To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure no-reply@cambridge.org
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
In autumn 2023, the Curtis R. Priem Experimental Music and Performing Arts Center (EMPAC) at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute presented Shifting Center, an exhibition that explored sound through geological formations, architecture, and cultural artefacts. Using spatialisation techniques such as higher-order ambisonics and wave field synthesis, the works created immersive and disorienting auditory experiences. Curators Vic Brooks and Nida Ghouse framed ‘shifting centre’ as a metaphor for dislocation, evoking feminist and political theories of marginalised peripheries and centralised power. While the exhibition was conceptually and technically ambitious, we argue that the aurality of EMPAC itself – marked by abstraction, isolation and immersion – ultimately muted its decolonial potential. By tracing a lineage of spatial audio from the 1958 Philips Pavilion, we examine how architectural acoustics shape the possibilities of what can be heard in EMPAC, limiting the aural and more-than-aural reception of works presented there.
Only months after starting as KPFA’s music director, Charles Amirkhanian launched the radio show Ode to Gravity in March 1970. The evocative name referred to his 1968 experimental theatre piece that involved dropping objects such as a marble and car fender into a circle of spectators. The radio programme similarly released a range of avant-garde music and sound objects over the airwaves, reflecting Amirkhanian’s preferred title as KPFA’s ‘Sound Sensitivity Information Director’. Informed by analyses of archival broadcasts and other primary sources, this article frames Ode to Gravity as a conceptual extension of the 1968 piece and long-running ‘sound sensitivity’ experiment that sought to make sense of the contemporary musical landscape by collecting and propagating sonic data. Ode to Gravity’s consciousness-raising mission broadly, and the changes in content and presentation style over its twenty-five-year history specifically, add further texture to our understanding of post-war avant-garde impulses in music and sound.
Although Adolphe Sax’s serpentine invention hailed from Belgium, and then France, saxophones today are widely perceived as symbols of United States-led popular modernity. This image’s strength occludes a largely unknown antipodean precursor: the instrument debuted in British colonial Australia before being first heard across the Atlantic. This article foregrounds the goldrush-era Australian introduction of an instrument otherwise known as a ‘turkophone’, by enigmatic French musician Charles Jean-Baptiste Soualle, known in his orientalist stage persona as ‘Ali Ben Sou Alle’, from December 1852 to July 1855.
This article establishes the European origins of Soualle’s act and examines its effusive Australian reception through a historical musicology lens, before discussing the cultural dynamics key to this episode’s geographic context. While a Saidian, Orientalism-inspired critique sheds some light on the appeal of ‘Ali Ben Sou Alle’ to Australian audiences, Soualle’s local success was perhaps most notably underwritten by geopolitical events. For example, the 1853 outbreak of the Crimean War, which pitted the allied imperial French, British, and Ottoman powers against Tsarist Russia, challenged a nascent Australia’s sense of itself and place in the world, and provided Soualle an opportune, sympathetic platform from which to compose and perform. Remarkably, given characterizations the instrument signified in the Jazz Age decades hence, Soualle’s saxophone also embodied notions of freedom for its mid-nineteenth-century Australian audiences.
This episode, and its thematic resonances, offers insights into histories of touring musicians, understandings of music and coloniality, musical globalism, and the saxophone’s symbolic malleability prior to its rise to worldwide prominence.
Rap has remapped the way we think about music. For more than fifty years its poetics, performance and political power has resonated across the globe. This Companion offers an array of perspectives on the form, from the fields of sociology, linguistics, musicology, psychology, literary studies, education and law, unpacking how this versatile form of oral communication has permeated nearly every aspect of daily life. Taking a decidedly global perspective, these accounts draw from practice in Australia, China, France, Germany, Jamaica, India and Tanzania; exploring how the form has taken hold in particular contexts, and what this can tell us about the medium itself and the environments in which it was repurposed. An indispensable resource for students and researchers, the collection provides an introduction to global rap studies as well as insights into the some of the most important and exciting new developments in this field.
Pierre Boulez was a great letter writer and a frequent correspondent. Since the extent of his correspondence is vast and very little of it has been published in English, this chapter looks solely at Boulez’s epistolary exchanges with the composers Karlheinz Stockhausen, Olivier Messiaen, György Ligeti and Elliott Carter. While the correspondence with Stockhausen is one of the richest of all, only a brief sense of this can be given here. The correspondences have been selected on the basis that all four composers were pivotally important for Boulez in different ways. He had important friendships with them. He valued and performed their music and they in turn were fulsome in their appreciation of his championing their music as well as of his achievements as a composer. This brief consideration shows how Boulez not only pursued his own musical path but also promoted the music of his composer friends.
This chapter deals with Boulez’s early knowledge of African, Asian and Latin American civilisations and musical cultures and the encounters and experiences which mediated it. The role of Messiaen’s harmony class, the training for an unrealised mission in Cambodia, the tours of South America with the Renaud-Barrault Theatre Company and the relationships with the ethnomusicologist André Schaeffner, from the post-war years to the beginning of the 1960s, are considered and contextualised with respect to the fields of contemporary French ethnology and ethnography. Boulez’s statements on ‘traditional cultures’ from his writings and correspondences are reconsidered against the background of colonial institutions and discourses and the transformations they were undergoing during the incipient phase of decolonisation. The composer’s analogical and comparatist habits, grounded in interwar models, are shown through the examples of his reflections on John Cage’s prepared piano (1949) and the staging of Schoenberg’s Pierrot Lunaire (1961).
Musical form is a central issue in the discussion between Boulez and Stockhausen. This discussion, through a dense correspondence and essays, reflects the changes the notion of musical material underwent in European serial music up to its culmination in the mid 1960s. This mutation is examined in three steps. From the basic formulation of integral serial music in Boulez’s Structures and Stockhausen’s Studie I; through a reconsideration of the hierarchy between the parameters of pitch and rhythm in Boulez’s Le Marteau sans maître and Stockhausen’s Gesang der Jünglinge and Gruppen; to a shift in the notion of material from production to placing as a consequence of reflections on the treatment and perception of sound and their incidences on the shaping of time in Stockhausen’s Mikrophonie I and Boulez’s Éclat.
The critique which Boulez addressed to Schoenberg had its origins in the musical-aesthetic debates which took place in France after the capitulation of 1870: Wagner, of course, but also Brahms. The opposition between Parisian and Viennese perspectives: Debussyan dualism (Wagner/Mussorgsky) versus Schoenbergian dualism (Wagner/Brahms). Half a century later, Boulez in turn, following Debussy’s model, proposed a renewed perspective (Schoenberg/Stravinsky) – substituting for the influence of the Brahmsian agogic, to which Schoenberg’s art still remained deeply attached, a rhythmic serialism deduced from the Stravinskyan model, following Messiaen’s attempts at formalisation. Hence the need to re-establish cultural origins according to cross-border perspectives.
Boulez’s prolific writings, of which Stocktakings, Orientations and Music Lessons are representative in English (originally in French, 1966, 1981 and 2005, respectively), show his preoccupation with the dialectical and the deductive, his passion for creativity in all its forms and his focus on the craft of ‘écriture’ (‘writing’ in the sense of composing). He detested archaism, hence his notorious critique of Schoenberg’s dodecaphony, and rejected the concept of schools of composition or interpretation. In the mid 1960s, he turned to ‘formalism’ in all his activities, aiming at the comprehensibility of transitory truths, including music – analytically in his commentaries covering a century and a half of musical works by others. The dialectic between system and idea infuses all his writings. Challenging though it is to embrace such a large collection of outputs, Boulez’s unity of thought and purpose is evident throughout.
Following his early appearances during the late 1940s and early 1950s as musical director of the Renaud-Barrault Theatre Company and the Domaine Musical, Boulez enjoyed a meteoric rise to prominence in the 1960s, becoming a conductor of international renown and securing prestigious posts with orchestras in London and New York. He also made waves in the opera house and pioneered seminal interpretations of works by Wagner, Debussy and Berg. Throughout his long career, he championed the music of the early modernist generation, much of which had been grievously neglected by other conductors, and also promoted key compositional figures of his own generation and a number of younger figures. This chapter explores Boulez’s development as a conductor in the context of his compositional activities and explains how his selfless commitment to the music he believed in changed the very nature of the conducting profession away from authoritarianism to a spirit of cooperation and collaboration.
While Boulez stated on a number of occasions that he had no great interest in teaching or indeed any particular gift for it, he worked nevertheless in the course of his career in a variety of pedagogical contexts. In this chapter, I consider his work as an occasional teacher of composition, with the small number of individual students he accepted in the late 1950s in Paris for private sessions. Second, there is the teaching he transmitted in the body of lectures he delivered primarily at Darmstadt, Harvard and more extensively at the Collège de France. Finally, I explore his arguably more engaged pedagogical work, exemplified by the courses in analysis, composition and conducting he delivered in Basel in the 1960s, as well as his committed interaction with young composers, conductors and performers at the Lucerne Festival Academy from 2003 to 2015.
This chapter examines the lively intellectual and artistic exchange between Pierre Boulez and John Cage that took place from 1949 to 1952. The writings of the French poet, dramatist, actor and visual artist Antonin Artaud (1886–1948) inspired the ‘organised delirium’ in Boulez’s Second Sonata for piano (1946–8). Its continuous variation and reading ‘a great deal of Artaud’, contributed to Cage’s decision to compose the Music of Changes (1951) using chance operations. Both composers were interested in ‘non-tempered pitch space’ – Cage, in his Sonatas and Interludes (1946–8) and Boulez in his Quatour pour Ondes Martenot (1945–6) and Le Visage nuptial (1946, 1948/1951–3). In the early 1950s, Cage and Boulez explored different approaches to a dialectical relationship between choice and chance, which eventually led to the publication of ‘Alea’, Boulez’s scathing condemnation of ‘accidental chance’ in 1957 and the end of their friendship.