Ross' Stockhausen in Berlin Photojournal lead me to a film called Ludwig Van, by composer Mauricio Kagel, who died just this month. I scrolled down to the film, and watched the incomplete version online. To me, the film was curiously interesting, but made very little sense to me. I had never heard of Kagel, so I did a little research. Ross mentioned this article from The Guardian. It gave a good basic understanding of Kagel and his work.
Kagel was serious about music in a humorous, tongue-in-cheek way. His music was a commentary on music. It is obvious from his films that he knew the power of music, but he didn't forget that it is possible to not let music take itself so seriously. Reading the description of his works, one of which was a performance piece for 111 bicyclists,
I was reminded that P.D.Q. Bach did much the same thing, only in a more "popular" way. Peter Schickele, the man behind PDQ, has the same ability to consider ideas from the Baroque and Classical eras objectively, and then humorously apply them to composition.
The author of the article in The Guardian, Tom Service, went so far as to say that Kagel "should be essential listening for anybody interested in new music." It appears to me that he might be worthy of a listen, or a watch in the case of his films, for anybody interested in music history at all. Kagel was a musicologist. He was able to extract ideas about music history, digest them, and present them from an original point of view. He makes an interesting study into the way people think and understand music and it's history.
It's not surprising that he studied philosophy and literature in Buenos Aires, and that one of his lecturers was writer,Luis Borges himself. The fact that he was schooled and raised on the geographical periphery of classical music is definitely a reason for his ability to simultaneously remove himself from and be present in music.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Class Post (9-23-08): Top 10 Classical Summer Hits
Scrolling down the home page of Ross' blog, I came across links to Top 10 lists. There's one for each year beginning in 2004, and continuing to 2007. When I clicked on the link that said summer hits, I chuckled inside, because the title of the entry is Top 10 Classical Party Hits. It made me think of how my "Party Shuffle" feature in iTunes likes to put all my classical music in there along with Norah Jones and System of a Down.
I suppose the casual implication of the word "party" is evident in Ross' intentions for the list. He says that it is a casual list of things he recommends, not a serious end all be all list of the greatest recordings of all time. He goes on to point out that he was recommending the cheaper discs. Therefore he seems to suggests as well, that the recordings themselves are not as important in the music. This supports what he mentions earlier in the paragraph about how he feels the cultural decline of music occurred simultaneously with the gaining popularity of recording.
In addition to the list, which features mostly famous "hits" of well known composers, he mentions that while not complete, there is a complete book on recommended recordings. So I googled that, the New York Times Essential Library: Classical Music to see what it had to say.
As an student in a post post-modern world, I get hung up on what is popular being labeled as "great." It seems that often we are encouraged to question, and form our own ideas of what is great, based on what we have learned about history and aspects of quality. I remember how many of the visual art students in high school professed to despise Andy Warhol, when many, and especially pop culture in general, hail him as a great modern artist.
In reading the description of the book I was reminded of Ross' casualness. The description appears to focus almost equally on the recording and the performer as it does on the work and composer. This is especially true at the mention of Bach's Goldberg variations recorded by Glenn Gould. What is interesting is that Gould's eccentricities make the recording unique, in addition to the caliber of his playing.
I suppose the casual implication of the word "party" is evident in Ross' intentions for the list. He says that it is a casual list of things he recommends, not a serious end all be all list of the greatest recordings of all time. He goes on to point out that he was recommending the cheaper discs. Therefore he seems to suggests as well, that the recordings themselves are not as important in the music. This supports what he mentions earlier in the paragraph about how he feels the cultural decline of music occurred simultaneously with the gaining popularity of recording.
In addition to the list, which features mostly famous "hits" of well known composers, he mentions that while not complete, there is a complete book on recommended recordings. So I googled that, the New York Times Essential Library: Classical Music to see what it had to say.
As an student in a post post-modern world, I get hung up on what is popular being labeled as "great." It seems that often we are encouraged to question, and form our own ideas of what is great, based on what we have learned about history and aspects of quality. I remember how many of the visual art students in high school professed to despise Andy Warhol, when many, and especially pop culture in general, hail him as a great modern artist.
In reading the description of the book I was reminded of Ross' casualness. The description appears to focus almost equally on the recording and the performer as it does on the work and composer. This is especially true at the mention of Bach's Goldberg variations recorded by Glenn Gould. What is interesting is that Gould's eccentricities make the recording unique, in addition to the caliber of his playing.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Class Post: Why So Serious?
This in a way, and by pure serendipity, comes on the tuxedo coat tails of my previous non-class post.
The Joker's voice speaks the question in my mind, "Why So Serious?" The title of Ross's most recent article in The New Yorker Such a good question! Reading this I was like, "We should totally rock out during piano recitals!" Then reality got ahold of me and I was like, "I'm never going to get away with that."
Then tonight, also somewhat serendipitously, during the faculty concert, I was both ripped from reality and hurled back again as if in a dream and then awakened suddenly. There were moments in which I forgot that we were supposed to be at a classical concert. It was a rather celebratory concert, fraught with rowdy calls of enthusiastic students and even clapping during, *gasp* a jazz number! As I looked around myself, quite self-consciously I took in the various reactions not only to the music, but the reactions audience members had about each other. I would say that it was divided, although the many unconventional moments were, for the most part, warmly received. It was amusing when a trio of blue-haired ladies in front of me stuck their noses up and looked around disapprovingly when an over zealous student would make an echoing whoop in the hall.
Then it hit me.
It would be great if our generation of academic musical types could somehow learn to outwardly express our enthusiasm for the performers and the music in a way that was both respectful, but sympathetic to the music being performed. That we would not be afraid in other circumstances to allow our love of the music to evoke sounds and gestures from our bodies that have, for our entire musical careers remained statuesque in our seats.
I don't think that it is surprising that Ross, who wrote an accessible book on 20th Century classical music, also wrote an article about the reverence and seriousness with which classical concerts have come to demand. I was thrilled to see his mentioning of it being a 20th century phenomenon. Interesting isn't it, how during a time period of much irreverence, and every growing diversity in music, could render a canon of "concert etiquette" that has nearly brought classical music to a point of near social irrelevance, at least in my humble opinion.
Ross points out that some either find the conventions for a classical performance "reassuringly dependable" or "drearily predictable." It might be easy to judge which way I find it. But I can say, to each his own.
Most interesting to me though is how the culprit for the change in the early days was the middle class, and these days the sustainers of the arts, the ones that keep the concerts formal, are the rich. I liked his description of concerts being a "dance of decorum" for the bourgeois, rather than the "playground" like it was for the aristocracy. This indicates to me, that even though there was a shift in the treatment of concerts, it in a way was still not about the music. Before, there was a concern over being too interested, and afterwards there was a concern over appearance rather than with the music. Music students can attest to the fact that regimented reverence during concerts does not make the music anymore important, and can in fact, cause severe boredom, ending in the doing of homework and/or nap taking.
The solution for the predicament isn't currently clear to me. But it is something I'd like to explore further. I know that when a performer can show interest in a piece, especially when they talk to the audience, a la, Charles Wadsworth and friends, then the audience is more likely to take an active interest in what is happening in the piece. It gives it more relevance than a performer simply placing a Mozart fantasie on a program and going through the motions. No one will really care or remember unless the performer is of exceptional ability or if they, in some way, make the piece their own.
I think that the difference in the faculty recital and any regular recital is that the students knew, undoubtedly, that their teachers cared about the music they were playing. And they knew that they would not be scolded if they cheered for them.
Perhaps it is something to consider when a performer is programming a recital. And especially when students go through the motions of planning their recitals. For me, I chose to give my recital cohesion and relevance to myself be programming an all-sacred recital. It not only gives the recital a character on its own, but also a meaning to the performer as well. I think that will make all the difference for me, and the audience.
The Joker's voice speaks the question in my mind, "Why So Serious?" The title of Ross's most recent article in The New Yorker Such a good question! Reading this I was like, "We should totally rock out during piano recitals!" Then reality got ahold of me and I was like, "I'm never going to get away with that."
Then tonight, also somewhat serendipitously, during the faculty concert, I was both ripped from reality and hurled back again as if in a dream and then awakened suddenly. There were moments in which I forgot that we were supposed to be at a classical concert. It was a rather celebratory concert, fraught with rowdy calls of enthusiastic students and even clapping during, *gasp* a jazz number! As I looked around myself, quite self-consciously I took in the various reactions not only to the music, but the reactions audience members had about each other. I would say that it was divided, although the many unconventional moments were, for the most part, warmly received. It was amusing when a trio of blue-haired ladies in front of me stuck their noses up and looked around disapprovingly when an over zealous student would make an echoing whoop in the hall.
Then it hit me.
It would be great if our generation of academic musical types could somehow learn to outwardly express our enthusiasm for the performers and the music in a way that was both respectful, but sympathetic to the music being performed. That we would not be afraid in other circumstances to allow our love of the music to evoke sounds and gestures from our bodies that have, for our entire musical careers remained statuesque in our seats.
I don't think that it is surprising that Ross, who wrote an accessible book on 20th Century classical music, also wrote an article about the reverence and seriousness with which classical concerts have come to demand. I was thrilled to see his mentioning of it being a 20th century phenomenon. Interesting isn't it, how during a time period of much irreverence, and every growing diversity in music, could render a canon of "concert etiquette" that has nearly brought classical music to a point of near social irrelevance, at least in my humble opinion.
Ross points out that some either find the conventions for a classical performance "reassuringly dependable" or "drearily predictable." It might be easy to judge which way I find it. But I can say, to each his own.
Most interesting to me though is how the culprit for the change in the early days was the middle class, and these days the sustainers of the arts, the ones that keep the concerts formal, are the rich. I liked his description of concerts being a "dance of decorum" for the bourgeois, rather than the "playground" like it was for the aristocracy. This indicates to me, that even though there was a shift in the treatment of concerts, it in a way was still not about the music. Before, there was a concern over being too interested, and afterwards there was a concern over appearance rather than with the music. Music students can attest to the fact that regimented reverence during concerts does not make the music anymore important, and can in fact, cause severe boredom, ending in the doing of homework and/or nap taking.
The solution for the predicament isn't currently clear to me. But it is something I'd like to explore further. I know that when a performer can show interest in a piece, especially when they talk to the audience, a la, Charles Wadsworth and friends, then the audience is more likely to take an active interest in what is happening in the piece. It gives it more relevance than a performer simply placing a Mozart fantasie on a program and going through the motions. No one will really care or remember unless the performer is of exceptional ability or if they, in some way, make the piece their own.
I think that the difference in the faculty recital and any regular recital is that the students knew, undoubtedly, that their teachers cared about the music they were playing. And they knew that they would not be scolded if they cheered for them.
Perhaps it is something to consider when a performer is programming a recital. And especially when students go through the motions of planning their recitals. For me, I chose to give my recital cohesion and relevance to myself be programming an all-sacred recital. It not only gives the recital a character on its own, but also a meaning to the performer as well. I think that will make all the difference for me, and the audience.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Non Class Post: Grey Matter
There might be a place in the universe, one that I would very much like to visit, where pop and classical music meet. Not in a superficial way where classical instruments play pop music, or vice versa, but where the intersection runs deeper, in the function and tonality float through both pop and classical idioms with freedom and often unimaginable beauty.
If that place does in some dimension, exist, the wormhole might exist here, with Gabriel Kahane. In an interview with WNYC, New York public radio's show, Soundcheck, Kahane discusses his true collaborations with both classical musicians and indie rockers.
Some times in his pop songs, the presence of classical influences are subtle and even sublime. In the song Durrants a gently floating 3 against 5 rhythm pervades the forlorn melody and words. The strings take on a role not as melodic content or even accompaniment, but somehow they become like scenery, the setting for the telling of a play, a sad one.
In it's complexity, lies the beautiful simplicity of the story. Therefore not abandoning it's pop roots, by revealing it's emotion with the same rawness that pop music has perfected throughout the 20th century. The interesting thing is that much of the 20th century was spent, especially by Arnold Schoenberg, being concerned with emotional directness. Schoenberg and members of the New Vienne School sought to "express" raw emotion, the emotion from Freud's "id." Pop music kind of put this highly organized and calculated set of ideas out its mind. But somehow learned to do the same thing.
He audibly welds what I would like to socially weld. Where not only would classical and pop music exist harmoniously, both in the literal and idiomatic sense of the word.
For me this is the music for, not just of, but for the people of the 21st century, who have lived through a 100 years of popular musical development. For people who lived through The Beatles, for people who survived the music of the 80s, and witnessed the dismal fall of pop stars like Brittany Spears in the 90s. If I had to place my bet on the characterization of music of the 21st Century it would be a synthesis of two often dueling idioms of music.
Young classical musicians are being raised in a time period inundated with popular music and culture, but are learning the fine art of classical music, it's composition, theory and performance. It is inevitable to me, now, that these two towers of ideas will no longer remain separate.
Many other young composers/singer-songwriters are extending their classical training into their interests in popular music.
Another dweller in the gray is composer, who is mentioned in the interview with Soundcheck is composer Niko Muhly.
Muhly is a composer, in the classical sense of the word, however to look at his album of chamber music, one would assume, without listening to it that it is a pop album. It is packaged with great modern design, and each piece is titled as if it were a pop song. The discography page on the website features not only his albums, but those of Bjork and soundtracks by Phillip Glass on which he collaborated. In addition he has also collaborated with pop musicians like Sam Amidon who plays his own brand of singer-songwriter music.
I recommend going here, and listening to the segment of the piece, "Pillaging Music." To the trained ear, there is a definite influence from pop music. Also listen to the first track, "Clear Music", because it feels quite classical. An interesting contrast.
And another pop musician who is reaching his duel roots across the void between classical music and pop music is so-called "indie rocker" Sufjan Stevens. I hesitate to call him an "indie rocker" because that could imply many other things.
So far there are some highly talented bodies roaming about in the grey matter, but there are yet to be any true "movers and shakers" on the level that Schoenberg was in the turn of the century.
I'll be excited to see, as a musician and someone with an interest in music's social implications, who becomes the next Schoenberg, or the next Beatles.
If that place does in some dimension, exist, the wormhole might exist here, with Gabriel Kahane. In an interview with WNYC, New York public radio's show, Soundcheck, Kahane discusses his true collaborations with both classical musicians and indie rockers.
Some times in his pop songs, the presence of classical influences are subtle and even sublime. In the song Durrants a gently floating 3 against 5 rhythm pervades the forlorn melody and words. The strings take on a role not as melodic content or even accompaniment, but somehow they become like scenery, the setting for the telling of a play, a sad one.
In it's complexity, lies the beautiful simplicity of the story. Therefore not abandoning it's pop roots, by revealing it's emotion with the same rawness that pop music has perfected throughout the 20th century. The interesting thing is that much of the 20th century was spent, especially by Arnold Schoenberg, being concerned with emotional directness. Schoenberg and members of the New Vienne School sought to "express" raw emotion, the emotion from Freud's "id." Pop music kind of put this highly organized and calculated set of ideas out its mind. But somehow learned to do the same thing.
He audibly welds what I would like to socially weld. Where not only would classical and pop music exist harmoniously, both in the literal and idiomatic sense of the word.
For me this is the music for, not just of, but for the people of the 21st century, who have lived through a 100 years of popular musical development. For people who lived through The Beatles, for people who survived the music of the 80s, and witnessed the dismal fall of pop stars like Brittany Spears in the 90s. If I had to place my bet on the characterization of music of the 21st Century it would be a synthesis of two often dueling idioms of music.
Young classical musicians are being raised in a time period inundated with popular music and culture, but are learning the fine art of classical music, it's composition, theory and performance. It is inevitable to me, now, that these two towers of ideas will no longer remain separate.
Many other young composers/singer-songwriters are extending their classical training into their interests in popular music.
Another dweller in the gray is composer, who is mentioned in the interview with Soundcheck is composer Niko Muhly.
Muhly is a composer, in the classical sense of the word, however to look at his album of chamber music, one would assume, without listening to it that it is a pop album. It is packaged with great modern design, and each piece is titled as if it were a pop song. The discography page on the website features not only his albums, but those of Bjork and soundtracks by Phillip Glass on which he collaborated. In addition he has also collaborated with pop musicians like Sam Amidon who plays his own brand of singer-songwriter music.
I recommend going here, and listening to the segment of the piece, "Pillaging Music." To the trained ear, there is a definite influence from pop music. Also listen to the first track, "Clear Music", because it feels quite classical. An interesting contrast.
And another pop musician who is reaching his duel roots across the void between classical music and pop music is so-called "indie rocker" Sufjan Stevens. I hesitate to call him an "indie rocker" because that could imply many other things.
So far there are some highly talented bodies roaming about in the grey matter, but there are yet to be any true "movers and shakers" on the level that Schoenberg was in the turn of the century.
I'll be excited to see, as a musician and someone with an interest in music's social implications, who becomes the next Schoenberg, or the next Beatles.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Non-class post: Music and Feminism
I came across an article on NPR.org today about the "bra burning myth" and later a forwarded email from my grandmother about women and voting. It made me start thinking about my paper on feminism's role in knitting, or rather knitting's role in feminism.
It made me wonder about the connections between music and feminism.
In 1968, a group of women protested the Miss America Pageant in Atlantic City.
While no actual bras were burned that day, somehow the myth stuck. I got to thinking about other myths about feminism. And finally wondered if music had anything to do with what these women in history were trying to accomplish.
Nothing in classical music came to me that would have struck me as material for feminists to use. However, it is notable to point out the gross lack of famous female classical composers.
It was, and is, a man's world. Women in the early days of opera were forbidden from singing in public, as a result many men lost valuable body parts. However, there were some gems in music history that certainly stand out, and up with their male contemporaries. The earliest was Hildegard von Bingen. A nun from the Renaissance.
It is often discussed in history books that she was, in modern terms, crazy. She saw things, heard things, and was rather cavalier about it all. But her craziness is why I like her. There is a line from the movie Iron Jawed Angels, an HBO film about suffragist Alice Paul, in which one of the characters comments that, "Courage is often mistaken for insanity." This for me is the epitome of von Bingen. Her bravery, her insanity, was most likely what propelled her into the history books. Her talent was equal to her famous male contemporaries, but she wouldn't have been noticed however if she wasn't "different." By that I mean not only was did she see visions, but she promoted herself in a way. She was a go-getter.
Hundreds of years go by and a two other notable women step onto the stage, both of which were intimately connected to famous male composers of their day. First was Fanny Mendelssohn, precocious elder sister of Felix. Fanny wrote piano, instrument and vocal music. Making a life of performing and composing was discouraged by her parents. Luckily had Felix for a brother and she married a man who supported her endeavors. However if it had not been for these men in her life, she most likely would never have entered into the canon of musical historical figures.
The same was the case for Clara Schumann, wife of Robert, and intimate friend of Johannes Brahms. An equally capable composer and performer herself, her "career" in music was also suppressed by society, and again her music and story may never have entered into our lives had it not been for the men in her life.
Even throughout the popular music history of the 20th century, women, as far as influence goes, were still out played by men.
Part of that is not that people gravitate towards music made by men more than women, but women just weren't encouraged to pursue that route. The role of women changed drastically throughout the century and only in very recent times have the roles and other issues begun to balance out.
Today, obviously, things have changed. I would venture to say that in the current vain of popular music, women rock as hard as men. And if it were up to me, I would say they ruled the scene at the moment.
It made me wonder about the connections between music and feminism.
In 1968, a group of women protested the Miss America Pageant in Atlantic City.
While no actual bras were burned that day, somehow the myth stuck. I got to thinking about other myths about feminism. And finally wondered if music had anything to do with what these women in history were trying to accomplish.
Nothing in classical music came to me that would have struck me as material for feminists to use. However, it is notable to point out the gross lack of famous female classical composers.
It was, and is, a man's world. Women in the early days of opera were forbidden from singing in public, as a result many men lost valuable body parts. However, there were some gems in music history that certainly stand out, and up with their male contemporaries. The earliest was Hildegard von Bingen. A nun from the Renaissance.
It is often discussed in history books that she was, in modern terms, crazy. She saw things, heard things, and was rather cavalier about it all. But her craziness is why I like her. There is a line from the movie Iron Jawed Angels, an HBO film about suffragist Alice Paul, in which one of the characters comments that, "Courage is often mistaken for insanity." This for me is the epitome of von Bingen. Her bravery, her insanity, was most likely what propelled her into the history books. Her talent was equal to her famous male contemporaries, but she wouldn't have been noticed however if she wasn't "different." By that I mean not only was did she see visions, but she promoted herself in a way. She was a go-getter.
Hundreds of years go by and a two other notable women step onto the stage, both of which were intimately connected to famous male composers of their day. First was Fanny Mendelssohn, precocious elder sister of Felix. Fanny wrote piano, instrument and vocal music. Making a life of performing and composing was discouraged by her parents. Luckily had Felix for a brother and she married a man who supported her endeavors. However if it had not been for these men in her life, she most likely would never have entered into the canon of musical historical figures.
The same was the case for Clara Schumann, wife of Robert, and intimate friend of Johannes Brahms. An equally capable composer and performer herself, her "career" in music was also suppressed by society, and again her music and story may never have entered into our lives had it not been for the men in her life.
Even throughout the popular music history of the 20th century, women, as far as influence goes, were still out played by men.
Part of that is not that people gravitate towards music made by men more than women, but women just weren't encouraged to pursue that route. The role of women changed drastically throughout the century and only in very recent times have the roles and other issues begun to balance out.
Today, obviously, things have changed. I would venture to say that in the current vain of popular music, women rock as hard as men. And if it were up to me, I would say they ruled the scene at the moment.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Class Post:Beijing
In light of recent global events, specifically the Olympics, Ross's photojournal of the games caught my eye. Curiously I had a dream about the Olympics last night, but I suppose that if you watch the same thing every night for 2 weeks straight then somehow remnants of it could find their way into your subconscious.
What caught my eye was not the National Spirit Achievers Award party featuring Chen Qigang, composer of featured music during the ceremony, but a picture just below the one of Chen Qigang. Its a photo of a crowd watching a band, a very western picture. Out of context one might confuse it for a typical indie band at a underground venue somewhere like Portland or New York.
But this is D-22, "Beijing's leading alternative rock-club."
I spent some time clicking around on the links that Ross provided, most of which lead to pages for artists including not only Chinese musicians, a Japanese girl-power duo called 10, but most interesting is a Canadian teenager, Simon Frank, and Chinese guitarist,Zhang Shouwang (aka Jeff Zhang) who play there own brand of "alternative rock" in the various venues around Beijing.
What caught me eye was this, a YouTube venue that features the band playing very "20th Century" music. That is to say that they are not simply playing atonal, but using the instruments themselves in new ways, like bowing the electric guitar and simultaneously electronically altering the sound of the guitar itself, to produce timbres and even tonalities that exist outside of the usual realm of rock and roll.
The video is being recorded at SugarJarCN, an art venue as part of "an independent music/sound art exchange project.
Also of note culturally is the band's name, here, operating under the name Speak Chinese or Die. The Canadian/Chinese duo also play in their own bands.
This isn't you pappy's rock n roll anymore.
These young people from wide ranging walks of life and musical background have just entered into a world with composers like Schoenberg, Philip Glass, and John Adams. Making music outside the box.
When I thought of China prior to the Olympics, I was aware of the fact that it had become quite modern and Western. But the details are what escaped me. The things, like experimental music, that have nestled themselves into the elaborate filigree of culture in the West. I'm always caught off guard when they crop up elsewhere, thinking how one earth did that end up where it is. But the Olympics made me do my homework, since China made such a gracious host to the world, I was sparked to reach back, and learn a little bit myself.
What caught my eye was not the National Spirit Achievers Award party featuring Chen Qigang, composer of featured music during the ceremony, but a picture just below the one of Chen Qigang. Its a photo of a crowd watching a band, a very western picture. Out of context one might confuse it for a typical indie band at a underground venue somewhere like Portland or New York.
But this is D-22, "Beijing's leading alternative rock-club."
I spent some time clicking around on the links that Ross provided, most of which lead to pages for artists including not only Chinese musicians, a Japanese girl-power duo called 10, but most interesting is a Canadian teenager, Simon Frank, and Chinese guitarist,Zhang Shouwang (aka Jeff Zhang) who play there own brand of "alternative rock" in the various venues around Beijing.
What caught me eye was this, a YouTube venue that features the band playing very "20th Century" music. That is to say that they are not simply playing atonal, but using the instruments themselves in new ways, like bowing the electric guitar and simultaneously electronically altering the sound of the guitar itself, to produce timbres and even tonalities that exist outside of the usual realm of rock and roll.
The video is being recorded at SugarJarCN, an art venue as part of "an independent music/sound art exchange project.
Also of note culturally is the band's name, here, operating under the name Speak Chinese or Die. The Canadian/Chinese duo also play in their own bands.
This isn't you pappy's rock n roll anymore.
These young people from wide ranging walks of life and musical background have just entered into a world with composers like Schoenberg, Philip Glass, and John Adams. Making music outside the box.
When I thought of China prior to the Olympics, I was aware of the fact that it had become quite modern and Western. But the details are what escaped me. The things, like experimental music, that have nestled themselves into the elaborate filigree of culture in the West. I'm always caught off guard when they crop up elsewhere, thinking how one earth did that end up where it is. But the Olympics made me do my homework, since China made such a gracious host to the world, I was sparked to reach back, and learn a little bit myself.
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