Showing posts with label deleuze. Show all posts
Showing posts with label deleuze. Show all posts

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Chen Yi: Design as Narration, Narrative as Totem

 Stone Totem, Sanya, Hainan, China
T    he quest for music that elevates the mind is an essential part of the mainstream of Chinese music. Over 8,000 years of the Chinese musical civilization, all types of influences have been experienced... These include the adoption and jettisoning—of various temperament systems, of a wide range of formal designs, and of wide ranges of acoustics. Global consumerism, however, is one influenc it had never encountered [before the 20th Century.”
  —  Sin-Yan Shen, Chinese Music in the 20th Century, p.189.
T    o my mind, the origin of music should not be sought in linguistic communication. Of course, the drum and song have long been carriers of linguistic meaning. But there is no convincing theory of music as language. The attempts that have been made in that direction are no more than camouflages for a kind of naturalism or the most mundane kind of pedantry. The musical message has no meaning, even if one artificially assigns a (necessarily rudimentary) signification to certain sounds, a move that is almost always associated with a hierarchical discourse.”
  —  Jacques Attali, Noise, p. 25.
I    t is true that I use compositional techniques from all of the cultures I have experienced and all the teachers I have learned from—Russian, French, German, Chinese, American. I do adapt Western classical techniques to express Chinese [sensibilities] and so on. ‘From the Path of Beauty’ does take Chinese folk songs as its primary material, but it [secondarily/indirectly] generates ideas that are universal. Music is, I think, a universal language.”
  —  Chen Yi, 17-JAN-2009, Friends of Chamber Music Concert.
I suppose that the main controversy has perennially been not whether music may evoke substantially the same emotions in all listeners/performers, but rather whether music can express propositions or specific questions or perform other representational linguistic functions that are associated with other textual or oral languages. In other words, the idea that musical gestures and harmonic colors and rhythmic textures can serve as signs and symbols that carry subjective emotional meaning is not tremendously controversial. But whether it can do more than this still is a source of disagreement.

 Chanticleer, photo (c) Lisa Kohler
 Shanghai Quartet in Red Volvo
T he performance at Friends of Chamber Music last night by Shanghai Quartet and Chanticleer, of Chen Yi’s ‘From the Path of Beauty’ for mixed ensemble was a good opportunity to revisit that topic. The performance was flawless, extraordinarily beautiful. The balance between the voices and the strings (who often were played with mutes on) was exceptionally good.

 Chen Yi
T he 7 movements of this piece include one a capella portion, one movement for string quartet alone, and the remaining 5 with the combined, mixed ensemble. The vocal parts have accompanying Chinese poems; however, the syllables did not signify anything to us who do not speak Chinese, and it was not clear whether the parts were wordless vocalizes or actual texts of poems.

  • The Bronze Taotie (Shang Dynasty, 1600 – 1100 BCE; choir)
  • The Dancing Ink (Tang Dynasty, 618 – 907 CE)
  • The Ancient Totems
  • The Rhymed Poems (Song Dynasty, 960 – 1279 CE; str qt)
  • The Clay Figurines (Han Dynasty, 206 BCE – 220 CE)
  • The Secluded Melody (Six Dynasties, 497 – 590 CE)
  • The Village Band
T he punctuation and textures of the vocal parts and the string parts closely resembled each other through much of the work—pizzicatos, glissandos, melismata, and so on. On account of this, the ‘discursive’ quality of the interaction between the voices and the instruments was even more prominent than it otherwise would have been.

T he third movement is entitle ‘Totems’, but, to me, the entire piece felt ‘totemic’, mantra-like, invocative, monumental. Totems, after all, are mnemonics—conveniences for social identification, invocation, and attachment. ‘From the Path of Beauty’ is like an elaborate ‘pole’ of totemic figures, stacked one after the other. There is no hierarchy; no particular ‘arc’ to the 7 movements—with the exception that the seventh and last one does feel like it is approaching a conclusion. The rest appear, one by one, in a sequence that seems like it is pretty malleable/flexible; each leaves its impression, conveys what it has to say, be it humorous or meditative or celebratory, and gives way to the next.

T he concept of mantra goes back to the pre-Vedic and early Buddhist traditions and to the primitive cults of magic, animism—and totemism. It has since been a continuing element one way or another in the religious traditions of the world and traces of it pervade to this day among the most modern of them. Practitioners of those believe that mantras have power over the deity and can make it confer the desired benefit. Is this piece, commissioned by Chanticleer, informed by a commission specification that aims at historical survey [of Chinese musical/poetical idioms], or is it instead Chen Yi’s invention as Chinese diaspora/teacher?

G urmantras, mantras imparted by gurus or teachers, are made meaningful by be whispered into the ear of the disciple by the guru. We disciples [in the audience; on the stage] repeat Chen Yi’s gurmantra … to achieve enlightenment.

T here are parts of ‘From the Path of Beauty’ that are luxuriant (esp. mvt. #6), but there are other parts that are arid, desolate, ascetic. In the Buddhist form of asceticism, there is no metaphysical dualism of God and the world, or of soul and the body. Phenomenal existence is viewed as characterized by suffering, impermanence and not-self. The aim of ascetic culture is to go beyond this sphere of conditioned phenomena. The keynote of the ascetic culture of Chen Yi is moderation; self-mortification is rejected altogether. Singers, string players, and audience members can simultaneously appreciate ascetic beauty and enjoyment.

T he community created in the space of the piece is not one of any essentialist definition of ‘chineseness’—taking Chen Yi’s introductory words about ‘universal language’ and assimilating compositional gestures from all over the world, I sense that this is as much an embodiment of diaspora culture as it is a celebration of Chinese music history.

S till, the practice of composing is presently something much more counter-cultural than other public acts, and the community created in Chen Yi’s composition is a quintessential exposition of cultural inversions, turning taboos into totems. Conspiratorial counter-tenors!

I t raises up the space of the ensemble to the realization of the China of the dream of racial and gender and class inclusion.

S yntactic music, notation-centric, rich with norms, expectations, surprises, tensions and resolutions, repetitions. Middleton (p.145ff) once wrote about this, as did Gilles Deleuze in Difference and Repetition (1994). Difference is the distance moved from a repeat and a repeat being the smallest difference. Difference is quantitative and qualitative — how far different and what type of difference.

C hen Yi’s movements are variations on classical form, revealing highly individual choices of tonal planning, melodic repetition, digression and reminiscence. Her techniques enable her to undertake compositional strategies quite different from the models of her contemporaries. Her construction is taut, and her subjects exhibit sharp polarities. A detailed account of digressions and reminiscences at different hierarchical levels in composing can be found in Lewin (1986).

S uch gestures of ‘poeticizing sound’ inflect the tonal design and expressive action of the songs—her primary folk song materials—and their repetitions. The ‘modus operandi’ of disjunct keys by side-slipping to a remote tonal area in the songs—the ambiguities of the modulations up a half-step; the choral dissonances—is not only replayed in the 7 movements of the suite, but is recontextualized within the paradigm of its overall form. It appears as a series of tonal digressions that delays the subsequent subjects on the large-scale. The tonal path shifts unexpectedly and repeatedly, via interrupted cadences, into other keys. The expressive effect is one of ‘remoteness’ and ‘out-of-timeness’—very apropos in view of the Dynasties theme. This is of course not unknown in Western canon—for example in Schubert.

T    he year the mercury drops to the bottom line.
How I miss that year—
My wool jacket at the pawnshop,
Doors and windows sealed tight by a snowstorm.
Thenceforth even good friends were like
Mercury, dropping
To zero.”
  —  Zhen Chouyu, Thinking of a Friend at Year’s End.



Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Weber: New Year’s Invitation to a Pensive Dance

Constance Keene
I  t was wonderful [just as you played it], but you should speed up at the end... [because doing so would make for— ] good ‘box-office’.”
  —  Vladimir Horowitz, responding to Keene’s query about the rationale for his suggestion concerning Keene’s interpretation of Rachmaninov’s Prelude in E flat minor.
Charm, wit, optimism, comedy, and grace are what music for celebrating the New Year needs. And, for some, maybe this means Blue Danube and other waltzes, polkas, galopps, quadrilles and marches, csárdáses, mazurkas—Eduard Strauss, Josef Strauss, Johann Strauss I, Johann Strauss II. Not my thing.

Renoir, Dance at Bougival
So, for a New Year’s get-together with friends, how about Weber’s Sonata No. 2—just the Menuetto and Rondo movements of it? It’s not an easy piece to carry off successfully—there is tremendous risk that self-conscious, mannered or inappropriate nuances could wreck it. But, overall, the movements of this Sonata have a range of qualities that make them interesting as encores—or as short ‘character pieces’ for an informal gathering.

Carl Maria von Weber
They’re sparkling and not necessarily virtuosic—and they have an impromptu, almost improvisatory sense to them. But, more than this, they are not oblivious to the reality that there are serious problems in the world.

In this respect they’re unlike Weber’s Aufforderung zum Tanz (Invitation to the Dance), which is too self-absorbed and coy. Aufforderung is about wooing. The suitor declares his passionate love for the woman, the couple exchange parting words, and then part ways. It is full of evasiveness, flirting, uncertainty, ambition. And, yes, it’s sometimes performed for New Year’s. But, by contrast, Sonata No.2 feels pensive—as though we are dancing while guardedly mindful of other, more important events.

A  rt perhaps begins with the animal—with the animal at least who carves a territory.”
  —  Gilles Deleuze, in What is Philosophy?, p. 183
Character pieces like this require projection—decent acting ability and a good sense for the part—maybe as much so as more serious pieces. Performing a character piece with the intention of trivializing it would be inappropriate—life is too short. In immersing myself in this Sonata over the past several weeks, I revisited some well-known recordings of it. I especially admire Contance Keene’s and Mariaclara Monetti von Slawik’s. I think of Keene’s performance of this Sonata as a biographical sketch of Weber. Every ‘person’ she mentions gets a quick, sharp, devastatingly exact sketch.

Carl Maria von Weber
And, in Keene’s hands, the Rondo is clearly ‘about’ the audience not the performer. Admittedly, mine is an aberrant notion of ‘biography’, embracing not merely the conventional conceit of a life in book form but also less formal forms that life stories now take in movies, plays, and on the Internet and in music. Is the purpose of biography to celebrate the lives of the famous and notable and to provide exemplars for the rest of us, or to reduce them to their mere humanity and to comfort us in the knowledge that the too are imperfect? Keene’s account of this Sonata is no hagiography—no worshipful biography of Weber as a saint. It’s a tale of Weber and his likely views of the society in which he lived.

May auld acquaintance be not forgot!

van Gogh, Dancehall
Carl Maria von Weber composed the No. 2 Sonata in A flat major at age 30, with a 30 year old’s aspirations. The Menuetto capriccioso is fast and enthusiastic, the Rondo is lyrical and full of aspiration. I wonder whether Pavel Haas, Hans Krása, Viktor Ullman, Gideon Klein, or others imprisoned at Terezin ever wrote quite this way. I doubt it.

A  fter the Holocaust there can be no Art... experiences [are] superficial and unworthy of expression.”
  —  Joseph Amato, Victims and Values, p. 183.
In a Nazi propaganda documentary film about Terezin, Haas takes a bow after the performance of his Study for Strings. The propaganda project concluded, and Haas was shipped off along with 18,000 other prisoners—to Auschwitz where he was murdered in the gas chamber on 17-OCT-1944.

Producing complex but beautiful music under duress was (and is) a defiant and meaningful thing, in context. Music is emancipatory and powerful—much in the way that Cy Twombly’s abstract paintings are powerful and historical and contextual. Music is a valuable response to these times—better than any propaganda. And character pieces are needed now because they can be a force for humanity and sensitivity, against the lies and violence of our time.

T  he traditions of avante-garde art must be seen as responding to an unwanted and intolerable burden of autonomy through gestures that seek to either collapse the distinction between the institution of art and the world outside or to directly bring the political and moral concerns of social life into the center of the work of art itself... Conversely, each attempt to establish the social meaningfulness of art has been met with an equally pointed artistic critique that seeks to demonstrate that the value of aesthetic objects cannot be derived from their moral and political content.”
  —  J. M. Bernstein, in Kemal & Gaskell, Politics & Aesthetics in the Arts, p.53
By learning ‘balance’ in the face of everything inside and outside, we develop a healthy detachment. This detachment isn’t escapism or indifference to the problems of the world. It is a sort of zen-like meditation. That’s what this Weber Sonata enables. That is why I think it makes an especially fitting New Year’s piece, to help us transcend the banal capitalistic world and give a wider vision of an ethics and politics that is inclusive of private spiritual and humanistic themes in each of us.

Carl Maria von Weber
Weber, Sonata No. 2, Op. 39, Menuetto, mm. 1 - 8

    [50-sec clip, Keene, Weber Sonata No. 2, Op. 39, Mvt. 3, Menuetto Capricciosa Presto Assai, 1.2MB MP3]

Constance Keene
Weber, Sonata No. 2, Op. 39, Rondo, mm. 1 - 9

    [50-sec clip, Keene, Weber Sonata No. 2, Op. 39, Mvt. 4, Rondo, 1.2MB MP3]

I  was flabbergasted by the fantastic color, sweep and imagination, and last but not least, by the incredible technique ... I cannot imagine anybody, including Rachmaninoff, playing the piano so beautifully.”
  —  Artur Rubinstein, remarking on Keene’s playing.


Muller, Garden of Eden in Hell