Let Us Now Praise the Quiet Concert Hall

Let Us Now Praise the Quiet Concert Hall

I really didn’t want to begin this column by commenting on the iPod as an agent of cultural transformation. I own an iPod, but I generally use it only in the most mundane (and un-composerly) ways—I listen to it on the bus and backup my files to it. However, the omnipresence of recorded music illuminates, ironically, the issue of venue and its impact on the experience of listening to music. The fact that we can, at any moment, hear what a piece of music sounds like brings into relief the conditions under which music is experienced—in other words, if we can listen at any moment to a recording of Luigi Nono’s Fragmente-Stille, an Diotima, a performance of that piece ought to take place in an environment conducive to all of the things about the piece that the recording can’t capture. Otherwise, we might as well sit around in our underwear and crank Fragmente-Stille in our living room. (I have it on good authority that this is Richard Taruskin’s modus operandi.)

Among my fellow graduate composers, a favorite topic for debate is whether our music would be more successful in or better suited to a performance taking place outside of the concert hall. Some feel that the socio-cultural baggage of the proscenium is lethal to the kind of experiences their pieces seek to provide. We’ve batted around the idea of giving concerts in local rock clubs or even staging “guerrilla” performances of new music; several of my colleagues have had successful performances in galleries or other art spaces. Our limited access to the various “official” performance spaces on campus is another impetus.

The concert hall, however, has one crucial advantage over these other venues: There’s nothing to do in a concert hall during the performance but listen to the music. If your music requires absolute concentration on the part of the audience (concomitant with a minimum of background noise), the hall is unbeatable.

There’s a quality to this arrangement, however, that’s rigidly hierarchical (if not downright coercive). Personally, I’m not bothered by this, but I understand that it’s not only distasteful but also potentially detrimental to the successful realization of certain musical projects. I just can’t get past the aforementioned problem of focus—in music predicated on the revelation of structurally significant details, I don’t see how a performance in, for instance, a factory (to return to Nono) will work. I’m sure we’re not the only new music scene confronting this problem, so please, share your thoughts.

NewMusicBox provides a space for those engaged with new music to communicate their experiences and ideas in their own words. Articles and commentary posted here reflect the viewpoints of their individual authors; their appearance on NewMusicBox does not imply endorsement by New Music USA.

2 thoughts on “Let Us Now Praise the Quiet Concert Hall

  1. philmusic

    Dear Mr. Holter:

    Nono would disagree with you. When I worked with him in France, he said how much he enjoyed listening to Wagner’s ring cycle on a 5 dollar transistor radio in a rather noisy boat. He said that he liked the way natural sounds combined with the music.

    Philip Fried


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