33 Questions (2023)

I have collected some questions around a few themes. I don't know if they are really 33 questions. It doesn’t matter. The lecture is developed in 9 sections. All the different sections circulate around a fundamental and common question, which links them all, like a hidden thread, but which is never formulated directly.

1. 1958 John Cage

… the original text of the lecture continues; this short fragment is enough to evoque it.

It would be important, but it is impossible to recall the context — 1958 in Darmstadt — in which this lecture took place, and the impression of amazement and clear provocation that it aroused in the audience.

In any case, these questions are stupid. As a question, at best they can produce an equally stupid answer. Obviously, John Cage knows this perfectly. Here John Cage is not interested in asking in order to know.

These are not true questions; they are just verbal constructions. They have the obvious purpose of never creating an actual object of attention. No answer is expected from these questions, they are empty questions. And in fact, very consistently, a few years later in 1974, they will definitely become “Empty words”, the well-known text and vocal performance by John Cage.

A question can have very different forms. A true question generates an obstacle that requires understanding and constant attention. It limits a space and a field, marks a boundary, or defines a significant void. Certainly, it commits to the exercise or abandonment of a point of view. A true question invites to a vision.

A question always risks going unanswered or requiring a lifetime commitment. This is certainly the case with John Cage. The memory of his smile and his provocative lightness has been with us for years. Here, however, we voluntarily give up this smile.

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2. There are never any questions

Often, when a composer presents his work and even in a lecture with a specific theme, questions are rarely proposed, almost never true questions. If there are, they are typical rhetorical expedients, to introduce or articulate the topics of the chosen theme. In this sense, there are never any questions.

Some people, on the other hand, are committed to transforming a meeting or a lecture into an unpredictable dialogue between human beings. I have indelible memories of Iannis Xenakis, Gerard Grisey, Luigi Nono, for instance. There is a moment where an authentic question "comes up”, which shows that it has matured through practice and reflection, to have finally become a question after a long work, which is still evolving: this is the reason why it is left open, without a definitive answer. In those moments the context and the immediate professional purpose of that occasion vanishes.

A true question always emerges from an impersonal dimension, it is intended and addressed to common consideration, it concerns everyone and profoundly, regardless of whether it arises from specific issues.In an authentic question always speaks the personal pronoun we, and this form of spontaneous altruism is recognizable.

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For many composers, however, it seems more urgent and important to consider their work, that is, themselves and their professional status. Even when it seems that they are dealing with technical or more general issues, the real object is in any case their professional identity to be affirmed, recognized or defended. It is almost always a constructed image of themselves or of their work, presumed to be of interest to others. Obviously, in this kind of professional-intellectual dress code, there is hardly any room for an authentic question.

So, in these cases, when we take part as a listener, sometimes we risk to offer a simple chance for reality, to this academic mentality. It is up to us, both lecturer and audience, to be careful, to try to avoid simply playing a part, in an exhausted ritual.

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3. Considering a tree

In any field of existence, we deal with practices, procedures and knowledge that we do not possess and that we must learn. When this learning process is over, we access the possession of a specific technique or knowledge, and finally the use and transformation of things. In our relationship with things, we mostly look for solutions to problems and answers to questions, and the way to reach our goal.

We are rarely interested in considering the complexity of things, which instead is of a different nature, concerns relationships, often hides behind or within an apparent simplicity. This requires an active and creative engagement of all our abilities. Above all, it requires closeness, a direct and constant relationship, harmonization with things, grasping the hidden lines of the birth, growth, existence and connections of an entity, whether it is a thing or a human being, and obviously, do not be afraid to fall into error.

Let’s consider for example a tree. We generally ignore how it was born, how it is made, how it develops, etc. we also ignore the name. We see it every day and it becomes such a familiar element of our gaze, until it transforms into a simple and indifferent presence, indeed, until it disappears from attention. It seems very far from what we imagine and think of as complexity.

But when we begin to understand that a tree, regardless of our carelessness and our personal point of view, is the centre of balance, or the necessary point of reference and source of existence for a community of animals, for their reproduction, for their life, for our life, for other plants, and we with them, etc. in this moment we approach the perspective of complexity: any tree becomes an opportunity to understand aspects of life, which are in a game of relationships and mutual integration, and where we ourselves have a role. Generally, this understanding changes the "normal" relationship, that is, superficial or indifferent that we have with a tree. The same should happen with sound.

Our relationship with sound and music is actually very varied, it can be extremely technical and specific, often very intellectual, or genuinely emotional and passionate, or detached and indifferent, trivially pragmatic, etc. In short, all possible approaches. Yet, it never seems to reach an understanding.

Even more: our relationship with sound doesn't seem really interested in an understanding, but only in the exercise of a point of view, applied to a limited field, for simple immediate purposes. This certainly requires specific expertise, but do not imply any kind of reflection on the meaning of the relationship. Even if we could technically describe and explain all the operations we do, we are rarely fully aware of this relationship with sound.

If what I describe is real, what does it show and indicate?

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4. There is nothing left to discover

When one reflects on sound, especially in recent years, which are strongly regressive, the superficial and common belief that there is nothing left to discover, it is always present and current, like the jingles in advertising. Just as, the so-called new, and what is considered current, are defined above all by the bureaucratic mentality of the cultural operators of the festivals, or by the public strategies of cultural production. Everything would have already reached its limits and a definitive flat balance. Everything can stay and exist in the place that has been assigned to it,
... like the Native Americans on the reservations ...
The privilege of discovery belongs exclusively to the technological advancement of professional disciplines. The individual changes and deviations that may appear, but which are not organic to the system in place, i.e., to the dominant mentality, are inevitably considered peripheral, therefore without consequences, and ultimately, irrelevant.

In this perspective, by individual freedom we simply mean the originality and/or particularity of one's work, but only that standardized and gratified by public recognition. We operate within what already exists, and obviously it is better to operate within the comfortable and reassuring space of tradition or within the ideology of dominant institutions.

So, how to say? Stockhausen in 1972 was wrong. Sound is sound, and it always will be, everyone just … sings his song.

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Instead, the entire evolution of written music and oral tradition bears witness many different ways to approach and experience sound, changes of conception that change the meaning and relationship with sound.

It is an evolution that is neither linear, nor unique, nor definitive, because it moves jointly with the evolution of spiritual and material culture, which is, by definition, centrifugal and open. It is enough to consider only the works written in the last 100 years, or music extraneous or outside the official culture, or those belonging to other cultures (both ancient and current), to ascertain that the term sound, names a plural and never definitive reality.

The belief that there is nothing left to discover, simply means that one has already found one’s own effective way of being, in the reality that surrounds us, using it exactly as it is, and for what it is. Like a landscape in which we move, and which must remain identical to itself, otherwise we lose our reference points. So, everything can and must remain as it is.

But what does it mean to discover? Discovering does not mean creating a new reality, it means bringing to light what already belongs to reality but remains hidden, unseen, still without access, therefore, something whose existence, we do not yet fully perceive, even if we are in contact and we obscurely feel its presence and closeness. Something is part of the landscape, but we can't distinguish and define it, until we discover it.

Discovering means being able to see and understand relationships in reality, which change the way of thinking about reality itself, even if they initially seem paradoxical or are apparently inconceivable. And from here, try to make this difference visible to others as well, and make this understanding a common good.

Let us recall only a few examples from other disciplines.

Niels Bohr, the Danish physicist, who made at the beginning of the XX century foundational contributions to understanding atomic structure and quantum theory, opening completely new theoretical perspectives.

Edwin Hubble, the American astronomer, who in 1929 could definitively demonstrate that the universe is expanding, by introducing a revolutionary concept: the space itself is in constant expansion.

Of course, the field of music is not directly comparable to physics or astronomy. Nonetheless there are experiences that have begun to change the Western conception of sound, and which therefore indicate that in Western sensibility and culture, the way of approaching and thinking about sound was already undergoing profound change.

Let's think, for example, of musical experiences now distant in time such as those of Anton Webern in the Bagatelle Op. 9, 1913, shows that sound is a body and changes states. The hierarchy and traditional distinction between sound and sound timbre can be overcome.

Maurice Ravel or Igor Stravinsky still working inside a traditional sound conception, in the early twentieth century, create particular states of sound that no longer have anything to do, with the principles of the tempered system, pitch, rhythms, melody, and harmony. Sound can now also be thought of, as energy and matter.

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It is remarkable to note that, precisely in those who believe and say that there is nothing left to discover, we observe an uninterrupted activism, fuelled by a constant and inextinguishable need for something new, exactly as in certain eating disorders or in strategies production of commercial products. As if what happens and already exists, never has the consistency to last. This so-called new is therefore of a particular kind: it lasts exactly its short span of appearance. It has to be replaced, because it was already born as a new replaceable. Like any new iPhone model. A discovery, on the other hand, is something very rare and difficult, which matures slowly. When it happens, it introduces a change of perspective, it is a void that opens up, in past knowledge, it is a seed of the future that forces us to reconsider the present.

Sometimes, in our professional field, it seems that the spiritual landscape in which the characters of S. Beckett's Waiting for Godot move, … has materialized.

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5. Relationship with a device

We all experience it, as the creative access to sound is today made possible and at the same time dependent on devices of a different kind, which play a decisive role in every phase of our work. Especially advanced digital technology promises, somehow, direct access to new and unlimited possibilities, in every field. We consider a device often superficially, as a simple and effective extension of the body, as an extension of the capabilities of the hand or the eyes, because we still think of it as a simple primitive tool. In this case, however, it is different. There are good reasons to think that it is man himself, who has become an extension of the device. Interaction with a device it is possible only if I am ready and able to interact with the same logic, at the same level and within the same operating limits. This means: if I modify and harmonize my sensitivity and open creativity, according to the logic and functioning of the device. However, this logic is not neutral. It decides what, how and within what limits, it is possible to think. It decides what is the horizon of the relationships that I can elaborate.

Therefore, strictly speaking, I have the illusion of operating in a field without limits and full of future, instead, I work permanently in a pre-figured and pre-oriented creativity of the second rank. A second relevant aspect is that, once the principles of the logic of representation and functioning of the device have been internalized, there is no turning back, so to speak.

That is, with or without device, this will be the way in which I approach things, I place them in a horizon of attention, I represent them, I imagine their relationships and developments, etc.

The operational effectiveness of the new devices is so convincing, that it seems useless and inappropriate to ask questions about their meaning. Any critical consideration is marginalized in the periphery of incompetence or the old-fashioned nostalgia for the time of pencil and eraser.

But, in a creative field like composition, things are a bit different and more complex. The time comes for everyone, when man no longer recognizes himself in the role of extension of a device. And then the question becomes a necessity that cannot be postponed. There are creative issues and fields, that lie before or outside an operational logic, which depends on a device. Questions that a device can never possess the keys to, or incorporate into its logic.

If I want to question my very relationship with a device, it deals with a fundamental question of freedom. I must first theoretically understand the meaning of existence and the degree influence of the device in my work, and then be able to found and build my independence. This requires a free point of view, extraneous and free from any operational and functioning logic. I need to be able to consciously reconsider this link and make room for thinking, of an entirely different kind.

Where shall I seek and where will I find the foundation of this freedom? How will I develop it?

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6. String quartet no. 1 by Morton Feldman

A few years ago, the Arditti String Quartet performed the String quartet No. 1 by Morton Feldman, a work of 1979, that lasts about 80 minutes. It is a very demanding work, both for the performers and for the audience. The difficulty of listening live to this work does not directly depend on its extended duration, but on the intensity, constancy and flexibility of attention required, in relation to this duration. This music has an indecipherable development. It leads the attention in a labyrinth. It is a difficult and demanding path, and it is inevitable in many moments to lose touch with the evolution of sound. It requires a constant active effort of attention and availability. If this happens, then this music has the power of an initiation into an unknown rhythmic dimension, which creates a space in the listener that settles and remains open. At least that's my experience, which is still alive after all these years.

When, at the end of the piece, the performers slowly released the tension of their position, there were about two minutes of silence, that is, all the time necessary for this music to stop resounding in each of those present, both the performers and the listeners. Only then, and very slowly, did a very long applause of thanks for the interpreters begin.

In that contest, such a spontaneous long silence was unpredictable. What does this silence mean?

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7. The new Paradigm

Remarks

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8. The empty space in which the voice appears

In the 60s and 80s the development and experimentation in the vocal field had a great impulse, due on the one hand, to the adventurous and visionary curiosity of many composers, to the exceptional ability and interest of some soloists and to the development of a new notation, on the other hand, to the possibilities offered by recording and diffusion techniques, and by electronic devices. Despite this explosion of creativity in many different directions, evidenced by works that should be an acquired and shared heritage of knowledge, in recent years there has been a constant regression, as if those open and visionary experiences have already been forgotten.

Vocality has returned to being a rather limited field, still full of conventions and limits, derived from the past but always current, completely filtered and conditioned by the traditional and scholastic culture of the voice, influenced by the technical and cultural prison of typical vocal roles, by a certain ignorance and insensitivity of singers, by the needs and limits of conventional notation, by the clichés of composers considered successful.

This fact is even more evident when compared to the free expansion of the voice in unwritten music, experimental vocality and experimental theatrical vocality. For a composer, apparently, the individual creative space would consist in working inside and within the limits of the field of contemporary written vocal music, obviously finding his own personal and original way of expression, that shows some aspect of actuality and modernity. Therefore, being able to do what pleases and interests, within what is considered professionally possible and convenient. This is what usually happens, and it is considered obvious, especially when working for festivals, big traditional institutions and recognized performers. From a professional point of view, this prospect seems to make sense or at least realistic. But… there are more important things.

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A voice is not a violin or a trumpet or a drum or an electronic device, a musical instrument that can be listened to, with detachment. The voice is not just any musical practice. The voice concerns the human being directly, always and in every case. Every human being is also a voice. Every human being can enter the voice, and take part in it.

It makes sense to think that my voice, what I consider a clear sign of my identity and my uniqueness as a human being, appears in me, but fundamentally it does not belong exclusively to me. In every single individual voice, rest the traces of thousands of forgotten or ignored voices. Every human being is the open place where the voice in general and singing can appear.

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Let us consider a first fundamental point. The voice has the possibility of creating a momentary communion between two human beings in the most direct way possible, because a voice, which is born in the body, resonates and vibrates directly in another body, which is the space of another voice. Through the voice, two bodies approach and unify, they become two poles of the same entity.

In the case of the voice, the listener loses his role, defined by usual practice and culture. I am the possible space of a voice, mine. When I speak or sing, the vibration resonates in me and at the same time I hear myself. When I hear another voice, I vibrate like a space, within which resonates what another voice is doing here and now (in the same space as my voice).

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When the voice is considered only as a field of technical or expressive possibilities, in this case it is reduced to being only a cultural object, or, more simply, a musical object and that's it.

Instead, let's try to consider the voice differently. The voice is what resonates in an empty body. The empty body, even before being the space for a voice, it has its own silent, full and complete life, and an intelligence that precedes any culture.

Let us freely consider this silent emptiness of the body. The voice, considered in the broadest possible sense, would have the possibility to withdraw slowly and consciously into the silent emptiness of the body, momentarily dissolving or leaving on the sidelines both its link with musical culture and its link with material culture. The Voice, withdrawing towards its silent centre, could empty itself and renounce its cultural identity, and thus prepare itself for a possible new beginning.

However, this empty centre is not a starting condition but only a possible and unknown point of arrival, consciously sought, which therefore does not yet exist and is not immediately reachable.

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When we composers of written music approach the voice today, we find ourselves in front of an enclosed space, which is completely full and saturated, but surrounded by a desert.

If this is the situation, how are we to imagine, a process of slow and conscious withdrawal of the voice into the silent emptiness of the body? It is a long process of study, practice, knowledge and awareness that anyone can do. It is a task that one freely assigns oneself, and for which there are no methods and tutorials.

Let's try to imagine it very simply. It's about knowing, understanding, and literally trying to practice and become "all the voices of the world," so to speak. First of all, we need to experiment and understand the limits and conditionings that don't allow us this experience, and to work to overcome them. And every time, at the end of this experience, we drop the limits, and leave aside what we have known. So, it is a process of preliminary knowledge, that has the purpose of being able to empty ourselves of the knowledge itself. Until a particular zero degree is reached.

These two central aspects

From here, we could reconsider what a voice is for us, what we currently think and do, and above all, we could rather consider what a *Voice could be.

Obviously, this is a risky and dangerous experience, certainly on an individual level, and in any case, the immediate possibility of operating in a professional field, as rigid and conventional as our current one, could be lost.

Question: What does it mean freedom, for a composer?

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9. Luigi Nono, about music.

Luigi Nono's entire compositional work is an open question. Often forgotten or ignored are, his will and his discipline in refocusing the works through profound revisions and successive refinements (think of the different versions of Prometheus or Risonanze erranti), as well as his constant interest in focusing, in each new performance, different aspects of a work. According to this approach, a musical text is not an object closed in on itself but is only provisionally definitive, it remains open and it is always possible to reach a higher degree of depth.

The following 3 statements from Luigi Nono’s text Altre possibilitá di ascolto (Other listening possibilities) 1985 are also part of this approach to composition.