start here

The posts on this page are meant to help you find your way, if you are new to experimental music. Once you have some sense of what it is--not that anyone offers a definitive answer--you'll be able to make the most of the resources on the other pages.


I'd also like to invite you to introduce yourself. If you tell me about some particular interest (chaos, architecture, balloons, wildlife, whatever you like) there is a strong chance that I can point you to a composer whose work will speak to you. You can send feedback to this post. Or, if you're shy, click on Contact in the header to reach me directly.

I have been wondering for some time now about the purpose behind one of the major purposes I feel for this blog--the engage with experimental music tagline. Why is it so important that people engage with it? On one level, it simply feels wrong to see such interesting music being produced that is primarily heard by other composers. Practitioners of experimental music would benefit from a wider audience, not only in terms of the market and of self-esteem, but for the dialogues that are possible across disciplines and expertise levels. I am interested in what people are attuned to as individuals, within this kind of a work. Experimental music is not simply experimental from the standpoint of construction, but also of perception. If the audience is made up of other practitioners, you are likely to get feedback that is specifically impacted by their practice. I love those conversations, and would not trade them for anything. But why not bring other people in who have other insights?

That's one reason, and a compelling one. But it felt like I was not getting at the entire sense of purpose behind the tagline. Then I found this quote from David Dunn's 1984 article, "Music, Language, and Environment."

While experimental composers are frustrated that their work not only inflicts confusion upon an audience which cannot be expected to be educated to each unique language, their comprehension unfolds as a slow and private interaction between the listener and the work put forth. This has become a near impossible task considering the societal pressures toward instant gratification. It is no wonder that composers and other individuals who struggle to make unique descriptions of the world feel themselves relegated to the same extinction status as the rest of that world's diminishing diversity. But, the act of putting forth private or vernacular systems of thought is not only a response to such loss but also a position stance against it.

A truly experimental work is a unique experience. Consumer culture knows what it wants, and where to get it. Experimental anything does not fit into that model. So the impact of mass consumption on diversity is not just physical, but mental.

I spoke with a friend about this, who is involved with a similar effort of preservation in her needlework blog. We agreed that communication is easier now than it was in the past. More people will hear, but fewer will listen. Because communication is easier, there is more noise. We all have to filter that noise somehow just to find our way from one point to another. So it's a matter of finding the people with this kind of openness to experiment--and here we are not talking about people with specific expertise, but those who are willing to walk down a road when they can't yet see around the corner. In my own niche, I am fighting for diversity in our environment.

Some questions came up as I started to put together the set of composer links yesterday. Of course there are a number of composers who readily apply the term "experimental music" to their own work. Those go on the list, no problem. Then there are those (Scelsi, Ives, Satie, Biber...) who lived in times when that term was not floating around. And another question arises when recent composers who are fascinating from an experimental standpoint do not apply the term to their own music. The last paragraph on this page of an interview with Ferneyhough clarified the problem for me.

So what to do? I've take the disclaimer option. The composers on the list may or may not say that they write experimental music, but their work is directly relevant and interesting to those who do. I've called the list, "Composers you'll be glad to know about."

Eventually I could break the list down in more useful ways:

• Unconventional Instruments
• Tuning Systems
• Theatrical Elements
• Extended Instrumental Techniques
• Text Scores
• Graphic Scores
• Chance Procedures
• Unconventional Venues
• (These are just the first that come to mind. What else?)

Those labels would overlap far too often to be useful as categories, but they may well be useful as tags or topics. Maybe later. But for now I want to beef up the links section. It's quite something to see how organically it grows. For some time now, I've been looking for an up-to-date experimental music directory, that is both inclusive and on-topic. If I search for something long enough and don't find it, it's hard to resist trying to do it myself. This time, it seems to be working. But there is no doubt that I will need your help. Do let me know if there is another composer you think should be on the list. And the other links, especially the performers and local sites, will benefit from your local knowledge.

Because I don't want to limit its potential.

The expanse is macrocosmic. We will be delving into the worldwide experimental music scene, and discovering just how vibrant it is. (Yes, that's an invitation to post links and news. More on that later.)

The expanse is also microcosmic. It is an invitation to you (musician or no) to engage with the sounds and silences that already show up in your life, to have a more full appreciation of sounds, their nature, and their potential.

A smaller world. A larger experience.

I'll write about my own experiences as a composer, listener, researcher, and planner of experimental music happenings. You'll see soon enough that I get excited about the connections between experimental music and other disciplines. But this site is no more about me than it is about you. There is a whole community of us, and we should be talking to each other. Here and now.

I'll answer the second question first. When I tell people, "I've started an experimental music blog," the question that usually follows is, "What is experimental music?" If you haven't yet formulated your own definition, this site could be a bit of a mystery to you.

The problem is, it is a term that refuses to be defined. Experimental music resists, stretches, and breaks boundaries. Defining it is like mapping a beach. The water line changes with the tide.

The single most useful direct comment I have found on the subject is by John Cage: "an experimental action is one the outcome of which is not foreseen."

In his preface to The Principles of Psychology, Vol.1, William James wrote,

The reader will in vain seek for any closed system in the book. It is mainly a mess of descriptive details, running out into queries which only a metaphysics alive to the weight of her task can hope successfully to deal with. That will perhaps be centuries hence; and meanwhile the best mark of health that a science can show is this unfinished-seeming front.

I'd like to coopt James' statement for my own purposes. If you really want to know what experimental music is, keep reading and listening. You'll find it in the details. It is not a style. It is not an aesthetic. It is not an ideology. It is not a limitation. It does have an "unfinished-seeming front," and I for one am glad for it. Its resistance to definition is proof that it is still alive.