Cage Fright
by Eric Rockwell
“As far as consistency of thought goes, I prefer inconsistency.”
-John Cage
The young valedictorian of Los Angeles High School dreamed of achieving something big in the music world. Unfortunately in his subsequent studies in music, he found he had no talent. Yet he was determined to succeed in spite of that fact. If talent in music meant the understanding of harmony and an ear for melody, he would simply bypass them and write music without either. His name was John Cage, a composer who inexplicably rates more content in Grout’s History of Western Music than Rachmaninoff and Mascagni combined.
In 1952, after viewing the all-white paintings of Robert Rauschenberg, John Cage felt he had been given permission to compose his most famous piece. The debut of this was played by pianist David Tudor, and consisted of the pianist entering the stage, seating himself at the piano, and proceeding to play nothing for four minutes and thirty-three seconds. The pianist literally doesn’t play a single note. The piece is entitled 4’33” and is the work that John Cage has said is his personal favorite.
When at a public event, a moment of silence is requested, is it possible that is a copyright infringement? After all, the Cage masterpiece is exactly that. Anytime that silence is requested, be it in a library or a church, perhaps John Cage should be due some sort of royalty.
“My work became an exploration of non-intention.”
-John Cage
John Cage is removing intent from his music, and asking us to join him in his world of musical indeterminacy.
His preference for inconsistency is immediately apparent; his intention is an exploration of non-intention. A blatant contradiction, but one the likes of John Cage revels in. Intention is, after all, imperative in art. Removing intention allows for any accident to be deemed a work of art. And thus begins the destruction of the entire concept of art, simply by making anything eligible as a referent.
Why is 4’33” considered a work of Art? Advocates of such innovation will point to the fact that much heated discussion is generated by the performance of the piece, and that therefore, the work of art is shown to be valid. This, of course, is ridiculous, as many things can provoke a debate that we would not consider art. A prominent politician can be caught cheating on his wife and spark a national debate about marital fidelity; this does not indicate that the politician’s action is artistic, or that the journalist exposing the scandal is an artist.
Along the same lines, it is asserted that this is clearly a powerful work of art, in that audiences have strong reactions to the piece, both positive and negative. Like the prior example, this does not indicate that anything artistic has occurred. After all, if I stepped in a pile of dog excrement I would definitely have a strong reaction, but that does not prove that the dog is an artist or that his feces are a powerful work of art. Just because something elicits a reaction or a discussion obviously doesn’t mean that it’s art except to counterfeit artists like Cage.
Then they will point to the fact that the “silent” piece was very difficult for Cage to write. He states it took him five years of work, and this is said without irony. Like the other claims, this one is ridiculous; for just because something was difficult for the person involved to “create,” it does not follow that the “creation” is a work of art. My accountant works very hard every year preparing my IRS forms; yet my return is far from a work of art, and my accountant, while a good one, is not an artist.
But there is a way to stage a productive protest to all this nonsense. Cage’s intention-which-is-not-an-intention is for the audience to become aware of the noises which they would usually disregard. An occasional cough or sneeze in the concert hall, perhaps, or someone un-wrapping a breath mint. These sounds are John Cage’s music. But there need not be four and a half minutes of shuffling. Any true music-lover who realizes that John Cage is a fraud can come to the concert hall prepared with a boom box. When the Cage “piece” begins, the protester presses “play,” turns up the volume and treats the audience to, perhaps, a good performance of Chopin’s Nocturne in G minor. This way, John Cage is having his “indeterminacy” while the audience gets music. It’s a win-win situation.
Cage’s 4’33” ?
It’s not art.
It’s not music.
But Cage is right; it’s his best work.
For the best thing that Cage did in his lifetime was to remain silent.
Discuss this Article (25 messages)
|
