Music is calligraphy using sounds

Composing is perhaps something one does in order to deepen the intensity of silence rather than the intensity of sounds

Music is calligraphy using sounds, which are painted on the canvas of silence.

That Zen wisdom comes from Toshio Hosokawa who is seen above. Both quotes appear in the notes for the highly recommended new recording on Wergo of Hosokawa'a String Quartets by the Arditti Quartet, a CD which resonate almost inaudibly with my current meme of the ragged edge of silence.

Also on Facebook and Twitter. No review samples used in this post. Any copyrighted material is included as "fair use", for the purpose of study, review or critical analysis only, and will be removed at the request of copyright owner(s).

New music that was saved by Nelson Mandela

My new Symphony - for that is what it eventually turned out to be - would serve as a memorial to the victims of the [Sharpeville massacre] in which eighty-three people were shot dead by the police while taking part in a peaceful demonstration against the notorious Pass Laws, the hated symbol of black subjection to white supremacy. I was also influenced by the example of Shostakovich's own memorial to the victims of political oppression in the shape of his Eleventh Symphony, which so movingly commemorates the dead of the 1905 Revolution in which another peaceful demonstration was turned into a massacre. But where Shostakovich uses Russian political songs as symphonic material, I resolved to make use of three African melodies to give my work a similar sense of urgency and immediacy of purpose.

That is John Joubert writing in the notes for the Dutton recording of his Second Symphony, which, as related here, made an unexpected appearance in the classical charts shortly after its release in 2011. Born in Cape Town a white South African, Joubert moved to England in 1946 and still lives there. His Second Symphony was given its premiere in London in 1971 with Joubert conducting the London Philharmonic Orchestra and was immediately banned in South Africa by the government controlled South African Broadcasting Corporation (SABC). The ban was only lifted following the intervention in the mid-1990s of Nelson Mandela, who was a fan of Western classical music.

Do not be misled by the composer's reference to African melodies. This is not a cosy folksy work, rather it is a gritty and angry statement that proudly displays its debt to Shostakovich and Walton. Conductor Martin Yates and the underrated Royal Scottish National Orchestra are passionate advocates of Joubert's music and the coupling includes a little known gem in the form of Carlo Martelli's Fourth Symphony. And on a disc where the planets well and truly align, the Dutton production team use the acoustic of the Henry Wood Hall in Glasgow to prove that for some the sound does still matter.


Elsewhere in his note John Joubert, seen above, explains that inspiration for the Second Symphony came from Alan Paton's Cry the Beloved Country. This novel, which was written shortly before apartheid was implemented in South Africa, is a protest against the attitudes that institutionalised racism. Cry the Beloved Country was banned by South Africa's press censors due to its subject matter; it was first published in America in 1948 and went on to sell 15 million copies before Paton's death in 1988. An Overgrown Path reader has lamented the disappearance of musicians with a conscience. In fact they are still around. But, just as with other activists, you need to look outside the commercial intermediary complex to find them. Take a bow John Joubert, Dutton and all those involved in this brave and inspiring CD.


* This is an edited version of a post first published in July 2011. John Joubert's website is here.

Dutton Epoch CD of John Joubert's Second Symphony was supplied as a requested review sample. Composer portrait above is (c) Graham Boulton. Any copyrighted material on these pages is included as "fair use", for the purpose of study, review or critical analysis only, and will be removed at the request of copyright owner(s). Report broken links, missing images and errors to - overgrownpath at hotmail dot co dot uk Also on Facebook and Twitter.

Imagine there is no new audience for classical music

Student: What happens when we die?
Zen master: I don't know.
Student: But you're a Zen master.
Zen master: True. Quite true. But I am not a dead Zen master.

That is John Cage in the header photo with Zen master D.T. Suzuki and classical music can learn a lot from Zen thinking. Imagine for a moment there is no monolithic / young / hip / rock loving / vibrant / technically literate / affluent 'new' audience for classical music. Similarly imagine there is no monolithic / conservative / elitist / moribund / white / luddite / reactionary / disposable 'old' audience. Instead imagine the audience for classical music is like a cloud: made up of millions of unique particles, each with a different age, behaviour pattern and tastes. Now imagine this granular cloud is constantly changing and reforming in accord with the Zen teaching of impermanence. Imagine there is no one-size-fits-all music and no one-size-fits-all style of concert presentation. Imagine the concepts of 'old' and 'new' audiences are illusory and the only absolute reality is the music itself. Now imagine enlightenment in the form of a development strategy for classical that replaces the myth of monolithic 'new' and 'old' audiences with the truth of a granular, diverse, discerning, and constantly changing and evolving audience. Then imagine classical music making some progress...

Apocryphal header quote comes via Huston Smith's Tales of Wonder: Chasing the Divine. Any copyrighted material on these pages is included as "fair use", for the purpose of study, review or critical analysis only, and will be removed at the request of copyright owner(s). Also on Facebook and Twitter.

Parsifal as pure religion itself - Islam

'There is, I believe, an important link between early Christianity and Sufism. When I read of the Desert Fathers and when I meet Sufis they seem to occupy much of the same position. The Sufis are, of course, a bit outside the mainstream of Islam. The one thing that particularly interests me is the image of the holy fool who, although no longer a stock figure in Christianity, is still important in Sufism. I am wondering to what degree Sufism might have been drawn from early Christianity.

That passage from Marius Kociejowski's The Street Philosopher and the Holy Fool resonates with my 2012 post which asked Was Wagner a Sufi? But it resonates even more strongly with the provocative view of the radical Muslim teacher and author Ian Dallas (aka Abdalqadir as-Sufi) that in the final act of Parsifal the white dove which descends and hovers over Parsifal - the holy fool - is...

"a symbol of peace which in Arabic bears the same root 'S-L-M' as pure religion itself, Islam... And so, the Grail was nothing other than the Black Stone of the Ka'aba, the central shrine of the world's last religion, purified judaeo-christianity, Islam.

My header image shows the first act of the new Royal Opera House production of Parsifal and below is the image of the Ka'aba that I used in my July 2013 post about Ian Dallas' contentious Islamic interpretation of Wagner. Predictably, media coverage of the new ROH Parsifal dwells on Wagner's anti-Semitism and Buddhism, but misses director Stephen Langridge's tantalising visual hint.

Also on Facebook and Twitter. Photo credit Royal Opera House. Any copyrighted material is included as "fair use", for the purpose of study, review or critical analysis only, and will be removed at the request of copyright owner(s).

Exploring the ragged edge of silence

In his Syrian travelogue The Street Philosopher and the Holy Fool Marius Kociejowski celebrates the two characters in the title as "non-mainstreamers". While others have appointed themselves as cultural commentators I prefer the roles of street philosopher and holy fool, so, accordingly, my recent travels enthusiastically embraced the non-mainstream. For the 1500 mile round trip to l'Abbaye Sainte-Madeleine in Provence I chose to travel by train rather than plane or car, which, thankfully, cushioned me from the kind of French driver captured in the header photo And my journey was rich in distinctly alternative experiences including the concert seen below; while I also took the distinctly non-mainstream decision to disconnect myself from the internet for the entire ten day trip.

One of the many benefits of train travel is the non-mainstreamers it brings you into contact with. Seen below are the two delectable young ladies who sat next to me on the four hour high speed train journey from Avignon to Lille.

En route to the monastery at Le Barroux I was dismayed to find the priceless Harmonia Mundi shop in Avignon being dismantled - see photo below - which left me fearing the worst. But the shop's tireless manager Pascal hastened to reassure me that all was far from lost, and, as recounted below, this story of non-mainstream bricks and mortar music retailing had a happy ending.

Although my ultimate destination was an austere Benedictine monastery this did not preclude sybaritic diversions, and below is the Cabillaud avec sauce à l'epinard et riz sauvage that I indulged in at the ever brilliant Chez Serge in Carpentras on the final leg of my journey to Le Barroux.

But enough of this frivolity, here is the forbidding sign which greets visitors at Le Barroux. It reads 'Monastic Cloister - Do not enter. We thank you for respecting the silence and solitude of the monks who pray for you'.

And this was my home for a week. Guest rooms at L'Abbaye Sainte Madeleine may be spartan, but which 5 star hotel offers all inclusive Gregorian chant and unlimited Bliss?

Moreover not many 5 star hotels are surrounded by the stunning scenery seen below. This photo was taken on the morning of 22nd November, which was Benjamin Britten's birthday (and mine!). In the background is Mont Ventoux which Petrarch celebrated in his Epistolae familiares and which, in turn, inspired Liszt in his Années de pèlerinage. Visible in the middle distance is L'Abbaye Sainte-Madeleine's sister house l'Abbaye Notre Dame de l'Annonciation whose nuns featured in the high profile Decca recording that prompted a typically trenchant post several years ago.

African American author John Francis describes in The Ragged Edge of Silence how:

The 'ragged edge' plays an important part not only in how sound comes into our awareness - haltingly at first - but also in how life works as a whole and how we learn and practice.

John Cage famously explored the ragged edge of silence in 4' 33" and, in a far more modest way, I was able to explore it both in the silence and solitude of the monastery and on long hikes in the breathtaking scenery seen below. Aldous Huxley - who coincidentally, or more probably not coincidentally, died on November 22nd - recommended the combination of LSD and Bach's Suites for Orchestra as a tool for exploring the hidden dimension of the mind. My own experiments on these long hikes listening to the Bach Suites and other transcendental masterworks such as Rubbra's Sixth Symphony on a non-chemical and non-addictive iPod reinforced my view that the future of classical music lies with its mind expanding and god enabling potential, and not with its ability to entertain. Those who are uncomfortable with linking music and religion may find comfort in the assertion by Henry Wieman (whose philosophy was the subject of Martin Luther King's PhD dissertation) that God is not a Creator but a creative force - superhuman but not supernatural - which can release forces that transcend the orthodox limits of human creativity.

Environmental activist, author and harpsichord pioneer Wolfgang Zuckermann has explored the ragged edge where technology meets society, and my first port of call for post-monastery decompression was his Avignon bookshop which has been reincarnated as Camili Books by its new owner Camille Vourch who is seen below. Internet retailers have decimated bricks and mortar booksellers, so it was a delight to find Camille's store swimming strongly against the mainstream and really humming. An appropriate bonus from my brush with the ragged edge of both silence and book retailing was finding on the shelf a signed copy of Kristiaan Inwood's Bhikku: Disciple of the Buddha.

In Avignon the non-mainstreamers are currently on a roll, and a short walk took me from Camili Books to the now restocked and reopened Harmonia Mundi shop. The Harmonia Mundi retail chain's struggle against internet competition has been hampered by its policy of only selling HM distributed titles; but now that has now changed and the rump of the shops that have avoided closure now carry releases from all labels irrespective of distributor. Manager Pascal - seen below - was a very happy bunny (lapin?) when I returned last week. But he has a tough fight on their hands, so I made a small contribution by buying the new Arditti recording of Toshio Hosokawa's string quartets.

The peerless Gregorian chant of the monks was not the only live music on my trip. There was also a distinctly non-mainstream concert at Avignon Conservatoire as part of a symposium on Orientalism in music. In photo 2 above the mystery instrument is the Chinese erhu and the photo was taken during a performance of Laurent Martin's Lento for erhu, cello and bass clarinet - see video here. Laurent Martin studied with spectralist Gérard Grisey and the impact of Lento at the concert was so great that it was immediately repeated. Avignon's Conservatoire is named after Olivier Messiaen who was born in the city; although, as explained in a post a few years back, nobody seems to know exactly where in the city he was born. But, given Messiaen's links to both Avignon and Hindu rhythms it was good to see the concert including an evening raga played by Duo Saaj who are seen below.

Non-mainstream synchronicity abounds here as author of The Ragged Edge of Silence John Francis is an accomplished banjo player and my next photo from the concert shows composer, professor of composition at the University of North Carolina and banjo virtuoso Paul Elwood playing one of his own compositions; and yes, Paul is playing his banjo with a bow and, another yes, his other instrument is a Mac. Video interview here, and music sample here.

Also in this epically non-mainstream concert was a set by the ensemble Nekouda (which includes a hurdy gurdy) of songs from the historic Jewish communities in Provence - video sample here. But, having recently written about Henry Cowell's Koto Concerto, the highlight for me was the opportunity to see and hear a koto in the flesh, with Fumie Hihara - seen above - playing contemporary compositions with shakuhachi flute vituoso Véronique Piron - video sample here.

Sensory overload was setting in, but there was still more to come. On my final evening I took in the winter version of Les Luminessences d'Avignon which is seen in my final three photos. Animated computer graphics are projected onto the facade of the 14th century Palais des Papes - video sample here - to produce a multi-media experience that was, for me, genuinely mind expanding. Considerable exposure has been given On An Overgrown Path to Norman Perryman's pioneering fusion of kinetic art and classical music. I have much sympathy for the viewpoint that great music can stand on its own without visual enhancement. But we cannot ignore that audiences - and not just young audiences - are becoming more visually and less aurally attuned. There are very few activities today other than classical music that involve just sitting and listening; church services and school lessons are the only others that immediately spring to mind, and neither of those are exactly box office hits. It is not just tastes that are changing; as reported here previously new technologies are literally rewiring our brains. The challenge is how classical music can adapt to audiences who understand the visual better than the aural, while avoiding throwing the baby out with the bathwater.

In The Ragged Edge of Silence John Francis describes how:

In Native American traditions, as well as in both Western and Eastern ones, an individual must periodically withdraw from the material world in order to attain peace and inner knowledge through silence and solitude. In the Native American Belief system, shamanism, the vision quest ritual, as well as the modern-day vision quest, is directly related to the experience of silence.

As John Francis says, we must periodically withdraw from the material world in order to seek, if not attain, peace and inner knowledge, and my visits to l'Abbaye Sainte-Madeleine are part silent retreat in the Western tradition and part very modest vision quest. In a radio interview Jonathan Harvey spoke to me about the crucial transition from linear thinking based on past patterns to a world view of the future that transcends temporal constraints. Silent retreats and vision quests are hugely productive legacies of linear thinking, and we now need to find ways of adapting these invaluable tools for the technology driven future.

Tibetan Buddhism - which Alan Watts described as Roman Catholicism on LSD - teaches that there are two realities; one is the conventional (or relative) reality that we encounter everyday, the other is the absolute (or ultimate) reality. Just as John Cage eliminated composed sounds in 4' 33" to let us hear ambient sounds, so we need to periodically eliminate the illusory reality of the virtual world to allow us to reconnect with absolute reality. The final stage of my decompression was the Lille to London Eurostar train which was packed with bureaucrats and businessmen returning from Brussels. Every single person around me had their head in a mobile computing cloud, and if the Messiah had made his Second Coming on the 18.35h Lille to St Pancras Eurostar not a single person would have noticed. But if the Second Coming has been trending on social media everyone on that train would have been aware in seconds. Of course new technologies bring huge benefits: even though I was offline during my travels much of the planning was done online and, ironically, this critique of illusory reality only exists as illusory reality. However, although I make no claims to being be a shaman, my vision quest reinforced the view that the internet has created a world of relative reality that is increasingly - and harmfully - divorced from the absolute ultimate reality. Street philosopher and holy fool I may be, but my priority in the coming months will be to spend less time in the online world of illusion and more time exploring the absolute reality that is found on the ragged edge of silence.

Reading included:
* The Ragged Edge of Silence by John Francis
* Tales of Wonder: Chasing the Divine by Huston Smith with Jeffery Paine
* The Street Philosopher and the Holy Fool by Marius Kociejowski
* The Three Dangerous Magi: Osho, Gurdjieff, Crowley by P.T. Mistlberger

My thanks go the community at l'Abbaye Sainte-Madeleine du Barroux, and in particular to Brother Paul and Father Edmund for welcoming a street philosopher and holy fool. All costs associated with this trip and post were self-funded. Photos are all (c) On An Overgrown Path 2013. Any other copyrighted material on these pages is included as "fair use", for the purpose of study, review or critical analysis only, and will be removed at the request of copyright owner(s). Also on Facebook and Twitter.