{"id":116620,"date":"2017-10-12T11:00:44","date_gmt":"2017-10-12T15:00:44","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=116620"},"modified":"2017-10-11T13:18:17","modified_gmt":"2017-10-11T17:18:17","slug":"the-duration-of-vexations","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2017\/10\/12\/the-duration-of-vexations\/","title":{"rendered":"The Duration of \u201cVexations\u201d"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"<\/a>

Erik Satie<\/p><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

Those who have undergone weeks-long silent-meditation retreats can attest to the power of durational focus. Stay with one thing long enough and miracles might occur. In mid-September, at East London\u2019s Caf\u00e9 Oto, a venue known for avant-garde performances, the musician Charles Hayward presented \u201c30 Minute Snare Drum Roll.<\/em>\u201d The piece could not be more functional or self-explanatory in its title. What happened, however, in those eighteen thousand seconds of continuous drumming was the opposite of readily explicable.<\/p>\n

A drumroll is a sonic metonym for anticipation, so much so that we use it verbally more often than we hear it literally. The phrase drumroll, please<\/em>\u00a0is an ironizing indication that what follows may fall short of spectacular but that it should nonetheless be eagerly awaited and greeted. Hayward\u2019s feat subverted this notion. The preliminary, introductory flourish became the event itself. At Caf\u00e9 Oto, Hayward stood hunched over a single, spotlit drum as the seated audience was held rapt by the speed and precision and, most of all, duration<\/em> of his playing.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Around the ten-minute mark, the drumroll began to take on the contours of a drone. Tones emerged\u2014a subtle chord sounding beneath or through the putatively pure rhythm. It became, in other words, its own melodic music. A few weeks later, toward the end of September, I saw\u00a0another drumroll of sorts. This one lasted not a virtuosic thirty minutes but a mind-melting eighteen hours. Down in the bowels of the Guggenheim, twenty pianists took turns playing a short and generally neglected piece by the French composer Erik Satie.<\/p>\n

\u201cVexations\u201d comes with the stipulation that it be repeated 840 times. This may have been a throwaway jeer at Wagnerian pomposities of scale, but it also allows \u201cVexations\u201d to be a thrilling precursor to the kind of late twentieth-century serial music we associate with John Cage and his contemporaries. Cage, in fact, unearthed and championed the piece in 1948, and in 1963 he staged a performance in New York. Several of those original performers\u2014Philip Corner, David Del Tredici, Joshua Rifkin, and Christian Wolff\u2014returned to take part in the musical relay of a recent Tuesday night into Wednesday afternoon. Satie wrote the piece in 1893 as an insouciant \u201cadieu\u201d to the Salon de la Rose + Croix, an esoteric sect lead by the wildly eccentric mystic Josephin P\u00e9ladan and the subject of the Guggenheim\u2019s current show, \u201cMystical Symbolism.\u201d Satie, perhaps wearied by P\u00e9ladan\u2019s grandiloquent excesses, broke with him after the first salon and may not have been wholly serious, then, when he wrote, \u201cTo play this motif eight hundred forty times in a row, it would be advisable to prepare oneself beforehand, in the deepest silence, through serious immobilities.\u201d<\/p>\n

Writing in\u00a0The New Yorker<\/em>, Alex Ross, who has seen \u201cVexations\u201d performed before, warned that attendees \u201cmay experience hallucinations of the Sphinx before the performance is done.\u201d Around\u00a0ten P.M.<\/small>\u00a0on Tuesday night, the Peter B. Lewis Theater was mostly full. Many eyes in the audience were closed, although whether in attentive rapture or in simple weeknight repose, it was hard to say. Around\u00a0eleven, my friend, with a Jack Nicholson leer in his eye, whispered, \u201cThe sound\u2019s mutating!\u201d Another friend admitted she was terrified of getting the piece stuck in her head. That seemed unlikely. \u201cVexations,\u201d though vexing, is not exactly an earworm. It does not soothe. It sounds uncertain and anxious in a far-off way. It is a piece without resolution, in both the musical and metaphorical sense. In fact, many among the squad of seasoned pianists confessed that despite the extreme repetition, they had failed to commit the piece to memory. Every player read from the sheet music on the stand, and since the piece takes up just four lines, the only pages that turned during the performance were those of the flip chart across the stage, beside which a person sat, Sharpie in hand, tasked with marking off the iterations in groups of five, as a prisoner would their days on the wall of a cell.<\/p>\n

Were we in prison? If you stick with purgatory long enough in the right frame of mind, it can yield a kind of paradise. In 1950, John Cage wrote, \u201cA performance of this piece would be a measure, accurate as a mirror, of one\u2019s \u2018poverty of spirit\u2019 without which, incidentally, one loses the kingdom of heaven. More and more it seems to me that relegating Satie to the position of having been very influential, but in his own work finally unimportant, is refusing to accept the challenge he so bravely gave us.\u201d Those things\u00a0that seem like absurd jokes\u2014a drumroll that goes on way too long, a piece of music played far too many times\u2014might indeed be jokes, but might simultaneously yield something transcendent.<\/p>\n

Around the forty-fourth iteration, my world went white and the only thing in it were musical notes, which\u00a0were now violet-colored blobs, blooming and merging into one another along a bacterial strand. Not quite the sphinx but a vision strange and vivid enough to thrill, terrify, and ultimately convince me that it was time to go home, fall asleep to a soundtrack of nothing, and leave the remaining twelve hours to the undaunted.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hermione Hoby is a freelance writer for the<\/i> Guardian, the\u00a0<\/em>New York Times,<\/em> The New Yorker,<\/em>\u00a0and others. Her debut novel, <\/i>Neon in Daylight,<\/em> will be published by Catapult in January<\/a>.\u00a0<\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  Those who have undergone weeks-long silent-meditation retreats can attest to the power of durational focus. Stay with one thing long enough and miracles might occur. In mid-September, at East London\u2019s Caf\u00e9 Oto, a venue known for avant-garde performances, the musician Charles Hayward presented \u201c30 Minute Snare Drum Roll.\u201d The piece could not be more […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1276,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1187],"tags":[31012,5105,31013,31010,31017,31015,31011,3477,8117,31020,31016,31019,31014,31018,31008,31009],"class_list":["post-116620","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-on-music","tag-30-minute-snare-drum","tag-420-characters","tag-alex-ross","tag-cafe-oto","tag-christian-wolff","tag-david-del-tredici","tag-east-london","tag-guggenheim","tag-john-cage","tag-josephin-peladan","tag-joshua-rifkin","tag-mystical-symbolism","tag-philip-corner","tag-salon-de-la-rose-croix","tag-satie","tag-vexations"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nThe Duration of 'Vexations'<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"A writer listens to so many repetitions of Satie that her world goes white and psychedelic images appear before her eyes\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2017\/10\/12\/the-duration-of-vexations\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"The Duration of \u201cVexations\u201d by Hermione Hoby\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"October 12, 2017 \u2013   Those who have undergone weeks-long silent-meditation retreats can attest to the power of durational focus. 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