On Revolutionary Consciousness

Let's imagine the most typical negative reaction to a new composition of composer X (a well-known composer): "I don't see anything new here. He repeats himself over and over again"; and composer Y (a young composer): "I don't see anything new here, I don't feel his individual style. I hear the influence of composer X, but Mr.X was a pioneer of this style 30 years ago, and now we'd like to hear something totally new." Here is the result of the 150-year-long period of revolutions and Individual Styles. The main purpose of composer is to do something that has never been done before by anyone and to be always "new". Each composition must be based on new invention; next composition - next invention. The main task of musicologists and critics is to analyze these inventions and to decide whether a given composition contains anything principally new (hence it is good) or not (then it is bad). The more complex the better, the less resemblance with anything written before the better.This approach turns nearly all serious new music into "music for musicologists". The highest word of praise for this type of music is: "It is very interesting!" (should be pronounced with very serious expression on your face). I believe that it is really very interesting to analyze it, to draw schemes and tables, and that the feeling of professional understanding is very important. But I'm not a musicologist, I'm a listener, and music is not a sonic demonstration of science.

Fortunately, there is another type of music - music for listening (here I'd certainly name the three great minimalists - Terry Riley, Steve Reich and Philip Glass; I'd name Morton Feldman; I'd not like to mention John Cage here because he is beyond everything). Thirty years ago the first minimalist compositions (like Riley's In C ) looked like revolutionary inventions. But it was the last revolution which canceled all the decrees of all previous revolutions and announced: Avant-garde is over! You are trying not to resemble each other in your complexity, but any spontaneous improvisation will sound exactly like "scientifically calculated" serialist composition. This is a dead end. You better try to listen to a single note, or a perfect fifth, or a sequence of simple patterns for as long as you can. And you'll feel that music is a part of the endless stream of time. It's impossible to go against it; such attempts will always be unnatural and useless.This "last revolution" brought music back to its natural state. The word "minimalism" is awful, but I'm afraid we'll have to put up with it. Musicologists apply this term exclusively to the music of the three above-mentioned composers, but the music reality of the last 30 years proves that minimalism is not limited to these three names; it is much more than one of the trends in contemporary music; it is much more than urbanistic music of post-industrial society; it is not an invention of the mid-sixties which is still alive for unknown reason. Minimalism (please don't pay attention to this word) is something like a huge tree the roots of which are deep in the nature of all universal processes. "Monotony is a law of nature: look at the monotonous manner in which the Sun rises" (Gandhi). Ancient rituals and folk music of any region of the world, church bells and church singing, music of all composers from Perotin to Bach, - everything is minimalism in the wide sense of the word. No conflicts, no dramatic climaxes, no struggle. Nothing is absolutely tragic, nothing is absolutely joyful. Everything is joyful and tragic at the same time. Any piece, any measure, any single note is a mirror which reflects all the universe and all the human emotions. Everything exists in constant inseparable unity. Everything follows the stream of time. And one more important detail concerning composers' approach to writing music: no desire to develop an individual style. Try to take, for example, a slow movement from any Concerto by Vivaldi and insert it between the 1st and the 3rd movement of any Concerto by, say, Corelli. Nobody will ever notice. All composers were doing "the same" not being afraid to be accused of "stealing someone else's idea" or "using someone else's structures". Bach's music contains nothing new in comparison with music of any other composer of his time. The difference lies much deeper than on the level of formal distinctions.Bach was the last branch of this "tree". Haydn and Mozart were the bridge to the first revolution. And then he came - the first avant-garde composer, the master of conflict, the Lenin of music - his name was Beethoven. He said: This is black, and this is white. This is Evil, and this is Good. Music is struggle (and the sonata form based on "struggle philosophy" seemed to be waiting for his order to illustrate his ideology). He succeeded in everything. His "aggressive humanism" turned out to be much more understandable than, for example, Bach's esoterism. Listening to his music was as easy and interesting as reading a detective novel or watching a movie with Arnold Schwarzenegger. This music had its "inner clock" counting out its special "musical time". Why listen to the "astronomical" time? It is so slow and boring! I am a Composer, so I can change everything according to my will!Beethoven made the first decisive and "successful" step away from the "tree". Romanticism was the next step. More self-expression. "Private emotions" instead of "music for millions".The 20th Century brings new revolutions. More and more individual and collective "declarations of independence". New techniques, new inventions. Technique quickly becomes the main goal. The listeners try to retune their ears and get into the new situation. After the complete failure to do that they go to a klavierabend with romantic program. New music continues to move in the same "musicological" direction; composers go on enjoying their achievements. Perhaps the only thing that all composers have in common - the "conflict-based" emotions as a guaranteed "hook" to catch listener's attention. But even this stereotype doesn't work: music gradually gets to the point where it becomes unlistenable. Nobody cares; musicologists are always happy to have new material for their researches. Listening is not really necessary.The voice of the minimalists was so powerful that it was impossible not to hear it. Many "scientific" composers and critics simply didn't want to notice it. They are still trying to hope that minimalism will die very soon, and that the new generation will continue to compose new "serious" music. But it is not going to die. The ancient "tree" which had been sleeping for 150 years is alive and well again, it is very strong and full of forces. Thirty years ago new green branches appeared on this tree. Every "spring" brings new branches. All of them have common roots, and every time it becomes more and more difficult to find a definition for music which is being composed today - whether it is a "post-minimalism with elements of folk and rock music" or it is a "new world music based on minimalist structures" or it is a mixture of "post-something and new-something-else". All such labels (as well as "in-search-of-something-totally-new" approach) are gradually and unavoidably turning into the museum objects for the Museum of Our Revolutionary Past. Instead, we have one common music which crosses all the borders between centuries and continents, genres and traditions, new and old. Within this world the music of church bells becomes the pulse of big city, rock patterns sound exactly like authentic folk songs, music written eight centuries ago turns out to be absolutely new; we can place ourselves into the past and discover that the 12th Century is a part of Today. The process of "eternal return" (Nietzsche) goes on. Nothing is new; sounds are very old, much older than any human invention. Every note connects us with our history; every note begins a new being.

P.S. I said nothing about John Cage. Usually he is considered to be something like "the most avant-garde composer of the century". No, he is not. He is a Teacher, a Zen Master, and his 4' 33" as well as all his activity is not a revolution but a "clap of one hand", the answer to the famous Zen question. Cage (his music, his philosophy, the very fact of his existence) is a silent turning point; everything after this point is "life after Cage", and anyone who is able to hear, to see, to feel, must learn something from him.P.P.S. I'm in no case saying that I see no good music between Bach and minimalism, or that it was "mistaken" music. History makes no mistakes. This period is full of great masterpieces. I really love dozens (even hundreds) of compositions written during this period of time. I only want to say that this period with its traditions, revolutions and its scale of values is just a small island in the ocean of... I was about to say "minimalism". Please forget this word. You know what I mean.

1996-06-21, Anton BATAGOV