Morton Feldman, Where You Been All My Life?
The two great discoveries of my middle years are jazz and indeterminate music, such as Feldman's, with its slow, evolving complexities built on simple gestural parts.
Every time I encounter Feldman's music, I wonder what took me so long getting here. Then I think, Ehhh... only everything that makes it more interesting now.
posted by Richard Cretan at 12:12 AM
4 Comments:
Thanks for the tip, mein herr! I need a palate cleanser after the "Experience Hendrix" concert last night at the Orpheum. This sounds like just what the Doctor Ordered...especially after Kenny Wayne Shepherd's 9-hour Voodoo Chile wankoff!
Do you know where the weaving on the album cover is from?
By the way, I have a new post up at Rudely Stamped for the first time in almost a year. . .
Richard, I tried desperately to get it. In the end I decided I just don't know what he's trying to get at. I thought I was pushing the envelope listening to Robert Fripp's King Crimson (Starless and Bible Black, Larks Tongues in Aspic, or even In The Court of King Crimson), but this Feldman fellow is three tangents away from where I sit. I guess I need a bit more seasoning to process this guy. I feel like I'm trying to eat broth with a fork.
Hi Cordless -- I know, I know. It's strange territory. I came at it through jazz, and after a lot of free jazz Feldman seemed almost...tame, vaguely reassuring. :-) Btw, I tried emailing you a couple weeks ago -- are you still at the same address?
Michael, I don't know. Cool tapestry, isn't it? Suitable metaphor for the music, with its woven figures, its soluble patterns. Caught the nice job at Rudely -- keep it up.
Richard the G -- 9-hour Voodoo Chile wankoff? Crikey! Couldn't someone tell Rover to move over and let Jimi take over?
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