In August 1952, the ground of western music subtly shifted. When David Tudor walked onto the stage of the Maverick Concert Hall in upstate New York, opened the score to his friend John Cage's newest composition 4'33'' and proceeded to play no notes at all for the duration of the piece, a space was opened up for a new understanding of what music might be.
The work heralded a conception of composing that was less about receiving gifts from the muses or sending messages to god, no longer a moulding of the emotions or even really an organising of sounds; more like a directing of one’s attention. 4’33’’ proved to be just the first of several works from a number of different artists which added nothing new to their respective soundscapes – no notes played, no noises produced – but simply gestured to something already there (or at least, presumed to be there), like a guidebook for tourists or a signpost in a nature reserve pointing out the distinctive flora and fauna.
The composer becomes a listener and the chaperone to other acts of listening. Cage's work has sometimes been seen as the ultimate act of musical anarchism, but in recent years a strange note of piety has crept into performances of the work, and a peculiar kind of mystification has entered the discourse around silence and listening.
In this informal workshop, we will question the limits of Cage's approach – as well as taking a look at a few alternative approaches to silence in the work of contemporary composers, sound artists, and protest movements.