Listening to Rothko

In a stimulating Duncan Phillips Lecture, “John Cage and the Question of Genre,” which served as a keynote to this year’s International Forum Weekend dedicated to the confluence of art and music, the novelist and musician Rick Moody praised Cage’s chance works, such as his ineffable composition 4’33”, as a “a breath of fresh air in the midst of bourgeois individualism.” According to Moody, Cage disregarded any notion of genre in favor of “creative work whose primary intention is simply that it is creative, so that it might simply give a name to creativity itself.” 4’ 33”, first performed in 1952, was designated by Cage as a “composition for any instrument (or combination of instruments).” It consists solely of potential sound: the random noise that occurs during the duration of its “silent” performance.

Halfway through, Moody intermitted his lecture with a cunning act of bravura by playing the sounds of paintings and photographs he recorded in various museums with his iPhone: the incidental noises created by the crowds moving past them.

Afterwards, Moody took me aside and asked if he might be able to spend a few minutes in the Rothko Room in order to record the sound of Rothko’s paintings. I happily obliged, and we both intently listened to the paintings. Rothko may have approved: he once compared his paintings to the voices in an opera. And for a moment, ever so faintly, I thought I heard Rothko’s beloved Mozart emerge from the depth of the silence in the room.

Rick Moody in the Rothko Room

Rick Moody recording the sound of the Rothko Room. Photo: Klaus Ottmann

Lady Gaga to Monteverdi: Anything Goes

Coach/Pianist Joseph Li, one of Wolf Trap‘s unsung heroes last spring for his help in bringing the world premiere of The Inspector to the stage, guest blogs today about the pairing of music and art for Wolf Trap Opera’s Vocal Colors concert at the Phillips  on June 28 at 6:30 pm.

Photo of Coach/Pianist Joseph Li.

Coach/Pianist Joseph Li. Photo by Chris Novosad.

At opening night of Fidelio at Houston Grand Opera, I had the privilege of sitting next to a couple straight out of high school, attending possibly their first night ever at the opera. As the tenor drew his gun and aimed it ever so slowly at the soprano, the girl next to me cursed under her breath in an excited whisper. She was completely lost in the moment; her response to what was happening on stage was honest and genuine.

Shouldn’t recitals have that kind power over our imaginations? Why shouldn’t we respond viscerally like that to an art that was specifically created for and performed in small, intimate settings? Especially when every song on a recital program presents an opportunity to tell an incredible story . . .

This is just one of many challenges that draws me irresistibly to the Vocal Colors series. My colleagues and I must provide the most spontaneous opportunity for that experience–without the aid of elaborate sets, lighting, and costumes.

What we do have is an amazing selection of visual art at The Phillips Collection to accompany our program. Nonetheless, choosing repertoire for a Vocal Colors concert is like trying to decide what to see in a day at the Louvre–the possibilities are endless. And finding just the right song to go with just the right painting means that there are no hard and fast rules about what kinds of songs to choose. Anything goes.

What kind of singers do you need for this kind of program? Good ones! Pulling off a program like this requires a great deal of vocal flexibility and stagecraft. The nature of these programs necessitates that the artists maintain an open mind before we walk into our first rehearsal.

What might you expect to see and hear when you come to see a Vocal Colors concert? Among other things:

  • You may hear Lady Gaga and Monteverdi back to back.
  • You may want to dance in your seat or in the aisles.
  • You may hear that song from that show you love.
  • You may learn something new about yourself.
  • You may learn something new about your date.
  • You may want to take up singing or piano lessons.
  • You may hear the song you danced to at your high school prom.
  • You may hear your favorite hymn from Sunday mornings.
  • You may hear something we didn’t intend for you to hear.

In short, expect the unexpected. And don’t let anyone else tell you how to react. Anything goes!

Joseph Li, Coach/Pianist

Look and Listen: Scramble

Leo Villareal, Scramble, 2011, Light-emitting diodes, Mac mini, custom software, circuitry, wood, plexiglass, 60 x 60 in.The Phillips Collection, Washington, D.C. The Dreier Fund for Acquisitions, 2012. Photo: Joshua Navarro

Leo Villareal, Scramble, 2011, Light-emitting diodes, Mac mini, custom software, circuitry, wood, plexiglass, 60 x 60 in.The Phillips Collection, Washington, D.C. The Dreier Fund for Acquisitions, 2012. Photo: Joshua Navarro

Villareal, who likes to listen to electronic music mixed by his friends and who was included in the Visual Music show at the Hirshhorn Museum in 2005, sees a strong analogy between his work and music.

Artnews, June 2009

Scramble playlist in iTunes

Upon seeing Scramble, I began to think about what electronic music might serve as a kind of soundtrack for the visual sequence of the piece. The patterns of light start to create a sensation of traveling without moving the longer you look at them. It’s hypnotic without getting monotonous. So I selected music that has a twilight effect, that is soothing rather than sleepy. The eight tracks compliment Scramble individually as well as working together as a unit. My intent was to have music that would enhance the viewing experience and would work when listened to through headphones.

Jeff Whitelow, Museum Assistant