As reported in The Guardian Music Blog
“ORGAN2/ASLSP As Slow aS Possible“, a 4.07 metre-long score which would stretch to an estimated 47,000 kilometres in its elongated form, originally took a mere 29 minutes and 15 seconds to perform when it was premiered in 1987. Believe it or not, it has become one of the most talked about events of the German cultural calendar. The weekend’s change to C4-A flat4 which happened at precisely 3.33pm, attracted about 1,000 spectators including Cage fans.
The church has been forced to erect a Perspex sound barrier outside after complaints from neighbours who say the tone which plays uninterrupted until the next change, was hard to bear. There have been periods of silence – for instance an 18-month pause until February 5 2003 – which came as a welcome relief to some.
Those who missed the latest event may journey to Halberstadt on November 4 2008, when a further tone change is to sound. And in several years’ time, one note will sound for 58 years without a break – organ specialists will be on hand to ensure the organ is robust enough to handle the strain.
When I first read this, my reaction was that this sounded like something out of the late Douglas Adams’ Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. It would be the sort of thing all the rage in the Pseud cluster. Probably the Syrian Cybernetics Corporation customer complaints line would play it while you were kept on hold.
But apparently this is for real…
This is clearly deeply symbolic of man’s struggle against the fact that the avant-garde has a terminal case of cranio-rectal insertion syndrome.
Update: One blogger seems to be taking exception to what I’ve said, and considers me a philistine.
I reject the idea that only an elite priesthood of anointed critics are allowed to comment on any work of art. I have as much right to question the validity of Cage’s 600+ year long piece as a Guardian hack scribbler has the right to dismiss a generic indie band.
When an artist who produces something inherently ridiculous, nobody should be surprised when it becomes the subject of ridicule.
I’m not so sure I’d write it off quite as quickly as the product of cranio-rectal insertion. To be fair, I’m not sure I’d go out of my way to listen to it. But I think there’s more tongue-in-cheek than head-up-arse afoot here.
For starters, the official website quotes one of the organisers as saying “It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just there.”
It’s not trying to elucidate the Woman’s Role in the transformation of water into steam at teatime. It’s not attempting to symbolise the self-destructive impulse of artists with no money obsessing about a society obsessed with money.
No, it strikes me as fairly playful, if pointless. But then, what’s the point in play?
Ooops, my cranium may have just gone somewhere unpleasant. The sun don’t shine in here.
When somebody produces a work that cannot be perceived in it’s entirety because it’s length exceeds the average human lifetime several times, they have no cause to complain when it’s the subject of ridicule.
I thought you were the one complaining about them!
To be completely fair, in making the point I did above, I was having to ignore the increasingly urgent screams of disbelief from my own common sense. It *is* ludicrous, you’re right. I just think there is a slightly comic aspect to it, as well.
By the way, I was unaware until just now of the comments section in the Guardian article you linked to, so I’m not one of the commenters there. I normally read your blog for the trains, innit.
“When somebody produces a work that cannot be perceived in it’s entirety because it’s length exceeds the average human lifetime several times, they have no cause to complain when it’s the subject of ridicule.” — Well, that assumes they’re complaining. I suspect they figured ridicule would be par for the course.
(And yes, when something is labeled “experimental” or somesuch, I fully concur that the experiment must sometimes be deemed a failure.)