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Music is a funny thing. On one hand it’s just wiggling air that our sense organ picks up and sends to our brains which converts it into a particular kind of signal we perceive as sound. Just as our eyes take in the various wavelengths of light and convert them into an ordered pattern of colors, the level of detail our ears distinguish is pretty remarkable. Our ability to essentially qualify not only specific frequencies but also combinations of frequencies as particular tones and harmonies is nothing short of astounding.
But what really tickles me is the depth of meaning and drama we add to this aural phenomenon. By stringing together layers and patterns of sound we have built entire narratives, often profound in scope. The primary theme of Beethoven’s fifth symphony isn’t just an evenly spaced four note motif, it is fate knocking on the door. Scriabin’s recurring harmony isn’t just a delightfully ambiguous vertical arrangement of sound, it is a Mystic Chord.
Daniel Corral describes tonight’s event as a “contemplative study of the physicality of sound”. The difficulty with this kind of work is that it challenges our instinct to attribute meaning and narrative to music. Where is the drama? Is there something intrinsic to the musical experience that becomes lost when we strip away the interpretative impulse and instead ask people to hear sounds simply as sounds? Where do we draw the line between sound and music? Is there value in contemplating sound for its own sake?
My favorite line in Mary Oliver’s “The Summer Day” is often overlooked in favor of the more famous question that ends the poem, “what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
But early in the poem, about halfway through, I believe she offers an answer. She writes:
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention
We live in a time when external forces are constantly battling for our attention. It is estimated that those of us who live in metropolitan areas see upwards of 4,000 advertisements every day. We live in an attention economy, and it is increasingly rare for us to intentionally focus our awareness for extended periods of time without interruption. But when we do, an unfolding inside of us begins to take place.
There is a Buddhist meditative practice of “turning one's attention on attention itself”. This meta state of awareness reveals to us that the great undergirding drama of all we experience, music or otherwise, does not come from an external source but rather from inside of us. The push and pull of consonance and dissonance, the shifting of harmonies in a musical form, the balance between predictability and surprise, are superimposed metaphors for our own emotional journeys. Sounds do not, in and of themselves, have tension or long for resolution, but we do, and we derive great satisfaction in having our internal dramas played out for us in musical space.
Contemplative music removes these external narratives and metaphors, helping us shine a light on our own experience. Through attentive listening to sound of its own sake we become aware of the constant internal chatter, the judgements and analysis and interpretations, so we can separate ourselves from the thing itself and come one step closer to seeing things as they truly are.
The entire philosophy of deep listening is based on an optimistic, utopian vision of the world. It presupposes that reality is already marvelous and worth noticing. It presupposes a perfection surrounding us if only we would take the time to notice. It also hints at that same perfection inside us, but again, only if we would take the time to notice. The work of deep listening is the work of uncovering this inherent beauty. To paraphrase William Blake, we have closed ourselves up in our own thoughts, and we only see the world through narrow chinks of our ego built cavern. This listening is a cleansing of our perception so we can better see the infinite nature of the world. That’s not just the external world, it’s us too. Bringing our attention towards one another, maybe we’ll see each other as we truly are, infinite.
Again from Mary Oliver,
To pay attention,
this is our endless and proper work
I hope you enjoy this opportunity to lend your awareness to the wonder of this sound, as it is, and I hope that through such listening, something wonderful may unfold inside you.
Music is a funny thing. On one hand it’s just wiggling air that our sense organ picks up and sends to our brains which converts it into a particular kind of signal we perceive as sound. Just as our eyes take in the various wavelengths of light and convert them into an ordered pattern of colors, the level of detail our ears distinguish is pretty remarkable. Our ability to essentially qualify not only specific frequencies but also combinations of frequencies as particular tones and harmonies is nothing short of astounding.
But what really tickles me is the depth of meaning and drama we add to this aural phenomenon. By stringing together layers and patterns of sound we have built entire narratives, often profound in scope. The primary theme of Beethoven’s fifth symphony isn’t just an evenly spaced four note motif, it is fate knocking on the door. Scriabin’s recurring harmony isn’t just a delightfully ambiguous vertical arrangement of sound, it is a Mystic Chord.
Daniel Corral describes tonight’s event as a “contemplative study of the physicality of sound”. The difficulty with this kind of work is that it challenges our instinct to attribute meaning and narrative to music. Where is the drama? Is there something intrinsic to the musical experience that becomes lost when we strip away the interpretative impulse and instead ask people to hear sounds simply as sounds? Where do we draw the line between sound and music? Is there value in contemplating sound for its own sake?
My favorite line in Mary Oliver’s “The Summer Day” is often overlooked in favor of the more famous question that ends the poem, “what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
But early in the poem, about halfway through, I believe she offers an answer. She writes:
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention
We live in a time when external forces are constantly battling for our attention. It is estimated that those of us who live in metropolitan areas see upwards of 4,000 advertisements every day. We live in an attention economy, and it is increasingly rare for us to intentionally focus our awareness for extended periods of time without interruption. But when we do, an unfolding inside of us begins to take place.
There is a Buddhist meditative practice of “turning one's attention on attention itself”. This meta state of awareness reveals to us that the great undergirding drama of all we experience, music or otherwise, does not come from an external source but rather from inside of us. The push and pull of consonance and dissonance, the shifting of harmonies in a musical form, the balance between predictability and surprise, are superimposed metaphors for our own emotional journeys. Sounds do not, in and of themselves, have tension or long for resolution, but we do, and we derive great satisfaction in having our internal dramas played out for us in musical space.
Contemplative music removes these external narratives and metaphors, helping us shine a light on our own experience. Through attentive listening to sound of its own sake we become aware of the constant internal chatter, the judgements and analysis and interpretations, so we can separate ourselves from the thing itself and come one step closer to seeing things as they truly are.
The entire philosophy of deep listening is based on an optimistic, utopian vision of the world. It presupposes that reality is already marvelous and worth noticing. It presupposes a perfection surrounding us if only we would take the time to notice. It also hints at that same perfection inside us, but again, only if we would take the time to notice. The work of deep listening is the work of uncovering this inherent beauty. To paraphrase William Blake, we have closed ourselves up in our own thoughts, and we only see the world through narrow chinks of our ego built cavern. This listening is a cleansing of our perception so we can better see the infinite nature of the world. That’s not just the external world, it’s us too. Bringing our attention towards one another, maybe we’ll see each other as we truly are, infinite.
Again from Mary Oliver,
To pay attention,
this is our endless and proper work
I hope you enjoy this opportunity to lend your awareness to the wonder of this sound, as it is, and I hope that through such listening, something wonderful may unfold inside you.
Performers
Daniel Corral |
Daniel Corral is a mixed heritage Filipino-American composer/performer born and raised in Eagle River, Alaska. Based in Los Angeles since 2005, his creative practice draws inspiration from Marshall McLuhan’s definition of art as “exact information of how to rearrange one’s psyche in order to anticipate the next blow from our own extended faculties.” This manifests via combinations of pop culture and experimental music conceptual rigor; unique instrumentation; performances in outdoor and/or public spaces; microtonality; consideration of the relational values of performances; and pieces that address current issues. Corral’s music has been commissioned and presented by venues such as the BAM’s Next Wave Festival, Sundance Film Festival, Banff Centre, Joe’s Pub, REDCAT, Iceland University of the Arts, Mengi, Harpa, MATA, HERE Arts Center, Miami Light Project, Operadagen Rotterdam, Wayward Music, Walt Disney Concert Hall, Hammer Museum, MoCA LA, Göteborg Art Sound Festival, USC, Center for New Music, CSUN, Pianospheres, Automata, Machine Project, SASSAS, the wulf., Pasadena All Saints Choir, Santa Monica GLOW Festival, CalArts, UCSD, Carlsbad Music Festival, and the Marin Headlands Center for the Arts. Corral taught at CalArts 2016-2020. In 2022, the city of Los Angeles awarded him an “Individual Master Artist” grant, after having declared him a Cultural Trailblazer in 2019. Past residencies include APPEX, Marin Headlands Center for the Arts, I-Park, the Banff Centre, Djerassi, and Loghaven. His music has been released by Populist Records, Orenda Records, Innova Recordings, the wulf. records, MicroFest Records, and independently. His MFA is from CalArts, where his teachers included James Tenney and Anne LeBaron. Corral is also Operations Director of the Grammy-winning PARTCH Ensemble, on the board of MicroFest LA, and Co-Artistic Director of the Now Hear Ensemble. |