21 of 100: Beethoven and John Cage

On Sunday evening I went to another performance in the Carmel Bach Festival, this time, mainly, of Beethoven's Ninth Sympony (over an hour long) with its glorious "Ode to Joy." I wrote about the "Ode" a year ago, so don't have any more to say about it here. Except that I was glad to hear the entire symphony, with all its themes and vibrancy. And the fourth movement, which begins with the orchestra only—only to metamorphose into the joyous singing. One forgets that it has a bigger context.

But starting the program were a couple of very short pieces: Anton Bruckner's lovely motet Locus iste—

—and John Cage's 4'33", in three movements, for orchestra and chorus. The joke here being that the entire four-plus minutes are entirely silent. (So, no youtube video—though of course they do exist.) 

Or... not entirely silent: which was Cage's point. We humans make noise; the world makes noise; life makes noise. If we just give it some space, and then listen, we might be surprised. 

Here's from the other night's program notes:

John Cage offered these insights about the work and audience reception after the [1952] premiere [near Woodstock, New York]: "There's no such thing as silence. What they thought was silence, because they didn't know how to listen, was full of accidental sounds. You could hear the wind stirring outside during the first movement. During the second, raindrops began patterning the roof, and during the third the people themselves made all kinds of interesting sounds as they talked or walked out."

It begs the listener to "ponder the nature of silence, intentionality, listening, and performance." Critics have called it "the pivotal composition" of the 20th century. This enigmatic work still invites questions about music and the reimagining of art, remaining as controversial as when it was first performed.

I was especially amused by the growling stomach of the man sitting next to me, and by the music director, Grete Pedersen, turning the pages of her score with quiet deliberation. It was well worth experiencing.

P.S. A brief political statement: I feel like a load has been lifted off my head, my shoulders, my whole being, now that President Biden has exited the race. Seeing Kamala Harris at her Wisconsin rally today was heartening. She has a tough job ahead of her, and we will be seeing big ugliness and a lot of hate, but yes, I feel hope again. The "Ode to Joy" only underscored that feeling. And now, time to get to work.