In
class we had the chance to hear about Janet Cardiff’s The Forty Part Motet and Susan Philipsz’ Study for Strings. Both pieces are similar in the sense that they take a
much larger work and break it up into smaller components that are then
dispersed to multiple speakers. The Forty
Part Motet uses Thomas Tallis’ Spen
in alium—a motet for 8 five-part choirs—and splits each individual part
into isolated speakers (that means there are forty individual speakers!). On the
other hand, Study for Strings uses the
viola and cello parts from a piece of Pavel Haas’ from which its name was derived from (Study
for Strings) and outputs the individually articulated notes into a set of 24
speakers (i.e. the sounds seemingly “move” in the environment).
In
a piece like The Forty Part Motet,
the location does not matter as much because the understanding of the piece is
not contingent upon where the piece is displayed. In fact, my professor’s blog
even talks about how the piece was reproduced multiple times in different
locations—as a side note, my twin sister experienced the piece at the MOMA.
However,
in the case of Study for Strings, history
plays a very large role in adding extra-musical content to the piece. The
composer of the original Study for Strings was
deported to a concentration camp during World War II; after the performance of
this piece, “Haas and most of the orchestra were deported to Auschwitz where
they were killed” (cited from the Documenta pamphlet). The piece was later
recovered by the conductor/survivor. Philipsz’ piece is appropriately displayed
at the Kassel Hauptbahnhof, one of the train stations where numerous Jews were
shipped to the concentration camps. If the piece were moved to a museum, for
instance, it would lose its effect and become merely a disjointedly
insignificant stream of noise.
Both
of these pieces take advantage of the spatial element, which I believe adds
another element of perspective, because individuals will all take in the piece
differently depending on where one is situated at whatever moment of the piece.
In this way, Study for Strings’s use of
spatialization may help emphasize a greater sense of independence, as if these
pitched articulations are voices from the past with their own unique histories
and stories to tell.
In
a short documentary of Cardiff’s work, some interviewees mentioned how the
spatial quality was cool because it allows the viewers to become immersed in
the musical experience, as if they were part of the choir. The freedom to move
around, again, gives different perspectives to the individual viewers. Of
course, if the multiple tracks of both pieces were combined into a single track
and played off of one speaker, they would be no different than listening to the
pieces as they would normally be performed (i.e. the viola and cello parts become
connected, or the chorus sings all at once in a concert setting).
I
think that the presence of extra sounds of the sites certainly adds an air of
reality to the pieces, especially in Study for Strings. Since the piece focuses on conjuring up emotions and thoughts from
another place and time, it would only make sense that other noises would
authenticate that experience. Contrarily, if the piece was played in, say, a
concert hall with 24 speakers, I would assume that it would be no different
than hearing any other spatial piece in a hall—clearly, Study for Strings is a piece that demonstrates how the site could
potentially add a crucial layer of meaning that cannot be separated from the
piece.
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