Sat, 01 May 1999

Contemporary music has its own techniques, rhythm, ritual

By Y. Bintang Prakarsa

JAKARTA (JP): Many "classical" concertgoers do not like to listen to contemporary music in concert halls. They never complain, however, when the same kind of music is heard as background in movies.

This music has the same unusual instruments and playing techniques, confusing rhythm, extreme dissonance caused by 12- note composition (using all the black and white keys on the piano) and tone clusters (a pile of adjacent notes sounded together), and so on.

Thus "music" is not just sound but, more importantly, context of performance. For much of human history and through many cultures music happens in the context of ritual -- i.e. something that is deliberately made different from other human activities (cf. Catherine Bell, Ritual Theory, Ritual Practice, 1992) to build and affirm a belonging, to create inclusion and exclusion simultaneously.

Going to a concert is more than merely enjoying good music. It is an affirmation of one's identity belonging to a certain musical world.

Why, then, do many people reject contemporary music?

Because they can no longer move their limbs along with the conductor or sigh with relief at the end of a long cadenza -- in short, exclusion and alienation!

But why these feelings? We can guess that contemporary music, like other musical genres, assumes a different ritual, and anybody who is willing to learn its language will be included in it. Two cases below will present some strategies which might help to discover the rituals of contemporary music.

Contemporary music is so unpredictable that it is regarded as a problem that excludes people from the ritual. But is that problem not one of the essential ingredients of modern life? In societies affected by modernity people look for and expose themselves to problems, and even make a living from them.

Problems become "a daily fact of life," said Godfried-Willem Raes, a member and principal composer of the Belgian group Trio Logos, which performed here last month.

Problem-solving is valued highly and is institutionalized in "rituals of problems", as can be seen in every scientific congress where people meet and discuss matters in a highly codified manner.

This fascination with problems is "essential for understanding avant-garde music". The music of Logos featured prominently (but invisibly) as an electronic "virtual musical instrument" that was played by gestures. Unlike conventional musicians, however, the players did not touch the unseen instrument. It worked by feeding signals from a radar or sonar movement detector to a computer- controlled electronic musical instrument. The instrument would sound through speakers as programmed according to various properties of the movement: speed, attack, direction, etc. This mysterious nature of the relationship between the gestures of the performers and the sound of the instrument would intrigue the audience who would only see movements in the air. Participating in this ritual of problem would ensure their enjoyment in concerts like Logos'.

A considerable part of Slamet Abdul Sjukur's compositions performed in Erasmus Huis on April 21, however, does not belong to the problem-solving type. For example, Yu-Taha for piano solo was a flat landscape of silence filled mostly with sparse tone- clusters softly played in the middle register. Lacking rhythmic drive, the music appeared to be disconnected and diffused -- the sound was there with no purpose.

The nonpurposiveness could be observed also in the style of performance. It was very striking to compare his very relaxed gestures and unconcerned facial expressions in Uwek-uwek with the vehemence of Logos' vocal improvisations on a similar subject: exploration of the human voice. He merely did it as a matter of course: "I have nothing to pursue in my compositions," he said after the concert.

We need a different ritual strategy for that. Slamet's music, or at least part of it, is best understood using the Indonesian word iseng. The word, which in fact appeared in the program notes, means doing something for fun, for killing time, or, as often the case, for no purpose at all -- just pure play. Iseng has no exact English word because it is the very opposite of the concept of purposive action that dominates Western thought.

With the iseng perspective the ritual would be different. If the composer himself does not regard his compositions and their performance as requiring highly focused and concentrated efforts, then we should be more relaxed both physically and mentally.

Furthermore, similar to wayang kulit (shadow puppet) performance (you can sleep to kill time before the unfolding of the main story after midnight), the diffused music does not require constant involvement on the part of the performers and the audience. Instead, experience it as a play or a game, and you'll have a great time at Slamet's or other composers' concerts.

Lastly but most importantly: for these rituals of problems and iseng, don't take anything too seriously or profoundly.

The author teaches history of Western music at the Jakarta Theological Seminary.