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.

This chapter focuses on the use of spatial technique in key works that span a great deal of Pierre Boulez’s career: Poésie pour pouvoir (1958) for orchestra and tape, Domaines (1968) for clarinet and ensemble, Rituel in memoriam Bruno Maderna (1974–5) for orchestra in eight groups and Répons (1981) for six soloists, live electronics and ensemble. These works are then compared with spatialised instrumental music by his contemporaries, Karlheinz Stockhausen, Karel Goeyvaerts, Iannis Xenakis and Luigi Nono, which will shed light on Boulez’s specific approach to this artistic practice. Boulez’s unique contribution to the history of spatialisation lies in the strong articulatory function he ascribed to this performance practice. He created a typology of sonic movements that clarify the structural relationships of his spatialised works.

In Boulez’s artistic framework, the principle of negation serves as a pivotal ideological and compositional foundation, symbolising a generational reset and a radical departure for new music. This chapter delves into Pierre Boulez’s utilisation of poetry and the singing voice as foundational elements in his pursuit of the negational principle. Focused on his concept of ‘reforming’, I examine Boulez’s vocal compositions based on selected poems by René Char, Henri Michaux, Stéphane Mallarmé and E. E. Cummings. Within these compositions, Boulez skilfully juxtaposes traditional elements with serialism, using the serial language to neutralise and negate the established norms. The ‘centre and absence’ principle takes centre stage, serving as Boulez’s fundamental approach to implementing deconstructive processes. This analysis proposes a novel interpretation, presenting this principle as a dynamic force governing the dramatic trajectory of vocal compositions beyond its role as a mere structural device.

In the Autumn of 1952, both Stravinsky and Boulez were invited to dine at Virgil Thompson’s New York apartment. Boulez had already written ‘Stravinsky Remains’ which analysed the rhythmic invention in The Rite. However, Boulez did not hide his disdain for Stravinsky’s neoclassicism in this chapter. Similarly, although Stravinsky praised Le Marteau, Boulez’s music remained foreign to him. For some years, the two friends entered into an unspoken pact that Boulez would stop speaking disrespectfully regarding Stravinsky’s neoclassicism and Stravinsky would speak eloquently about Boulez, as well as pointing to Webern as the way forward in serialism and not to Schoenberg. In spite of Stravinsky’s turn to serialism, he could seemingly do nothing to be accepted by the European avant-garde. His friendship with Boulez ultimately ended due primarily to problems over the 1957 performance of Threni and Souvtchinsky’s machinations, even though Stravinsky liked Boulez the man and respected the musician.

Although Boulez never met or corresponded with the Second Viennese composers (Schoenberg, Berg and Webern), their influence on him was palpable. He first encountered their music through René Leibowitz in 1945 and began writing about their compositions from 1948. This chapter examines Boulez’s extensive writings on the music of the Second Viennese composers as well as his programming and conducting of their works, demonstrating that he was a central figure in their post-war reception. He frequently criticises the Second Viennese composers for reliance on conventional formal structures and explains that he is most interested in compositions that display ‘ambiguities’. He extols Webern’s compositions for using ‘elements of classical language’, which through their distorted use become ‘the elements of a new language’. Treating the Second Viennese composers’ innovations as building blocks, Boulez’s compositions expand upon what he identifies as their most important attributes: serialism and the crafting of novel timbres and sonorities.

George Benjamin recalls his friendship with Pierre Boulez which lasted over thirty-five years. He pays homage to Boulez’s quite extraordinary musical abilities and remembers the exceptional lucidity and brilliance of his mind.

The Nigerian-born composer Akin Euba (1935–2020) saw it as his life’s mission to create an ‘African art music’: ‘a form of music [that is] universal to all Africa’. As the chapter will outline, his career took him from Lagos to Bayreuth (Germany) and, eventually, Pittsburgh (USA), in the course of which he came up with the notions of ‘African pianism’, ‘creative ethnomusicology’ and, finally, ‘intercultural composition’, of which he was an acknowledged pioneer. Rather than seeing intercultural composition as a contradiction of African art music, I argue that Euba’s music embodies the concept of cosmopolitanism as a series of concentric circles as proposed by the Stoics, whereby the local (Yoruba) is contained in a wider (pan-African) sphere, which is in turn encapsulated in the universal. Compositionally, this vision is realised through the combination of elements from Yoruba music, such as timelines, other African influences from the likes of xylophone and mbira music and Western modernism, exemplified by serialism. As my analyses show, these elements are integrated to such an extent as to become inextricable.

This introduction briefly explores the relationship between compositional choice and stylistic expectation or ideology. With new music now a plethora of styles and approaches, how might we understand work that’s happening currently in the context of historical and social influence?

This chapter describes new music in Paris in the late 1960s, the period when the young spectral composers were students at the Paris Conservatoire. It opens with an account of Messiaen’s composition class and how elements such as neumes and Messiaen’s analyses of Debussy and Ravel informed Grisey’s, Murail’s, and Levinas’s emerging musical sensibilities. After giving a brief biographical account of those latter composers and Roger Tessier, the chapter touches on serialism’s changing status at a time when it had begun to be taught at the Paris Conservatoire; the effect of May ’68 on the Conservatoire’s pedagogy and on musical mores more generally among young composers; Fifth Republic France’s increased funding for new music festivals in regional cities such as Royan; Boulez and Xenakis’s profiles as the two most influential composers in France; and collectives, aleatoricism, and music theatre in post-1968 composition. The chapter closes with an account of Grisey’s early student works, in particular their creative adaptation of Messiaen’s personnages sonores concept towards the construction of audibly distinct musical figures, which would become a key element in Grisey’s musical style.

The composer-performer collective l’Itinéraire, founded in 1973 by Murail and Tessier, was the de facto platform for spectral music in France. This chapter shows how l’Itinéraire formed with the aim of establishing an organ for the music of the youngest generation of French composers, and how, with the demise of Boulez’s Domaine Musical ahead of the opening of IRCAM, l’Itinéraire fortuitously found itself positioned as the successor to that Parisian new music series, endorsed by Messiaen and recipient of a state subsidy. The chapter details how Grisey composed Périodes, a l’Itinéraire commission and the first work composed from his Les Espaces acoustiques cycle, and how Grisey attended the acoustics laboratory at the Université Paris VI Jussieu, where, alongside lessons in musical acoustics, he absorbed the work of Abraham Moles on the application of information theory to art. The chapter also shows how Murail began to incorporate the models of spectral harmonicity and periodicity into his music from Tigres de verre onwards, and it explores the relationship of these instrumental compositional techniques to the computer sound synthesis work of Risset and Chowning.

The book’s conclusion situates spectral music as a modernist musical movement. It shows how spectral music reprises many of serialism’s concerns, albeit on a more psychoacoustically accurate level. It relates the debates between Levinas and the other spectral composers to an older debate about formalism in art between Flaubert and Sand. Finally, the book concludes by situating Grisey as the founder of spectral music.

Spectral music as a distinct movement began in 1976, when, within a few days of each other, Murail’s Mémoire-érosion and Grisey’s Partiels were both premiered by Ensemble l’Itinéraire. This chapter explores how, driven by the theorist Dufourt, the young composers associated with l’Itinéraire developed a theoretical identity in contradistinction to Boulez and IRCAM. As well as detailing the salient qualities of Grisey and Murail’s music in this period, the chapter explores the diverse spectral music of Dufourt, Levinas, and Tessier. Dufourt’s works Erewhon, La tempesta d’après Giorgione, and Saturne engage with insights regarding sound related to his encounters with Risset and Chowning. Levinas’s works like Appels foregrounded sonic parasitism and a dramatic spectacle far removed from the more reserved forms of Murail, of which the chapter shows Levinas to have been at times a public critic. Tessier’s music in this period was expressionistic and explored electroacoustic resources. As well as detailing these various spectral sub-currents, the chapter explores the role of l’Itinéraire’s performers in helping to develop performing techniques adequate to the spectral writing.

This chapter and the next focus respectively on Grisey’s last two student compositions, in which salient features of his mature music begin to appear in germinal form. Vagues, chemins, le souffle is scored for two spatialised orchestras and amplified clarinet. The chapter details how Grisey adopted and creatively modified techniques from the post-war modernist composers Xenakis, Boulez, and Stockhausen, and how the latter music, often referred to as sound-mass music, should be considered in actuality a continuation of serialism’s principles applied to statistical masses. In this regard, Grisey’s music developed through creative engagement with serialism. The aspects of Grisey’s music covered are the use of resonance models and the harmonic spectrum, the composition of auditory processes, the composition of sound metabolisms, and the notion of a large-scale orchestral simulation of a small-scale instrumental timbre.

The introductory chapter to Gérard Grisey and Spectral Music: Composition in the Information Age situates the book’s historical narrative by focusing on correspondence between Grisey and Dufourt in 1980 discussing what name they should give their common musical movement:’ spectral music’ or ‘liminal music’. This matter of naming indicates the compositional values the composers prioritised: movement over stasis, thresholds over states, psychoacoustic phenomena over traditional notes and pitches. The chapter then gives an overview of the book’s argument that spectral music developed from serialism through embracing information theory and developments in psychoacoustics and computer sound synthesis. Inasmuch as it arose in France but depended on developments that occurred at Bell Telephone Laboratories in the USA, spectral music was transatlantic in origin and signified a paradigm shift in musical composition.

By the end of the 1970s, the spectral composers were being invited to speak at the Darmstadt Summer Courses and were enjoying favourable press coverage in France. Recognising the need for a common epithet for their musical movement, they discussed a few possibilities: ’spectral’, ’liminal’, and ’vectorial’. This chapter explores, in turn, Dufourt’s concept of spectral music, which signified a compositional approach recognising and drawing on the microscopic scale of sound as the composer’s true material; Murail’s more technical vision of spectral music, and how, at IRCAM from the beginning of the 1980s, beginning with the electroacoustic work Désintégrations, Murail developed a sophisticated music drawing on computational resources; and Grisey’s notion of écriture liminale, a psychoacoustics-informed approach to compositional writing based on blurred statistical parameters and musical mutation. The chapter ends by detailing how the Darmstadt Summer Courses in 1982, at which the composers of l’Itinéraire gave a joint seminar, were the end of their common movement and the beginning of spectral music as an internationally known compositional attitude.

Chapter 4 describes the field of cognitive science, which is the arena where all those who study “intelligent systems” (“minds“) get together to compare notes. A shared idea is that the mind can be understood as an information-processing computational system. We will see how during the 1960s renewed interest in the mind from different academic disciplines emerged as a reaction to the denial of the mind of an approach to psychology called behaviorism. We then discuss the various strands of thinking in a variety of different fields that led to this “cognitive revolution.” We learn that there are fundamental, opposing views in this field that are relevant to the nature–nurture debate. Despite differences, a general understanding within cognitive science is that the mind can be studied at different levels of abstractness and from different angles which to some extent compete but also complement each other.

Writing about serialism by its earliest practitioners tended to underline its evolutionary qualities, something made easier by the baroque and classical connections of early examples from the 1920s like Schoenberg’s Suite for Piano op. 25 and Wind Quintet op. 26. Such an emphasis did not prevent more conservative critics from condemning twelve-tone music as ‘mathematical’. But by the early 1950s, there was more cogent criticism from younger composers, claiming that Schoenberg and Berg had failed to understand the innovative implications of twelve-tone methods. Boulez and Stockhausen in Europe and Babbitt in the United States were among those who explored a more systematic, stylistically radical serialism. But in the later Stravinsky, and in Boulez’s music after 1970, this avant-garde spirit gave way to techniques that were able to make productive compromises with more traditional ideas about musical materials and structures; at the same time, writing about serialism turned increasingly pedagogical, offering academic models for analysis and composition.

This chapter considers the history of serialism in the United States and Canada. After exploring US-based ultramodern composers that used series in their writing and early engagement with Schoenberg’s methods, this chapter contemplates the contexts for the significantly increased interest in serialism that occurred in these countries after the Second World War. Many factors were at play in this development, including the role of serialist giants who arrived as émigrés from Europe as teachers and role models, the influence of US-originating modernist movements, the changing university scene, and the cultural politics of the Cold War. While European serialist exiles like Schoenberg and Krenek were highly influential, this influence was not always direct. Moreover, while US composers using highly systematic approaches have drawn most attention, the majority of Americans and Canadians using serial methods combined them with other musical techniques to produce highly original, individualistic musical languages.

Entering into Anton Webern’s twelve-tone music and its complex reception history is like entering into a combat with the Hydra: cleave off one head of the Webern myth, and two more grow in its place. Taking a step back from the embattled scenes of the past in search of a broader vantage point, this chapter argues that the crux in understanding late Webern lies in understanding that the competing, often contradictory images of the composer that have emerged pose no real contradictions after all. Instead, in the same way that the Hydra’s separate heads are essentially connected entities, these different images are best understood as mediated with one another on a deeper level, representing different aspects of one and the same aesthetic concern: musical lyricism.