Thursday, May 1, 2008

Alvin Lucier - I Am Sitting in A Room

Entry 2

The second piece I listened to was Alvin Lucier's I Am Sitting In A Room. This piece is very unique in its way of combining elements electronic music, avant-garde experimentalism, and minimalism. The source material consists of four sentences of text spoken and recorded by the composer. This paragraph is then replayed into the room and re-recorded. This new recording is replayed and re-recorded, and this cycle continues for forty-five minutes. As the recording is replayed into the same room, certain resonant frequencies in the room are reinforced, and with each successive playing, the voice becomes more and more distorted, and masked by these frequencies. Less than twenty minutes into the piece, Lucier's voice is unrecognizable, replaced by a pulsating wave of static frequencies. These pulses smooth out as the piece progresses, and a constant drone begins to emerge and grow stronger. The piece ends when all that is left is a steady constant drone. We are now hearing the sound of the room itself vibrating.

The idea of recording live sounds to hear again was almost unheard of to people in the late 1800s, in the twentieth century, Sound recording technology developed at a rapid pace. By 1970, when this piece was composed, recorded sound was a part of everyday life. Composers like Pierre Schaefer and Karlheinz Stockhausen had been creating music from recorded sounds since the 1940s, and the rock'n'roll musicians like the Beatles and Brian Wilson had opened new doors for studio production in the mid-60s. Lucier used this new medium to create a definitive version of his piece that people could hear without having to go to a concert hall. Technologically, the piece is not very cutting edge or adventurous; the sounds are not processed through any kind of modulation or filtering. All of the changes in the sound occurs through natural reinforcement of resonant frequencies. Compared to John Oswald's Plunderphonics, this world is strikingly simple.

This simplicity shows how Lucier might have been influenced by the emerging trend of minimalism in America. This movement was started by a group of composers in Downtown New York City that included Philip Glass, Terry Riley, and Steve Reich. Their music was drastically different from the prevailing trends in classical music prior the late 60s. Their aesthetic featured a great deal of repetition, long stretches of static harmony, slow development often driven by a mathematical process, and a steady, often driving pulse. The influence of this style can be seen clearly in I Am Sitting In A Room. It features massive repetition, drones, and process driven development, but it does not have the constant, regular rhythm. The effect of this irregular stasis created a sense of being in a hypnotic daze in me. This trance-like state is often found in the music of Eastern Asia, but it was something totally revolutionary in Western Art music. Therefore, this music must be listened to in a different way than traditional classical music. In this way, minimalism literally turned classical music on its ear.

Unlike Plunderphonics, I Am Sitting In A Room can be performed live with just one performer and a recording/playback device. The piece would sound quite different in a different performance space, as every room has a different set of resonant frequencies. The difference can be enhanced even further because Lucier says that any text may be use for the piece. Differences in the size and shape of the room would cause if to develop at a different rate with different frequencies emerging and sustaining. A different text would create its own unique rhythmic pulse and set of overtones. This type of indeterminacy shows a clear link between Lucier and iconoclastic composer John Cage. Performing this work can be an interesting experiment, but is it worth the amount of time that must dedicated to such a project?

This work is experimental in its truest form. The composer has set up a set of parameters that are adhered to inflexibly. He may have an idea of what will happen, but he has no direct control over the final sonic output of his system. This type of work takes a great deal of commitment on the composer because must give up his creative control once the process has begun. This is radically different outlook from composers of previous generations, who were traditionally very protective of the sounds they create, and it shows the immense influence of Cage. This type of music also takes a great deal of commitment on the part of the listener. Listening to this piece, I was so tempted to fast forward to the end to hear the final result. Forty-five minutes is a very long time to listen to slowly emerging drones. This ultra-slow development is common characteristic of minimalism, but I personally find the aesthetic boring. I do not think I ever need to listen to this piece again. Like any good experiment, I learned something about nature and sound transformation, but thanks to Lucier's experimentation, I know longer need to do it myself. I feel like I could have gotten just as much information from a condensed seven minute version of the piece. I am more interested in the final product of the sound than the form of the process, but minimalists would disagree with my viewpoint.

This piece exposes the listener to an amazing scientific wonder of our natural world, but repeated listening does not reveal any new knowledge. The educational value of this piece can be retained almost immediately. Because of this lack of repeatability, the piece does not belong in the Classical Canon. It is interesting, serious, and worthwhile work of art, but it is not a pinnacle of the compositional craft.

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