing it?
JA:The Finnish National Opera, and then there’s a full scale feature film being made of it that’s got a $6-7 million budget by Channel 4 in England.
FJO:That’s exciting.
JA:So you know, it’s not a bad time for large-scale works.
FJO:Well in some ways having an opera on film really is a way, once that film exists, to potentially reach a great many more people. Certainly it doesn’t replace a live performance but it has greater outreach. And I want to steer this into the whole question about outreach. Performances are just one thing, but you are also in a great position vis-à-vis having a recording company like Nonesuch that is willing to A) have the funds to make the recording, and B) to actually release the recordings and promote them and do great work for them to get them out to the press, to the radio, to everybody who matters. …Even to issue a 10-CD box set! You’ve also have had multiple recordings of works released by other labels. And on the other side of this is a publisher like Boosey and Hawkes who is able to get the material out there, to get me an advance on an un-proofed piano score of El Niño so that I am able talk about it with you before the premiere. This is great. But getting back to all these orchestral works that are getting commissioned, there’s still a sense that contemporary music is in some ways an interloper on the standard repertoire and composers get commissioned to write short, maybe 10-minute works, and certainly your most-widely played pieces are the fanfares. Short Ride in a Fast Machine gets a lot of performances, it’s a great concert opener. But I’d love to go to a concert where the featured concerto is the JA violin concerto instead of the Brahms or Mendelssohn violin concertos. I love these pieces, but I’ve heard them a lot, and I’ve heard them a lot live.
JA:Well, you know it may happen. I can remember when I was in college that the Berg violin concerto was never played except in new music programs, and now it often takes the place of the Beethoven or the Brahms.
FJO:But even looking at this point and time, there’s a geographical, and chronological disconnect even with the Berg violin concerto. He died in 1935. That’s a long time ago.
JA:Yeah, but that’s it called classical music. I think people need time to absorb something. Often it isn’t that we need 30 years to listen to a piece over and over again to make a value judgment, it’s more that one looks back at a document from an earlier era, whether it’s a novel by Faulkner, or a poem by William Carlos Williams, or a painting, and we see, we feel the intensity of the experience that that creative voice had at that point and time, and that work of art is that artifact of that experience. That’s why Howl means so much to the Americans because it sort of embodies a particular period in American sensibility.
FJO:To extend on that, there certainly was a long period in the 20th century where there was body of works which you could listen to over and over again and eventually realize their greatness as a listener, following the score, hearing this music. But not a lot of people are willing to give a piece of music a second chance, and certainly a new piece of music, at the premiere maybe it gets 3 rehearsals maximum from an orchestra, and it’s not a ideal performance, and maybe it’s in a very complex style that’s not immediate to most listeners. There is no second chance.
JA:Well, if a work, if it’s got value, if it’s good, will find its way. And it may take time. That’s just one of the depressing features of being an artist. But very often something that is difficult takes many, many years, and it takes champions, and it takes a performer who will pick up a work and say, “You know this is a really great piece and I will devote my life to being a champion for it.”

 

Practical Musicianship



An excerpt from JA’ Phrygian Gates for solo piano (1977-78)
© 1983 Associated Music Publishers, Inc. (BMI)
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.
RealAudio Sample


FJO:Getting back to the 70s… Your formative years as a composer, coming out to San Francisco, conducting, working with the ensemble, working with the performers closely, that was really a time when a lot of composers, I’m thinking of Philip Glass having his own ensembles, Steve Reich and musicians, and lots of your contemporaries in California like Daniel Lentz and Paul Dresher. A lot of composers were establishing their own ensembles because the orchestra was a disconnect, it was far removed. People also weren’t writing string quartets, now everyone’s writing string quartets again. Everyone’s writing for standard ensembles again, and in standard forms. A lot of the avant-garde composers would never dream of writing an opera, and they certainly weren’t writing for orchestra. And then I guess there was a shift, in the ’80’s, as these composers became recognized through their ensembles, and this is true for your work as well, to a good extent.
JA:Well, I actually very, very much admire to the point of envy those composers who had a sound image and who created an ensemble to embody that sound image. You know, you mention Reich and Glass, and those are, you know, very important cases. Meredith Monk, Harry Partch… Um, for that matter, Conlon Nancarrow.
FJO:And, to stretch it, Duke Ellington, and all the other jazz composers.
JA:Yeah, O.K., of course. But I think that very much is in the American grain. And in that sense I am less of a progressive figure in that what I do is to take formats which had already pre-existed and I’ve sort of tweaked them, by adding samplers and synthesizers to the orchestras. I was a child of the orchestra, I started playing in an orchestra when I was in elementary school and it’s been my mode of expression, so it’s been a natural thing for me. And for what I know of these other American composers I’ve mentioned, they grew up either completely indifferent to the orchestra or naïve of it. And, I mean, thank heaven that they did because they created this wonderful new music. You could never have had the sound of Steve Reich or the sound of Harry Partch if you’d tried to do it within the context of a string quartet or a woodwind quintet or the symphony orchestra.
FJO:Well, as a playing musician, a working musician, as a clarinetist and then later on as a conductor, you definitely bring a sense of practicality to your music, especially in terms of the way it’s notated. I’ve been going through all these scores and it’s been really interesting. Even the early minimalist pieces, pieces like Common Tones in Simple Time or Phrygian Gates, there are no repeats, it’s all notated out, it’s very precise, it’s very user-friendly notation, and it’s designed in such a way that I think a lot of these other scores from that period were not.
JA:Well, you know, my formative years, my apprenticeship years were during that terrifying time of, you know, where musical notion became a sort of Godzilla, and composers started trying to trump one another with experimental notation and it sort of reached a point of complete absurdity…
FJO:Tom Johnson?
JA:No, I’m thinking of Treatise.
FJO:Oh, you mean Cornelius Cardew
JA:It looks like a sketchbook that an architect might do, or for that matter some of the Cage scores
FJO:They’re beautiful to look at, but…
JA:When I first came to San Francisco, for the first ten years I was here, I did concerts with the students at the San Francisco Conservatory and we specialized in performing those kind of scores and they were always fun for us to figure out how to play and the concerts we gave were fun for us, but they were often just completely opaque and meaningless experiences for the listeners. And I began to realize that musical notation, as it had developed through the years from Gregorian chant up through, you know, the 1950s and 60s, was a very precise and very usable form of getting the job done. Just the way that printed text read a novel. And that was a great discovery for me. Certainly, there was some procedures in avant-garde notation that we still use today, but a lot of my musical ideas could be expressed in sort of garden variety, standard notational terms. And, of course, this causes a lot of trouble with performers, because the first time they’re going to do a piece of mine they get the score and they look at it and they think “Oh!” you know “this couldn’t be too hard, looks pretty normal.” And then when they get into the performing of it, you know, this happens with orchestras that haven’t played a piece of mine before, or singers, they find that experience looks the same on the page, but that in reality it’s a totally different experience, unlike one they’ve ever had in terms of where they have to plug themselves into the rhythmic flow and they find that it’s quite a new experience.

 

Setting Texts



An excerpt from the piano reduction of JA’ The Wound-Dresser (1988-89), text by Walt Whitman
© 1989 Red Dawn Music, a division of Hendon Music Inc. (BMI), a Boosey & Hawkes Company
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.
RealAudio Sample


An excerpt from the aria, "News Has a Kind of Mystery" from the opera Nixon in China (1987)
Music by JA, words by Alice Goodman
© 1987 Hendon Music Inc. (BMI), a Boosey & Hawkes Company
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher
RealAudio Sample


FJO:You’ve written a lot of vocal music, three evening-length music theater works, the two operas and Ceiling/Sky, Harmonium for chorus and orchestra, The Wound-Dresser, and now El Niño.
JA:And I don’t know how to sing. I can’t carry a tune. It’s true!
FJO:But, there’s definitely a clearness, a crystalline quality to the vocal lines that you write that really marry the text, it really is about conveying the words of the text without hindrances. I mean, there are these periods in this century’s music and certainly in the past where you’d have these really angular lines wandering all over the map and no one could know what the words are. When I was in high school, I remember hearing a hard-core total serial setting of some of Shakespeare‘s sonnets, and I thought it showed no understanding of that text whatsoever. You know, I find your vocal music really exciting in that it does convey the words of the text. And when you’re working on a setting, like the Emily Dickinson poems you used in Harmonium, or a libretto about Leon Klinghoffer on the Achille Lauro, and now all these poems by Sor Juana Inéz de la Cruz and all of these Gnostic and medieval texts concerning the Nativity, what is your approach using a text? Is the text the starting point, where does it go from there?
JA:Well, you know, what I said about my not being able to sing is really true. And that may actually have some deep psychological underpinning to the way I actually approach text setting. I think, first of all, language is intensely important to me. I read a lot of poetry; I read an enormous amount of fiction. And I’m interested in language, I read German, I read French, and I read Spanish as well as English. So, the way a word is set, you know, the inflection of it and also the intelligibility of it is very important to me. I’m not a composer who uses a heck of a lot of melisma for example. I view text setting as a matter of embodying the text but also respecting it. I like to work with good texts. You know, I think that the two Alice Goodman libretti are among the best libretti ever made. You know, whether the music’s any good or not, I don’t know, but I think that…
FJO:It is!
JA:Nixon in China is one of the great librettos of all time. And, so, when I said I think I have an enormous respect for the words, and particularly with American English, I like to make the rhythm of the language flow so that one actually not only hears the words and enjoys the melody and the harmony but also appreciates the succulence of the actual rhythm of the language.
FJO:There’s a moment in Nixon that I absolutely love. It goes beyond conveying the rhythm of the text musically, it conveys the meanings of the words as well. Nixon’s big aria in the First Act about “News.” At one point, he suddenly sings “It’s prime time in the U.S.A.,” and there’s a sudden modulation on U.S.A. You’re in a new chordal area there, and it conveys the glee at what Nixon must have been thinking, you know, “Wow, we’re going to get some publicity out of this on prime time TV in America; what a great moment for me.”
JA:I think my inspiration has largely come from popular composers, particularly composers like Richard Rodgers as well as The Beatles. You know, English is not the ultimate ideal language to set. You know, Italian is by far more desirable to set. But the thing about English is that almost all of the great popular music has been in English. Whether it’s been Billie Holiday songs or Gershwin songs or Richard Rodgers.
FJO:Even rock bands in foreign countries sing in English!
JA:So, if they can do it, why can’t a classical composer do it well? And interestingly enough, most contemporary classical composers I think do a terrible job setting English. I can’t explain why they do it, but when you hear a contemporary opera that’s set in English it’s so discordant, it’s so tone deaf. And I think that one of the problems is that the composers are thinking classically, their thinking as if they were European composers approaching the libretto, when what one really has to do is to imagine one’s a pop composer setting these texts.
FJO:It’s great that you bring up Richard Rodgers because I remember I was in a music theater composer’s workshop years back and I was told that Oscar Hammerstein II had this dictum that the words must marry the music. And in your work clearly the words marry the music. And to step away from this, though, now you’re setting texts that are not in English as well as texts that are in English. Is the approach different for Spanish than it is for English?
JA:No, I don’t think so. I think, you know, Spanish is not my first language, nor even my second language. It’s been a real voyage of discovery. I made a couple of mistakes in setting El Niño that some native speakers have caught.
FJO:And now they’re fixed.
JA:Yeah, hopefully they’re fixed! (Both laugh) But, I think that part of working in another language is just simply it’s a wonderful voyage of discovery. These poems that we chose for El Niño – I say ‘we’ because Peter Sellars was so intensely involved in helping me create the libretto – they’re mostly by women, and they’re almost all by Hispanic poets, and they have a clarity, they have an intense emotional depth to them that gives to this nativity story a color and a resonance that I think is completely new and hopefully, if I’ve done it right, will really give a new slant on this age old story.
FJO:Working with singers who are trained to sing dead composers, you know Puccini or Wagner or even Alban Berg versus singers who are trained to do Broadway musicals… You know, I worked with a singer on a piece once who wouldn’t stop rolling his Rs and I wanted to jump out the window! What do you do to guarantee that the vernacular English sensibility that you brought to it as a composer stays that way in the performance?
JA:First of all, I have been very, very fortunate in my life as a composer that I’ve had almost universally really great singers, who never rolled their Rs and wouldn’t roll their Rs even in Handel. People like James Maddalena, Sanford Sylvan, now I’m working with Dawn Upshaw and Lorraine Hunt Lieberson… So, if you start off with that caliber of singer you don’t have to worry about those things, and I’m happy that we record these pieces because we get what the composer wanted right from the start.
FJO:And then you have a blueprint for future performances.
JA:Well, hopefully.

 

Amplification



An excerpt of dialogue from the Piano Reduction of Act 1, Scene 2 of the opera The Death of Klinghoffer (1990)
Music by JA, words by Alice Goodman
© 1991, 1994 Hendon Music Inc. (BMI), a Boosey & Hawkes Company
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.
RealAudio Sample


JA:I get an enormous amount of criticism from opera purists about the fact that I require light amplification. And even some of my singers have been insulted about that because I’ve made comments in the press that I don’t like large operatic voices because I think they’re a strange mutation in the species that started with Wagner. But, what I like is a singer that can be natural and not forced, and while there are a couple of opera singers who have strangely huge voices that don’t sound forced – Thomas Hampson and Bryn Terfel are two examples of this – most singers really have to go in overdrive to fill a three thousand seat hall. And I don’t like overdrive. I don’t like it Wagner, I don’t like it in Verdi, and I certainly don’t like it in my own music. So, I still view amplification technology as in its infancy. I think we are, when it comes to speakers and microphones, we’re at where the Wright brothers were in aeronautics.
FJO:In terms of getting the sound to really sound like the source…
JA:Yeah, I’m saying if I can set the standard now and say “O.K., things are not ideal now but this is what I want” and I’m willing to suffer through an occasional bad speaker or a mike that, you know, crackles or something like that and doesn’t have full frequency response, in a hundred years this will be normal, halls will be built already with sound systems in them and people won’t have to scream. And there is this whole generation of young singers – people like Audra McDonald and Dawn Upshaw for that matter – who are totally comfortable with miking. And it’s just the opera companies who feel that, you know, that the Huns are at the door with their body mikes and their speakers. You know, I was told by someone at a major American opera company that she would never do Nixon in China as long as I insisted on amplification. It simply would not be performed in there, in her house!
FJO:Well, you know, it’s interesting because this gets into the whole “does place make the space” question, to paraphrase Sun Ra. But, you know, halls determine largely the sound of the music you hear in them, and I’ve heard amplified music in Carnegie Hall and it sounded wretched. And I’ve heard unamplified music at Iridium and it also sounded wretched. Or at the Knitting Factory, I was at a concert of this great jazz pianist, Andrew Hill, and they amplified his drummer because the sound guys there are used to amplifying drummers for rock gigs. It was a disaster!
JA:Oh yeah. Well, look, you know, everything is based on situations. You know, I’ve done an amplified piece of mine at the Concertgebouw and, you know, it was a disaster with amplification and it would have been even more of a disaster without amplification. So, you know, no situation is ideal. But we, as composers, simply have to decide what it is that we want. For example, Steve Reich always uses amplification, and sometimes it sounds great, sometimes it sounds terrible, but that is the model.
FJO:Right. And, certainly when you use certain instruments, like in El Niño you’re using guitars in the orchestra, and people who write guitar concertos or people who play guitar concertos with an orchestra, have to be very careful how to do that in terms of how things are orchestrated around the guitar part or how the guitar is amplified or where the guitar is placed with the other musicians, otherwise it won’t work.
JA:It’s been an instrument I’ve become very excited about in the last four or five years. There’s a large guitar part in this huge orchestra piece I wrote last year, Naïve and Sentimental Music, and there’s a guitar in my Violin Concerto , there’s guitar in Ceiling/Sky and also in a piece called Scratchband.

Religion



An excerpt from JA’ Harmonium (1980-81), text by John Donne
© 1981 Associated Music Publishers, Inc. (BMI)
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.
RealAudio Sample


An excerpt from JA’ Shaker Loops (1978, revised 1982)
© 1978, 1983 Associated Music Publishers, Inc. (BMI)
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.
RealAudio Sample


FJO:Earlier in this discussion, you were talking about how some composers in their later, more mature works turn to sacred pieces. The earliest piece of yours that was on my radar and on most peoples’ radars because it got disseminated through recordings was American Standard which has as its second movement “Christian Zeal and Activity,” the voice of this preacher on a tape with the ensemble playing on top of it. And certainly Shaker Loops references the Shakers, an important American religious community, and you’ve set John Donne who wrote a lot of great sacred poetry. And I guess, on the opposite side of that, there’s the preacher character in Ceiling/Sky who’s a rapscallion in a way, you know, he’s a womanizer, in the end he turns out to be a pretty good guy, but he’s right down the middle and we’re never really quite sure whether or not this he’s a good guy or a bad guy, and certainly there are religious elements in Klinghoffer and the zealotry the main Palestinian protagonist comes from a religious position. Where do you see the role of religion in society, and, by extension, the role of sacred music and why are you turning to a sacred work? A work that’s overtly that way?
JA:Well, I hate to think of religion in terms of a role, so I’d rather not answer it from that angle. I think every person has a spiritual life. Now, whether that is a highly evolved spiritual life, a person belongs to a church or a temple, meditates every day or goes to church or prays or whether it’s a totally different kind of less organized activity, it’s really up to the individual. And I can’t actually describe to you what my inner religious life is. I grew up in a small town in New England, and went to several Christian churches with my mother. My mother was a person who had grown up in an Irish Catholic family, and she’d married a man who had come from a Swedish Lutheran family and who hated religion, he just didn’t want anything to do with it. So, my first memories of religion were going to the Episcopal church with my mother in this very small town in Woodstock, Vermont. I even remember being baptized, my parents had not gotten around to baptizing me until I was about four. So, I do remember that. And then later on my mother decided to join a Unitarian church in Concord, New Hampshire, and I can’t remember why. It was either because she had more friends in the church or it had a better choir or she was disgusted with the Episcopalian church for some reason. I can’t remember. But I was very aware and intensely serious about the Christian philosophy at that time. And then I sort of drifted away from it. When I was in college, I became very interested in Buddhism and in Indian religion, partly from being involved with the 60s and the drug culture. I can’t tell you where I stand on it now, officially. But I do know that the mythology, if you want to call it that, of the Christ story obviously had a profound effect on me, and particularly this very sweet and simple story of the Nativity. So, this was a piece that I always wanted to compose. I think for 20 years now I’ve wanted to do this piece.
FJO:What’s so interesting to me though is that many year ago I read the Gnostic gospels, you know, the gospels according to James, and all these other gospels, and they are these wonderful pieces of prose that are little known. And in a way, by setting those texts, by basing things around those texts, it’s not tackling a sacred piece from necess
arily a sacred position because these texts are not really worshipped by anybody.
JA:You mean it’s a Unitarian point of view.
FJO:(laughs)
JA:Well, I don’t want to imply that I have some secret agenda at all. I wanted to tell a story, but not the same story that Handel told. Nor did I want to be aggressively avant-garde about it. And the Gnostic gospels are wonderful because they are like little fairy tales. It’s the same setting, it’s the same fundamental narrative, but they’re different, they’re little events. There’s this wonderful little story where they are on their way to Egypt and they stop by a cave and dragons came out of the cave. Of course you can see why the founding fathers of Christianity didn’t want this particular story in the New Testament because dragons immediately cast doubt on the validity of the story. And there’s a lot of magic.
FJO:Yeah, I love the story of when Jesus is 5 years old and I guess his elementary school teacher is annoyed that he’s getting all the answers correct…
JA:The Al Gore of his time…
FJO:(laughs) And the teacher chastises him and of course says he’s wrong about something, and of course Jesus wasn’t wrong, the teacher tries to hit him and he’s frozen.
JA:Yeah.
FJO:I love that.
JA:I chose them partly for that reason, I like that there is this sort of whimsy and fairytale quality about them. But also, there’s wonderful character shaping. In the Gnostic Gospels there are confrontations between Joseph and Mary that are quite modern. It’s very clear that Joseph thinks when he first hears Mary is pregnant that he’s been cuckolded and this is never quite brought out in the official gospels like Book of Matthew. So those were wonderful elements to incorporate into this.
FJO:Now, you’re calling it El Niño, but it originally had the title How Could This Happen which I really like as a title because it is ambiguous, but El Niño also has a wonderful ambiguity to it because it also conjures up that terrible weather pattern that we had a few years ago. With a title like How Could This Happen or El Niño you get a sense that it isn’t all positive. And certainly the history that’s played itself out in the last 2000 years as a result of this event whether historical or mythological or how ever you want to look at it, not everything has been positive. Is that sort of part of the idea giving it these one or two different titles?
JA:I don’t think so. My first title which was How Could This Happen is actually a translation from Latin, it’s a line from the Christmas Antiphon that was sung in Medieval church on Christmas Eve. It was a word, or a phrase that came into my mind the very moment my daughter came into the world. In the delivery room there were 5 people in the delivery room, then there were 6, and I think I chose that title originally because it was an expression of this sense of one’s complete incomprehensibility that you simply cannot explain how a human being can come into the world. And the only reason I decided not to stay with that title is because it didn’t seem to have a poetic scansion to it, people didn’t glom onto it as they did to Nixon in China. And there was a possibility a certain arrogantly, ironic twist to it that I didn’t want it to have. I chose El Niño because in all the Spanish literature about the Nativity, the words El Niño are there all the time, and it’s in this Sor Juana de la Cruz poem where she speaks of El Niño, the baby child that comes into the world. As to the resonance with the storm, I think that one could make the point that Christ was referred to as the wind, this powerful being from heaven, which came in and completely upset the tables and the temple and threw humanity into chaos which is necessary for one’s spiritual growth. I suppose one could deconstruct the title on that level.
FJO:And certainly by setting a lot of Latino poets, you are referencing the community that was hit hardest by El Niño.

A Totalist Oratorio?




An excerpt of the Soprano Solo in "Hail Mary, Gracious" from the Piano Reduction of Act I of JA’ El Niño (2000)
{text from the Wakefield Mystery Play} showing Adams’ use of elaborate polyrhythms
© 2000 Hendon Music Inc. (BMI), a Boosey & Hawkes Company
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.


The opening measures of JA’ Harmonielehre (1985)
© 1985 Associated Music Publishers, Inc. (BMI)
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.
RealAudio Sample


FJO:You’ve referenced Handel‘s Messiah before, I also think of Berlioz‘s L’Enfance du Christ which I wish would be done more often because I think it’s a great piece. The oratorio tradition is something that we’ve really lost in our time, and to some extent, you referred to Klinghoffer as an opera-oratorio which it is to some extent. How can we create an oratorio tradition that is relevant for today? I mean El Niño is clearly trying to do that, and there are multi-media elements in that piece.
JA:Well, relevance is such a tired concept right now. I’m trying not to do things that are relevant. I’m just trying to do things that are very meaningful to me. I resisted the word oratorio for the longest time because it seemed the word was from the dust in the past and summer choral societies and the English Midland singing Elijah or Elgar pieces that went on forever. But there really isn’t a better term to describe what this is; it is an oratorio. It is fundamentally a setting of text, it’s not intended to be a work of music theater, although I shaped it so that it could be treated almost as an opera, and it will be at Châtelet. It’s very important that the great key I took from Handel is that I did not lock a certain person into a certain vocal role. So therefore I’m able to have Mary be both the light-lyric soprano of Dawn Upshaw, but also the heavier more intense mezzo of Lorraine.
FJO:From what I could glean from looking at an un-proofed piano score and listening to 2 CDs of a MIDI generated performance (it’s great that these exist and I do want to talk about how MIDI demos can be an asset in rehearsal and in composition to know what’s going on as you’re working on it), El Niño seems to be a culminating piece from everything I’ve heard, and I’ve been listening to your music for over 20 years. The directness and immediacy of the early work is there, but also the later complexity, works like the Chamber Symphony, the Violin Concerto, there’s stuff going on, there’s 5 against 6, there’s 7 against 5. If you turn the page and you don’t listen to it almost looks like a page of an Elliott Carter string quartet. But it doesn’t sound that way.
JA:No it doesn’t! (both laugh)
FJO:But there’s clearly this poly-metrical thing happening and some very sophisticated happening with meter and rhythm. It’s brought back to this earlier, immediate style which is very exciting to me. It’s almost has this quality of the stuff that’s being dubbed as totalist music. You know, the Bang On A Can stuff. Complex polyrhythms that are immediate, so it’s taking that complexity and bringing it back into the language.
JA:I haven’t thought of that.
FJO:I can’t wait to hear it.
JA:You know, as far as being a summary or a culmination it probably would feel like that only because it’s a big piece. It’s 110-minute of music that I worked on over a two-year period. So probably, no matter what I did, it would have some sort of summary quality to it. But in terms of my musical language, I feel that I’m at a period of integration now, my harmonic palette was very pure in the 80s, and there was the minimalist element that was far more easily perceptible, and then I almost aggressively turned my back on that during the early 90s with pieces like the Chamber Symphony which you mentioned before, and the Violin Concerto, and explored a darker, more complex musical language, and I’m very pleased that I did. I think good pieces resulted from that, and I think I broke away from what I think is becoming a cul-de-sac of musical language. And now I think that I’m sort of taking all those elements and rounding them into a language which is very satisfying to me and defies any stylistic description.
FJO:If I dare say so it’s music that needed the whole 20th century to happen in order for it to happen. There’s definitely the imprint of Schoenberg, Stravinsky, Ives, Copland, Carter, Reich, but it’s completely you. I mean from the minute I pressed play on the CD player and heard that first movement, I instantly recognized it as your music. That’s really exciting because you may say it’s post-stylistic music but you have a voice, you have an identity, you have a sound and I hear it in the Chamber Symphony, I hear it in Harmonielehre, and all of these pieces…

Beyond Experimentation



The opening measures of JA’ Common Tones in Simple Time (1979-80)
© 1982 Associated Music Publishers, Inc. (BMI)
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.
RealAudio Sample


JA:I think that literature has been through this same song and dance as music, there was a period when the novel went through this great experimental phase, certainly with Joyce and Gertrude Stein. I used to read a lot of women’s experimental works that were written in the 60s. And now the great novels that are being written, the great novels of American life, Russell Banks‘ novels, and Toni Morrison‘s, They’re really not experimental.
FJO:Toni Morrison is…
JA:Well some of Toni Morrison is, but certainly much of the great literature being written in America is not being experimental in the sense that Finnegans Wake or Donald Barthelme was. What people are really interested in now is the experience of the characters and the way the novel represents the intense moments of people’s lives. I just finished The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver… There’s this incredible story of this missionary’s family in the Congo. And I feel my music is very similar to that. I’m not interested in stretching boundaries of technique in the way that Cage was or even Carter was for that matter. I’m more comfortable with absorbing all the language developments that have happened over the last hundred years, and what’s more important to me is the actual content of what the work is about.
FJO:Well one of most exciting recent novels that I’ve read in the past couple of years is Carol ShieldsThe Stone Diaries, I don’t know if you’re familiar with it…
JA:No, I’m not familiar with that.
FJO:It won the Pulitzer. It’s a straightforward narrative with a plot that moves you from beginning to end, but it’s also experimental on some other levels. It would go in and out of these diaries and these inner-thoughts but it kept gripping you with narrative, and it was a synthesis. And I hear, rather than see, what you’re doing is a synthesis, much like that’s a synthesis, much like so much of what’s happening now even in the visual arts, is a synthesis of all these influences. It’s a return to tradition but also a looking beyond the avant-garde, because now the avant-garde isn’t avant-garde anymore. It’s old fashioned to some extent. The avant-garde is what needed to be overthrown, so we are now in this post-avant-garde world. It’s kind of an exciting place to be in.
JA:Well I’m always amused to consider the fact that the most avant-garde piece after Beethoven of the 19th century was Tristan und Isolde, and if you look at Mahler, if you look at something like the 4th Symphony of Mahler, he still hasn’t caught up with Tristan and Isolde. It was only at the very, very end of Mahler’s career that he started challenging tonality and form in the way that Tristan does, even though from his childhood he knew of Tristan. So I think that tends to show us that there are periods of enormous advance, like the period of The Rite of Spring for example, and then there are periods when there’s not so much a retraction or retroactivity as there’s this kind of synthesis. Certainly Mahler was much more a synthesizer, and so was Brahms. Not to put myself in the same class as those composers, but I think that that period, we’re in that sort of synthesizing period now, and a lot of the bad music that I hear is by composers who still haven’t psyched that out yet, who still are not quite comfortable where they are and feel that they need to be avant-garde in one way or another and there’s this sort of aggressive unpleasant confrontational aspect about their work which expresses their fundamental indecisiveness as to where they are.

Technology, Chamber Music and the Symphony



The opening of Hammer and Chisel from John’s Book of Alleged Dances (1994) for string quartet with foot-controlled sampler by John Adams
© 1994 Hendon Music, a Boosey & Hawkes Company
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.
RealAudio Sample


The opening page of JA’ Road Movies (1995) for violin and piano
© 1998 Hendon Music Inc., a Boosey & Hawkes Company
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.


The opening measures of JA’ Naïve and Sentimental Music (1998)
© 1999 JA. Published by Hendon Music, a Boosey & Hawkes Company
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.


FJO:We talked a bit about technology and how technology can liberated us when we talked about the use of amplification, and disseminating music through recordings. The use of electronic technology for what is essentially non-electronic music. I mean you have used synthesizers in your music from Light Over Water, to Hoodoo Zephyr which is all synthesizers, but for the most part you are writing for acoustic instruments even if they are slightly altered through the use of amplification. I remember an article I read about around the time of the premiere of the Violin Concerto. I was so thrilled that you were faxing parts back and forth with the violinist, and I was thinking: “This is exciting. We have all these office tools and you can use them for music.” And now I guess you don’t even have to fax the pages, you can send a Zip file through the Internet. How do you feel about that as a composer working with all these tools?
JA:Well, I don’t think it’s any different than how it’s helped anyone in any other aspect of life. It defines our existence these days that we all use e-mail, and the Internet, and digital this and digital that. I mean you can look at any activity and see how it’s been profoundly affected. In my case certainly the most important change from an artistic point of view, you know, is what I do with synthesizers and samplers. When El Niño is done, it will be done with a complete what I call ‘sound design’ with the engineer, Mark Grey, whom I worked with for many years, where not just the voices are lightly processed, but the orchestra and the hall itself so it may be a great hall in which case we’ll have to do very little, but the piece inevitably will be done in really bad halls, and they can turn a bad hall, if not into a great hall, into a serviceable one. So that’s been the major contribution that technology has had to my work. I love synthesizers, I’ve always loved them. I composed an album called Hoodoo Zephyr for Nonesuch, and I was very disappointed that it was a flop, a serious flop in sales. People simply didn’t buy it, and the people who did buy it didn’t understand it or didn’t like it, and I was really disappointed by it because I loved making the album. I spent a lot of time on it.
FJO:I enjoyed it a lot.
JA:And I would have loved to make more of them, and if life were longer and there were more hours in the day, I’d try to work in film because I think the marriage of electronic, or synthesized music and film is a natural one, but there’s just so little time and so much to do that I’ve just had to make a decision.
FJO:In terms of things to do and projects that are looming, I love all of these large-scale works, I love the fact that they exist. Part of me, though, wishes that you’d have time in addition to writing these great pieces, to write also more chamber pieces because I love Road Movies, I love Shaker Loops, the seven-string version, and you haven’t had as much time to do these smaller pieces. Are there any of these smaller scale pieces that you want to write in the future?
JA:Well the very next piece I’m doing after these performances with El Niño are done is a solo piano piece for Garrick Ohlsson who’s a wonderful pianist whom I worked with on the Copland concerto and I think has got a very special way with the piano, so I’ll be writing a solo piece. I don’t think I’m very good at chamber music.
FJO:Oh I don’t agree, I love Road Movies.
JA:I don’t think that those pieces are that successful. I really like the recording of The Book of Alleged Dances, I love listening to it, but you know it really was never a big success when Kronos toured with it. Audiences were not particularly taken with it. And you know maybe it’s just a situation that it needs to be performed by different groups and have a history, but I just haven’t felt that I’ve been very successful, and I’m not being tendentiously modest here, it’s just didn’t appear to me to be my forte in the way that for example Carter is a really great chamber music composer, or Bartók, or Beethoven. But you can talk me out of it.
FJO:In terms of your place in the tradition and the standard works, and bringing back this world of oratorio, there are certainly works like Naïve and Sentimental Music which is in essence a symphony. And Harmonielehre is to some extent also a symphony. But you have not used the word symphony for any of these works. Will you ever?
JA:You know I thought about it, and every time I think about it I’m troubled or burdened by certain pre-conceived notions, so it’s easier to just not deal with that, and simply say I’m going to write a large scale work for orchestra, and a title comes to me. And whether it ends up being a symphony or not, as people say, “s’not me problem”.
FJO:Well certainly in terms of reaching younger audiences, a title like Naïve and Sentimental Music goes a lot further than “Symphony no. 5 in f# minor”; it’s a lot more exciting and a lot more evocative.

 

El Niño
Frontpage of JA’ manuscript of the orchestral score
for El Niño (2000)
© 2000 Hendon Music Inc. (BMI), a Boosey & Hawkes Company
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.

 

Violin Concerto
The opening measures of JA’ Violin Concerto (1993)
© 1993 Hendon Music Inc. (BMI), a Boosey & Hawkes Company
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.
RealAudio Sample

 

I Was Looking At The Ceiling And Then I Saw The Sky
An excerpt of the song “Three Weeks” from I Was Looking At The Ceiling And Then I Saw The Sky (1995)
Music by JA, Words by June Jordan
© 1995 Hendon Music Inc. (BMI), a Boosey & Hawkes Company
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.
RealAudio Sample

 

El Dorado
The opening measures of “Soleades,” the Second Movement of JA’ El Dorado (1991)
© 1991 Hendon Music Inc. (BMI), a Boosey & Hawkes Company
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher
RealAudio Sample

 

Fearful Symmetries
The opening measures of JA’ Fearful Symmetries (1988)
© 1989 Hendon Music Inc. (BMI), a Boosey & Hawkes Company
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.
RealAudio Sample

 

Grand Pianola Music
An excerpt from the Third Movement of JA’ Grand Pianola Music (1981-82)
© 1982 Associated Music Publishers, Inc. (BMI)
All rights reserved. Used with permission from the publisher.
RealAudio Sample

Pauline Oliveros: Creating, Performing And Listening

Pauline Oliveros
Pauline Oliveros

Frank J. Oteri meets with Pauline Oliveros at Mills College, Oakland CA

Wednesday, November 8, 2000, 8:30 – 10:00 p.m.

Transcribed by Lisa Kang

1. Defining a Legacy

FRANK J. OTERI: First of all, thanks so much for taking time from your extraordinarily busy schedule of performing and teaching to meet with me. This is a great honor. As I said before we started recording, I feel you are one of the major figures in contemporary American music. I know that’s somewhat of a loaded statement, because it raises a lot of questions like “What is important?” and “What is a legacy?” And so where I’d to begin with this is to ask you what you feel your most important contribution to music has been. And you can even tell me if you think that’s not a valid question.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well, I’m not terrifically interested in leaving so-called masterpieces, but I think that more important is the work that I have done to facilitate creativity in others as well as in myself. What I think about legacy is leaving behind ways of listening and ways of responding which leads to making music. So probably the work that I began in 1970 called Sonic Meditations is that direction.

FRANK J. OTERI: And do you feel that there is any one work that is somehow a summation of what you have done. A musical composition…- If people wanted an introduction to the music of Pauline Oliveros, what should they listen to first?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Oh boy, that’s a hard one. That’s a difficult question because I’ve been around for a while. I have 5 decades of making music. Right now, for example, there are something like 4 or 5 CDs of my old electronic music from 1966 and 1967 reissued, and these are pieces that were never released before.

FRANK J. OTERI: Right, there’s a great disc on Pogus.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Right, Pogus is one, and there’s another one coming out soon, and there’s one on Sub Rosa, and one on our own Deep Listening label which is coming out. That’s not old electronic music, that’s newer. So there’s a lot of action, there’s one on Paradigm, so there are several. Then there’s some MP3 stuff floating around too.

FRANK J. OTERI: Oh really? I didn’t find any of those yet.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well, go to mp3.com and you’ll probably find it.

FRANK J. OTERI: O.K., I’ll do that. For years I’ve had an old LP on Columbia Odyssey featuring an early electronic work of yours. And there’s also a wonderful LP on Lovely Music for accordion and voice that they still haven’t put out on CD.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yeah, they haven’t reissued that.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s a very nice record.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: I sent a message to them about that fairly recently, but I haven’t heard back.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, maybe when we get this thing up on the Web they’ll do something about it.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: (laughs) Well, maybe so.

FRANK J. OTERI: Then of course, there’s been lots of stuff on CD now on all different of labels: New Albion, Mode, and Lovely Music.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: So what I would suggest to answer your question best I can is I have a Web site, and on my Web site there’s a discography. A lot of these records are out of print now, of course, but there’s stuff that keeps being renewed on new labels. Maybe looking into the discography to see what’s there, and also to tour around my Web site a bit. And then that would be a good introduction.

FRANK J. OTERI: Hopefully this interview will also serve for people as a means in. You mentioned the Sonic Meditations. We actually have a copy of the score of it in the American Music Center‘s library. To the best of my knowledge, there isn’t a recording.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Not really. They are not necessarily recordable because there’s a whole experience that goes along with doing them. They are not necessarily intended to be concert pieces, even though I come from making concert music. But I turned the paradigm around by saying, “O.K., you make the music.”

2. Rethinking the Canon

FRANK J. OTERI: Well that’s what I really want to get into further as we talk about your not wanting to write masterpieces. Do you even feel it’s valid to want to be a part of the western canon of classical music?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well, what that canon is at this moment is kind of a question. I mean the western canon – you think of what’s being taught in academic institutions which generally center around 18th century so-called common practice.

FRANK J. OTERI: And it’s common to a few countries in central Europe. (both laugh)

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well it certainly came from the first Viennese school which was definitely riddled in aristocracy, music for intellectual pleasure. If we’re talking about that, I have as much influence from that but it’s balanced with a lot of other influences of music from around the world.

FRANK J. OTERI: At this point of the game, I mean now that we’re at the dawn of the 21st century, it’s really foolish to even think of a western canon. I mean we really have a world music that we can examine now with the development of recordings.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well, we’ve got a 100 years of recording and the recording is probably the single most important technological development for musicians in the 20th century. That in the first half of the 20th century, second being the computer, and then the integration of computer and recording, of the computer technology and recording. Those are 2 very, very evolutionary developments. It has certainly made possible the exposure of world music, music from different parts of the world. But it has also made it possible to have a mirror image in sound.

FRANK J. OTERI: And for there to be communication between cultures.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: And that.

FRANK J. OTERI: Traditional musicians in Zimbabwe can hear what traditional musicians in Bolivia sound like, and visa versa.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Because of the mobility it’s possible for those musicians to mingle with one another.

FRANK J. OTERI: One of my favorite stories is about an old Jimmie Rodgers song winding up in Kenya in the 1930s and influencing a whole style of music there. They started building their own guitars. There’s even one group of people in Kenya that deified Jimmie Rodgers because he must have had super natural powers; he was able to communicate through this recording but he was so far away.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yeah, right. It really is about ancestors and respect for ancestors.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now, we can perhaps talk a little bit about several world music canons instead of just a western canon. In America in the 20th century we have a whole experimental music canon going back to Ives. I would argue that it goes back even further than that to the string quartet attributed to Benjamin Franklin and the hymns of William Billings. Most of the interesting concert music in America has been experimental in some form or fashion. And your music has been on these series that Michael Tilson Thomas did here at the San Francisco Symphony, the American Mavericks Festival. Your music was also part of a concert that the New York Philharmonic did of American experimentalists. Do you feel you fit in with that group of people? Another loaded question.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: I would say that I find myself feel collegial and had peer relationships with a fairly large group of people that where that was most apparent was probably began in 1979 with New Music New York which became New Music America for a good 10 years. There were New Music America Festivals moving from city to city. So the first one was in New York, the second in Minneapolis, then San Francisco. The idea was to move the festival to a different city every year. And in that festival were people who were composer-performers, or people who were so-called experimentalists or from the so-called avant-garde tradition were brought together every year. So there was a lot of camaraderie and exchange and places to go to play, and that festival served a really amazing function. They grew every year until it blew over the top and it ended. The last one was in Montreal.

FRANK J. OTERI: That was a great way to show the geographical diversity of new music in this country. The cliché is always for people think of New York and the San Francisco Bay Area as the two hubs of experimental music. But provocative things are happening all over the place. I think you offer an interesting perspective on this also since you grew up in Texas completely outside all of this. How did you come to music initially?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well initially it was because my mother and grandmother were piano teachers, and I heard music lessons every day, and I sort of gravitated to music myself. There was always music around one way or another, I heard a lot of music. Houston, where I grew up had a lot of different kinds of music. It wasn’t a town for new music, or for jazz. I don’t remember hearing Stan Kenton, for example, in Houston.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s interesting because nowadays the Houston Opera is quite adventurous. They commissioned Meredith Monk‘s Atlas, and John Adams and a lot of interesting productions have come out of Houston. People always say New Yorkers have this snobbery about new music. Well, when I first realized that Houston was doing all these new operas, I was thinking, “Wow, we don’t even do all that in New York.”

PAULINE OLIVEROS: This is true. It’s a little more decentralized. In New York we have the Metropolitan Opera that doesn’t do new music.

FRANK J. OTERI: Yeah, Lulu and Moses and Aron are considered the cutting edge of the avant-garde. They’re both from the 1930s!

PAULINE OLIVEROS: But to throw things a little further along, in all of its history, the Metropolitan Opera has only done one opera by a women, and that was Ethel Smyth‘s The Forest.

FRANK J. OTERI: Wow, when did they do that?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: In 1903.

FRANK J. OTERI: Wow, I didn’t realize they had done that.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yes, and it was a big success. But they’ve never done another opera by a woman since.

FRANK J. OTERI: I want to get back to that later.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yeah, we’ll go up and down. (both laugh)

3. Texas

FRANK J. OTERI: I find it so intriguing that you grew up in Texas and chose the accordion as your instrument because that already guarantees that you cannot be influenced by the western classical tradition because there is no western classical tradition for the accordion.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: (laughs) Well, the accordion was invented in 1840 and so it was already past the classical tradition. And there’s a lot of snobbery about what instruments can be included in the so-called canon or not. But my mother brought the accordion home in the 40s because she was going to learn to play it and add to her repertoire of what she could teach. I got fascinated about the instrument and wanted to learn it, so I did.

FRANK J. OTERI: A few years back at a flee market I bought a Weltmeister accordion and I try playing it every now and then, but after all the physical energy required to do it, I quit. I can’t last for more than 10 or 12 minutes. I’m out of shape. (both laugh)

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well yes. It does require a lot of coordination because of the coordinating of the bellows, getting the air through the reeds and also playing buttons on the left and a keyboard on the right. And of course when you go in the vertical direction up is really down…

FRANK J. OTERI: Right, right. The world sort of turns sideways then backward-sideways. It’s interesting to talk about the accordion’s influence in music. The accordion is an instrument that the western classical tradition didn’t incorporate, but all of these other musics used it – like the Polka music of the German immigrants in Texas, and it wound up in Tex-Mex music. There were all these great Norteño accordionists like Narciso Martínez, and nowadays Flaco Jimenez. Did you hear any of this music when you were growing up?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well the accordionists that I heard were Cajun accordionists because Louisiana isn’t that far. I can remember hearing Cajun music beyond the big jukebox of the 40s listening to “Jolie Blonde” and playing it over and over again.

FRANK J. OTERI: I love Amade Ardoin

PAULINE OLIVEROS: But I didn’t hear Norteño music until after I left Texas because it wasn’t that available to me in Houston at that time as I was growing up.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s interesting because Norteño accordion music is more about lines and melodic phrases, whereas Cajun accordion music is more about breath and pulse, and that really is something that has shaped your musical sensibility.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yeah, definitely. The Cajun accordionists really know how to make a sound. Those instruments are different too.

4. Role Models and Contemporaries

FRANK J. OTERI: Who were the compositional heroes in your early years? Here you are in Texas, you have a mother who taught piano, and you’re playing the accordion now, and you enter the realm of academic music composition.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well, I was always interested in music that I had never heard before. I was interested in all kinds of music, and the only reason why I might not have been interested in new music, or music that was being written right then and there is because I wasn’t exposed to it. Otherwise I would have been interested. I’m really, what should I say, a little resentful that, for example, I didn’t get to hear music by Ruth Crawford. I mean she was alive until the mid 50s; she died in 1953. I heard a little bit of Schoenberg, but that was the most recent music that I’d heard by 1949, or 1950.

FRANK J. OTERI: You were at UCLA at that point?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Right. And I had heard of Charles Ives, but I didn’t get to hear his music. And also in the late 40s and early 50s, there weren’t that many recordings available. So to be exposed to a lot of current or contemporary music was just not what could happen. And nobody was playing it in Houston so I couldn’t get to hear it.

FRANK J. OTERI: But you went to study composition.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yes. I was in the University of Houston, I was actually an accordion major. I had a really fine teacher Willard Palmer who I studied with for 6 or 7 years. He was trying to have the accordion be an academically acceptable instrument, and helped to build a repertoire for it, and he made transcriptions for it. So my acquaintance with Baroque music and some classical music came through transcriptions. When I went to University of Houston my major was accordion. He had established that as a major at the University of Houston. And I also took composition, but I had already made the decision by the time I was about 16 that I wanted to be a composer, I just didn’t know how to be one.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now at the time, now that we get to the loaded gender question., I remember reading in one of the articles that you had written how you were the only woman in composition class, and what that was at the time. You weren’t able to hear Ruth Crawford Seeger’s music, and there were no models. What were the attitudes of the male students in the class and the teachers?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well, actually, there were other women in that composition class at the University of Houston. I had composition for a year before I left – that was my third year – but I think the real cue came for me when my mother came home one day and she played some pieces for me that she had composed for a modern dance class at the YWCA. They were interesting, dissonant little pieces that looking back I realized that was a subliminal cue. There really were no models other than that.

FRANK J. OTERI: Even still there’s an assumption, and it’s disappearing more and more, but if you look at the rosters of the major publishers in this country – Meredith Monk just got signed to Boosey and Hawkes, but until then Barbara Kolb was the only living woman composer on their roster. At Schirmer the situation is very similar – Joan Tower is there but few others – Presser has more, including all three women composers to win the Pulitzer thus far. But there’s still this double standard where at this point in time there shouldn’t be. There are as many interesting women composers out there as there are men composers today.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yeah, there are lots; there are quite a few. There are more than I knew about coming up. When I came to San Francisco in 1952, I was in a composer’s workshop at San Francisco State, and on that case there were 25 people there, and I was the only woman at that workshop. And I was writing dissonant music at that time.

FRANK J. OTERI: Were you writing serial stuff?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: No, I never wrote serial music. (both laugh)

FRANK J. OTERI: Was there a reason?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: I wasn’t particularly interested in that, I was interested in what I heard, and I think some of my music sounded serial, but it wasn’t. I had it by ear, so to speak.

FRANK J. OTERI: There’s this question of intuition versus rationalization. In the middle of the 20th century, academia became dominated by really hyper-rational music, and intuition was largely discredited. It was unfortunate, because if you listen to earlier dissonant pieces by Ives or Varèse

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Or Ruth Crawford…

FRANK J. OTERI: Or Ruth Crawford. And it coheres to the ear in a way that an equally dissonant piece that might be structural along all sorts of rational visual systems does not because all of these composers were writing what they heard.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: That’s right. I knew that was what I was doing; I was writing what I heard. That was what was important to me was to follow that, follow what I wanted to hear.

FRANK J. OTERI: But there’s definitely a stylistic break between your early work and, dare I use the word, your mature compositional style. What would you say was your pivotal moment?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well I think it was quite pivotal when I began to work with tape music. That was at the end of the 50s. I began to play with sound on tape and I also began to improvise. So improvisation and tape music, and then electronic music, took me into another level of listening and formulating sound.

FRANK J. OTERI: And how to d
escribe it? Longer, sustained, tone-based music…

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yeah.

FRANK J. OTERI: Where it’s much more concentrated and time is slowed down. And that was sort of a zeitgeist in the 60s with people like La Monte Young, Terry Riley, and yourself, and later Meredith Monk and Reich and Glass. It’s interesting because traditionally you don’t get lumped with that group of people, yet in some ways you inspired all of it.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: (laughs)

FRANK J. OTERI: Because you were doing stuff with tape loops before anybody.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well, that was really part of the time. It was a pretty natural thing to have happen. Different people would have done it sooner or later.

5. Electronics and Indeterminate Music

PAULINE OLIVEROS: The first kind of tape loop that I can remember was 1960 when Ramón Sender and I started what was called Sonics, and this was gathering equipment together to make an electronic studio, and we had the attic at the San Francisco Conservatory, and this was the beginning of the San Francisco Tape Music Center, and what came here to Mills College and was renamed by Robert Ashley the Center for Contemporary Music later on. But we always did an improvisation in our tape music concerts, live improvisation. And Ramone had the idea to make a tape loop between 2 tape machines that would run while we were improvising. So one machine crossed to another so that there would be a long delay. Then he would play it back to us as we were improvising.

FRANK J. OTERI: And it would go round and round…

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yeah, it would come around again. It wasn’t a closed loop; it was an open loop.

FRANK J. OTERI: So it sort of created a canonic form. Now the whole question of this technology is interesting because your music is very much about nature in a lot of ways. At the same time you talk a lot about technology. A lot of people think of it as the antithesis of nature. But in a weird kind of way by channeling technology, it’s sort of allowed us to reacquaint ourselves with more natural modes of making music. It’s sort of a Marshall McLuhan-esque view of technology and the future. We talk about recordings. Oral traditions which weren’t notated in standard music notation systems didn’t get preserved except in so far as they got handed down from generation to generation. Recordings allow a different kind of transmission, so they allow us to return to the roots. We no longer need to notate music in order to preserve it. Were you thinking these things even in the 60s when you were doing stuff with the Tape Center? This activity predates your involvement with Sonic Meditations and Deep Listening.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well sure. With tape there wasn’t any need to write anything down because you had the tape. I didn’t make scores, I just made tapes. As I got more interested and involved in improvisation; improvisations were recorded so there wasn’t any need to notate anything there either. I mean the tape was the notation.

FRANK J. OTERI: So those pieces exist as recordings, but they couldn’t be recreated again.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Not necessarily, no. But then I’m not so very interested in that necessarily. I’m more interested in the continuing variation.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well so much of your music since the 1970s has been about the physical process about making music, and there’s something about splitting and splicing tapes, or working on a Buchla synthesizer, that really sort of divorces sound from it’s physical means of production. You don’t really get that physicality, that breath, as it were, whether it’s through singing or through moving your hands back and forth on an accordion. You made a statement at one point that everybody needs to make non-verbal sounds. Yet we as a society don’t really do things to foster that, and music is just one of them, but just to be able to go bleb-bleb-bleb feels good.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: This is true. (both laugh)

FRANK J. OTERI: You don’t necessarily need a conservatory degree or to be a coloratura soprano or a baritone to be able to enjoy doing that.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: This is true.

FRANK J. OTERI: This gets back to the notion of it’s not really about composition for you in the sense of your working out these parts that someone else then plays, and has to play according to what you desire. You create things that allow people to find themselves.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: This is true. It’s an interaction, it’s interactive music, not in the sense that interactive is used in technology but that I can offer a proposition, and someone else can engage in it, and engage the material in their own creative way.

FRANK J. OTERI: So this raises a whole other gamut then. Say you have a piece, and you go hear a performance of that piece, and these people worked on it. Often it may sound completely different than what you imagined.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: It might. (both laugh)

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yeah, why not recognize that?

FRANK J. OTERI: How do you feel about that as a composer?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: I feel fine. I mean it would be very interesting to see what I have instructed, what results from the construction I made.

FRANK J. OTERI: To turn this question backwards. People say that indeterminate music sounds completely different each time someone plays it. Well, what I find more fascinating is that you can have performances that are from scores that are completely open form sounding quite similar to each other. And I find that really fascinating. John Cage always talked about divorcing intent from composition, but it’s still there, there’s still a compositional voice. I can tell when I’m hearing a Cage piece.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: I can pretty much tell that I’m hearing my music too.

6. Collaboration and Improvisation

FRANK J. OTERI: A lot of work you do, one of the things that’s so rare in western classical music is the idea of working with other composers and creating works with other composers. You said something very interesting in an article you wrote about women composers and society back in the 1970s. Of course the world has changed a great deal in 30 years, but what you said at the time I think is still relevant to gender issues to this day. Everybody is so engaged in the ego of creating a work, whether it’s a work of music, a novel, or a painting, but every human being is created by two people. I don’t think most men would think in those terms. Already there’s this collaboration. All of us are a product of collaboration. So to have this notion of a single author of a compositional work is really unnatural in a way.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yeah. Well it’s the promotion of the individual that has come of the 19th century in heroism and so on. But music before, I mean if you go back far enough, composers were anonymous.

FRANK J. OTERI: And certainly in other cultures there are group creations of things, and in our own culture, most rock groups create the music together.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yeah, they’ll create what they’re doing. Sure.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s interesting, jazz has now become academically acceptable, and we’ve gotten into this notion of the jazz composer, and the notion of the soloist improviser. You know, Charlie Parker‘s solos are his compositions. And yet we’ll take an ensemble and say this is Charlie Parker. Even though there are other people playing there we call it Charlie Parker’s record even though it really isn’t. There really was a group of 5 people that were playing. But that hasn’t happened yet in rock only because all these guys give names to the groups that don’t include their own names most of the time.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well you know I have the Deep Listening Band, and we co-create what ever it is that we play. Sometimes I’ll have a title for a piece, and we use that, and it’s my piece. Sometimes Stuart [Dempster] has a title and it’s his piece, or suggestion, but then we all work it out.

FRANK J. OTERI: With the Deep Listening pieces, has anybody else ever played those pieces. Do they exist in any other form than their recordings?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well most of what the Deep Listening Band plays is stuff we’ve done together. We don’t broadcast it for somebody else to do.

FRANK J. OTERI: But you certainly do the pieces more than once.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Often, yeah.

FRANK J. OTERI: They are not necessarily just improvisations.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: What do you mean by ‘just improvisations’?

FRANK J. OTERI: I’m not sure how to say this! (both laugh)

PAULINE OLIVEROS: It’s interesting, isn’t it?

FRANK J. OTERI: Yeah it is.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Because there’s built-in to that particular way that you said that…

FRANK J. OTERI: Yes, you are right. You are absolutely right. How to say it? I guess replication is the issue.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: O.K., replication. What do we need that for? We’ve got recordings?

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s true, but if music is this physical act, and this communal act – we haven’t really gotten into that aspect of it – recordings wonderful though they are, divorce music from that. All of a sudden somebody could be listening to the Deep Listening Band and not deeply listening to it. They could be washing dishes to it.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: That’s right.

FRANK J. OTERI: They could be shaving to it, or whatever, or have it on a walkman on a bus, and have all these other stimuli going on at the same time. And in a way it’s sort of divorcing it from its physical root. How do you feel about that?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well, we have live music, and we have recorded music. And as John Cage said, you need a lifetime to listen to live music and a lifetime to listen to recorded music.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s interesting because Cage made a lot of statements against recorded music.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yes he did.

FRANK J. OTERI: And it’s only since he’s died that there have been all these great recordings of his music. They are fabulous.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yeah, there’s a lot of good stuff. But also what has happened is that a record is no longer just a record. It’s useful as material, and Cage has brought that about. He did it in 1942. He had a radio in one of the percussion pieces, so all of a sudden you hear a piece of music of some kind and it’s incorporated into his piece. But today, DJs think nothing of mixing together anything they want to mix.

FRANK J. OTERI: Right.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: To make something live and performed, and physical, I mean there’s a physicality to scratching and using turntables and so on. And it becomes alive again.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s a weird full circle.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: It’s no longer an artifact, but as I say, it’s material for a new creation, co-creation, appropriation, all of that. And I think it’s pretty fantastic that that’s happened, that it’s become such a wave.

7. Working with Other Musicians: From Quintet of the Americas to Sonic Youth

FRANK J. OTERI: So getting back to this notion of replication and scores, and improvisation versus composition, or having something that other people can do or work with. You were one of the earliest people to experiment with alternative forms of notation – graphic notation, etc. When you’ve dealt back then to now, I mean now this is stretching back more than half a century. How do classically trained performers respond to those scores, how do they initially respond…

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well of course early on, the most radical departure was to do Sonic Meditations and just to transmit a score orally. I’ve found that the most receptive people were people who were not trained musically.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s ironic.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: They didn’t bring that baggage to the experience. Early reactions, as far as musicians were concerned, they weren’t interested, or they were ready to put it down because it didn’t resemble what they were used to engaging with.

FRANK J. OTERI: And now?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Now it’s much easier because the musicians have experienced so much and have been exposed a great deal. But you still run into attitude.

FRANK J. OTERI: And from all different perspectives.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Sometimes when you don’t think it will happen it does.

FRANK J. OTERI: Getting into this whole idea of sharing music, and what that means, and what a composer can do who shares music. In addition to playing music yourself and co-creating music live with other performers, you’ve also written works for other people to do. And the range is so interesting. Everything from working with a wind quintet, like Quintet of the Americas, to a chorus, like American Voices, to the rock band Sonic Youth, one of my favorite bands of all time… These are a wide range of people who had to deal with a score of some sort from you. I’d be interested in hearing how the Quintet of the Americas reacted and then how Sonic Youth reacted because they have very different backgrounds.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well, Quintet of the Americas, I worked with them on Portrait and with that piece<RealAudio Icon Here; link to 20fp05>, they each get a pitch set and metaphor.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s really a piece about them.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yes it is. I’ve asked them to work from a feeling base. Here’s some pitches – there’s one called signature and maybe there are 3 pitches, make your signature with those 3 pitches, if you chose to go to that particular place in the map to play. There are also instructions there for listening in certain ways so that they can move away from those given pitches into more improvisation, but with guidelines for how to listen to other people or other sources of material. And they were scared because they hadn’t done anything like that before. They hadn’t really had any experience with performer choice, or improvisation, or whatever you want to call it. But still, the guidelines are there. It’s like here, here are some guidelines, make a piece out of it. Well, you think, “That’s not a score because there aren’t any notated pitches.” Well it’s not pitch-centered in the first place. We have pitch, we have rhythm, we have harmony and timbre, texture, density, volume. We have sound, we have silence and you put it together.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, this is an interesting challenge to the notion of replication, a piece tailor made for an ensemble. It wouldn’t make sense for another wind quintet to play this piece because this is their piece.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well another wind quintet could have the score. Anytime anybody plays the piece they get a set of pitches which is unique to them. It’s computer generated, it’s program designed. So the pitch comes from information which is the name of the person, the date of birth, the place of birth, and the time of birth, and that information is then interpreted by the program and a set of pitches comes, and they are absolutely unique to that person. Each player in the quintet had a set of pitches that were unique to them, so that the 5 people were each contributing their own portrait to the overall portrait of the Quintet of the Americas. So it can be a solo piece or an ensemble piece, or duo, trio, or whatever, an orchestra.

FRANK J. OTERI: In our library at the American Music Center, we also have an orchestra score from 1981 called Tashi Gomang which looked really interesting to me.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yeah, I have a tape of it right here.

FRANK J. OTERI: Ooh. I’d love to hear it… I imagine that your approach with Sonic Youth was quite different from these.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Sonic Youth got a piece called Six for New Time<RealAudio Icon Here, link to 20fp06> and I wrote it especially for them for 4 guitars and 2 percussion. It also is a performer choice piece but it’s designed for some of the attributes of the group. There are noise components, in the pulse rhythm, and so on, and they have choices they can make. There’s kind of a map – there’s a hexagon that had different choices around the hexagon, and also ways of listening. I think maybe there’s a scale they can choose to use as well. I was not able to be at the recording session. They wanted me to be there to work with them, but we could never get our schedules together. They had to work with the score themselves, and William Winant was one of the percussionists; he has an office across the hall.

FRANK J. OTERI: I noticed that.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: He’s played a lot of my pieces. In fact he was on this recording Tashi Gomang from 1981.

FRANK J. OTERI: So you really can’t speak to what it was like to work with Sonic Youth.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: No because I didn’t get to work with them.

FRANK J. OTERI: But I guess you can say what you feel about the recording.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yes, well I like it. I think it’s really fine. I mean I wish I had had a chance to work with them. I might have been able to bring out more aspects of the piece.

FRANK J. OTERI: I found that the whole recording project they did so thought provoking. In the classical music field we talk about this ghetto of new music, and all the established rules, “You can’t program a piece by a living composer or by an American composer because no one will come to the concert, etc.” Sonic Youth does this album with your music, with Christian Wolff‘s music, John Cage..

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yoko Ono

FRANK J. OTERI: All this music. And they have a huge fan base and people are buying it and people are hearing very experimental music, sounds they’re not used to hearing, and loving it.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: That’s right.

FRANK J. OTERI: I’ve been to Sonic Youth concerts and their own music is informed by their knowledge of the experimental music tradition, and there are young people, thousands of young people hearing these unusual harmonies, unusual guitar tunings, unusual intervals and loving it.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: And I’m finding that I’m being very, very well received by young people, and I really appreciate it, I like it. I play with lots of different people. DJ Spooky and I played together…it’s very interesting.

8. Teaching

FRANK J. OTERI: You’ve been teaching for years and years, so you’ve always been able to stay young in that sense, and stay connected to a lot of music – when jazz came along there was a divide among people. A lot of people said “This isn’t serious music.” Now we’ve gone past that. And there’s still a divide with rock, with people over a certain age saying, “This just isn’t serious music,” and that includes jazz people saying that rock isn’t serious music. And now the rock people are saying that about hip-hop, and sample-based music. It’s like every generation has this. For a short period of time I taught English in high school, and it was a great way of staying young, and staying connected, not falling into the trap of getting jaded.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: That’s important.

FRANK J. OTERI: In a way it’s a two-way street, this whole teaching thing.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: My mother is 86 now, and she’s still teaching. A lot of her friends were young people, and she likes that. I think that I get it from her.

FRANK J. OTERI: So as someone who teaches composition, someone who founded the contemporary music department here, what do you do with your students. How do you keep them open minded? What do you do to keep them open to possibilities?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: I trick them. (both laugh) It’s very interesting, you get a 20-year-old person who’s going on 65. (laughs) Basically what I do is listen to what they say, and if they’re not saying it, well then I find ways to get them to say it, to say something.

FRANK J. OTERI: And what kind of styles are your students are writing in, is it all over the map?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: It’s very diverse, I would say. I’m not even sure if I know how to answer that. Each student is definitely treated as an individual, a new person. I don’t try to teach composition, I don’t know how to do that. But what I do know how to do is listen to what people bring to me and ask questions about it. And that’s basically what I do. I try to draw them out as to what it is they want the piece to do, how do they want it to function. If I can find materials that support what they’re doing I can do that. It’s basically listening and questioning.

FRANK J. OTERI: I was lucky enough, as fate would have it, to get to attend a concert here this evening, and it was wonderful being able to hear it.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Matthew Goodheart. Yeah, it was pretty fantastic.

FRANK J. OTERI: So he’s one of your students?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: No, Matthew graduated from Mills a couple of years ago. He wrote his thesis on Cecil Taylor. That was 1995, I believe, when he was working on that, because I came as a guest in 1995 and then I started teaching here in the fall semester in 1996. Matthew graduated right about then. Cecil Taylor had just been here and done a 40-piece orchestra work and Matthew’s thesis was writing about that whole process.

FRANK J. OTERI: I should get a copy of his thesis.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yeah. Well it’s online.

FRANK J. OTERI: I actually knew him before tonight because he’d sent a recording to NewMusicBox that we featured a year ago.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yeah, I think he’s quite an interesting guy. You’ll find an real interesting variety of students here. The one thing that keeps me interested is them.

FRANK J. OTERI: I feel a great energy from this place.

9. Listening vs. Hearing

FRANK J. OTERI: We talked about the process of composing and the process of performing. What about the process of listening, an area that’s really important to your work, which is a third equally crucial part of the equation? How would you describe Deep Listening in a nutshell as a process for the listener?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: It’s listening to everything all the time, and reminding yourself when you’re not. But going below the surface too, it’s an active process. It’s not passive. I mean hearing is passive in that soundwaves hinge upon the eardrum.

FRANK J. OTERI: And we’re taught to sort of channel out stuff. Like, I’m hearing vibes right now in another room here and I’m actually enjoying them but I shouldn’t be listening to them.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Why not?

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, because society says I should stay focused on the one thing.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: You can do both. You can focus and be receptive to your surroundings. If you’re tuned out, then you’re not in contact with your surroundings.

FRANK J. OTERI: And I think you can’t really listen to music if all you’re doing is hearing sound.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yeah. You have to process what you hear. Hearing and listening are not the same thing.

FRANK J. OTERI: There’s this wonderful statement in an essay you wrote about the zoo and about how we’re such a visually based society. Zoos are open for optimal viewing times, but not for optimal listening times.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: This is true.

FRANK J. OTERI: And I thought that in a nutshell crystallizes our plight. Here in the West we’ve even made music visual by having notated scores, a lot of musical analysis is all for the eyes, whereas the ears are just as powerful a tool.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well, the ear is the primary sense organ. It’s the first organ to develop in the womb. The ear is fully completed by 4 1/2 months. So the fetus can hear in the womb. And it’s the last sense to shut down after death.

FRANK J. OTERI: Really?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yes. So you can still hear. There’s still hearing going on, listening going on.

FRANK J. OTERI: And in our society today there’s so much hearing loss, more than at any other time.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: This is very tragic.

FRANK J. OTERI: What can we as a society do to listen better? And more healthily as well.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well, don’t tune out. Every sound is a piece of intelligence no matter what.

10. Microtonality

Pauline Oliveros
Creating, Performing And Listening

FRANK J. OTERI: Now in the area of tuning, we really didn’t get to touch on that but I really want to because that’s an area that fascinates me no end, the more you listen, the more you realize that there are so many musical sounds beyond the equally-tempered scale. And you’ve done work for years using purely tuned intervals, just intonation.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: My accordion is tuned in just intonation and I like it, it’s important to me, but I’m interested in all kinds of tunings, not just that. Not just equal temperament. We don’t have to be stuck with one system. There’s an interesting group that I’m performing with called the Space Between, with accordion in just intonation, shakuhachi, and piano in equal temperament. So that’s three different tunings right there. So our performance together is really a negotiation on how to perform together and not have our differences in our tuning system collide in a way that we don’t like.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s poly-microtonality. Johnny Reinhard who runs the American Festival of Microtonal Music is a real advocate of poly-microtonal thinking. There’s a composer who’s almost totally forgotten about now Mordecai Sandberg who wrote for all these instruments in all these different tunings, and almost nothing has been recorded, there are scores here and there. But other societies have done this for centuries. In West Africa, you’ll hear ensembles where the koras are in one tuning, the balafons in another tuning, etc. and it works beautifully.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: The thing is that the tuning system is really only a reference. It’s something referred to but most music deviates from it.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well I guess this gets once again to this whole notion that the so-called developed societies needed to have things that were identically replicable in order to mass produce them. In Indonesia, every gamelan is tuned differently. If you listen to a piece played by one gamelan and then hear the same piece played by a different gamelan, the piece will always sound slightly different. There must have been a time in Europe when every orchestra sounded completely different.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: I’m sure.

FRANK J. OTERI: But they put a stop to that.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well, when you think about the standard, A = 440 – that decision that was made in England somewhere in the 19th century – that was a tremendously political act. It’s also a product of the industrial revolution. It was something that would make it possible to have standardization among musical instruments.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s like Greenwich Mean Time for music.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: But it’s truly construction.

11. Crone Music

FRANK J. OTERI: The last area that I want to about which sort of an extension of the hearing and listening thing, I have a favorite piece of your music. I absolutely adore Crone Music. I think it’s a phenomenal, phenomenal work. You created it to go with a production of King Lear, and it would be described as “incidental music,” but I think that term “incidental music” is somewhat pejorative. If we’re listening, nothing is incidental.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: That’s right. Actually in working with Lee [Breuer] on Lear, the idea was to have music that played all the way through so that there was always music throughout the whole thing, and that certainly is not incidental. It was a lot of fun.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s a wonderful, wonderful piece.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Did you see it?

FRANK J. OTERI: No, I only have a CD so I have this divorced experience. I’ve never heard it at a concert or in the theater, just in my home.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well, Crone Music can stand alone, so can Lear. (both laugh) But in this case, they wanted music as a constant, as a part of the set.

FRANK J. OTERI: It would be very interesting to see how it works with King Lear, and to hear how it works with King Lear.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: You know that they dropped all the royalty so they didn’t call it King Lear, just Lear, and the roles were gender reversed so Ruth Maleczech played Lear.

FRANK J. OTERI: Oh wow. And Cordelia then was male.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yes.

FRANK J. OTERI: What was the gender of the Fool?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Transsexual.

FRANK J. OTERI: You know there’s this cooky theory that Cordelia and the Fool were played by the same actor originally. They’re never on the stage at the same time. And the Fool is the only character who doesn’t abandon Lear, just as Cordelia remains true to him in her words…

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Maybe.

FRANK J. OTERI: Back then all the roles were played by men anyway…

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Right. Very interesting. Anyway, the Fool was played by Greg – I can’t remember his last name. Glouster was played by a black woman.

12. The Foundation and Some Upcoming Events

FRANK J. OTERI: Last question for you, any upcoming projects coming up.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: All kinds. Tomorrow night I get the Goldie Award.

FRANK J. OTERI: I plan to drop by.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Oh good.

FRANK J. OTERI: But maybe we should explain what it is.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: The Goldie is an award that is going to be presented to me by the San Francisco Bay Guardian. It’s their award. It’s for lifetime achievement and contribution to cultural life in the Bay Area.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s a wonderful acknowledgment.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: In December, there are two benefit concerts for the Pauline Oliveros Foundation at the Studio Valencia in San Francisco which features the Circle Trio which is another group that I play with, India Cook on violin, Karolyn van Putten on vocals and percussion, and we have a CD coming from Sparkling Beatnik.

FRANK J. OTERI: Is that the new label?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yes.

FRANK J. OTERI: What a great name!

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Anyway so that’s Studio Valencia, and Sisters of the Sound Continuum is going to perform with us, and Philip. And the next night, December 3rd, Terry Riley and his 2 sons are performing with Space Between, this is at St. John’s Church in Berkeley, a benefit for the foundation. So those are coming right up. And then the end of January, I go to the University of Wisconsin in Madison, the Arts Institute, I’ll be the Artist-In-Residence for the semester there, and have a new project which is called Io and Her and the Trouble with Him. The concept is by Ione, the concept and the story, and we’ll be collaborating on this production with Joanna Haigood who’s an aerial dancer, and putting it together and doing it on April 13 in the Union Theater. So that’s a big project that’s coming. It’ll probably be about an hour. And it will be the beginning of it – it will be developed further.

FRANK J. OTERI: And will it tour?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: We hope to do at other places, maybe we’ll do it here in San Francisco in 2002.

FRANK J. OTERI: You should say something about the Foundation.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yes, the Pauline Oliveros Foundation – this is based in Kingston, New York. You should come up visit there.

FRANK J. OTERI: I’d love to. When are you back there?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Well I’ll be back in mid-December, but then I’ll leave for Madison. But I’ll be back there in May. We have a very full schedule, I’ll give you the calendar, but you also can see the calendar on the Web. We have a building, and a gallery called Deep Listening Space, and a lot of different activities. I founded the Foundation in 1985 and it’s for the support of NY artists and for the creation of new work. So the building is a creative cultural center, we can have projects, we can have artists-in-residence and work on various things – there’s a production studio, and a gallery, and other things that are for developing, there will be a small theater for film and video, small ensembles and so on. But the idea is to support artists’ projects, but the way we work is by sponsorship of projects. This doesn’t mean we give grants, because we can’t. We’re too busy looking for money. But what we can do is provide a non-profit structure. So, for example, if you had a project, and you wanted to make a proposal, you could propose a project and as long as it’s resonant with our mission, and you’ve written a budget and it has a line in it for administration for the Foundation, then you could raise money for your project using the structure. I have a chapter in Kingston, here in the Bay Area and also in Houston, Texas. But it has an international reach.

FRANK J. OTERI: So you go back to Houston from time to time.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yeah, I’ll be going back for Thanksgiving, for example.

13. The Web

FRANK J. OTERI: The final area I’d like to talk with you about is the Web, and how composers and musicians an artists of all type can use this wonderful tool.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: It’s a fantastic tool, and I’ve been online since 1986.

FRANK J. OTERI: Wow.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: We had our Deep Listening catalog, mail-order catalog on the Internet before the World Wide Web.

FRANK J. OTERI: That’s great. Do you do most of your sales through the Web?

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yes. I also just used the Web site for the development of the Lunar Opera which was done at Lincoln Center on August 17. There were nearly 300 performers involved in that, and it was developed over time using the Web site to put out the score, the synopsis, the performing list and production, and I used an e-list to connect everyone. We even had a registration form for volunteers.

FRANK J. OTERI: And you found everybody on the Web.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yeah, and the project was coordinated all through the Web and e-lists. We had two days for a walk through, and then a performance, and everybody knew what to do, and it worked really well. I think it’s a new model for how to develop a project.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s definitely a way to get new music out there.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: Yeah. And we are planning and wanting to have Web cast from the Deep Listening Space in Kingston because it’s a small space, but you can have nice performances, intimate performances. We just had a wonderful one last week, the Mallik family from India, Dhrupad singing, this gorgeous singing – you never get to hear it – it’s a disappearing form because there are no more Maharaji‘s to support it. But this family is remarkable, they had a performance in New York and a performance in Kingston, so it would have been wonderful to have Web cast it.

FRANK J. OTERI: We’re going to start Web casting.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: And we will too. I’ve already been involved in many improvisations on the Web with people in remote locations. In fact the first distance thing I did was back in 1990.

FRANK J. OTERI: This brings us back to the whole McLuhan thing – this really is the global village.

PAULINE OLIVEROS: We have the tools – we can do really good things or we can do really stupid things.

FRANK J. OTERI: Let’s hope we continue to do most of the good things.