On experiencing a live performance of Morton Feldman’s Coptic Light

At the Edinburgh International Festival. Saturday 1st September, 2012.

Royal Scottish National Orchestra conducted by David Robertson.

Coptic tunic ornament

A sounded weave ‘pedals’
on spectral slubs of
small differences.

Time’s flow, slows, to stasis
a colour field revealed,
in asymmetries of warp and weft.

There is no horizon here – only
a fullness of field, the patterning
of an essence, stretched
into aura.

All around is sound

All here is light.

Sabine Shawl, 6AD in The Louvre Paris
Sabine Shawl, 6AD in The Louvre Paris

Coptic Light (1985) is a late work by Morton Feldman which was first performed by the New York Philharmonic, in 1986, just a year before he died.  In many ways, Coptic Light is an atypical late-Feldman piece, lasting just under thirty minutes. His major compositions from 1977 onwards had been exploring longer – and some would say extreme – duration with the vast sonic canvases of For Christian Wolff (1986) at around three hours; For Philip Guston (1984) lasting over four hours and String Quartet No. 2 (1983) clocking in at up to six hours.

In Give My Regards to Eighth Street (2000), Feldman reveals some of his inspirations for Coptic Light.  Commenting on an earlier composition, Crippled Symmetry, (1983) Feldman notes how his growing interest in Middle Eastern rugs had made him question what is symmetrical and what is not. In particular, he noticed the great variations in shades of colour in the rugs, as a result of the yarn having been dyed in small quantities. Similarly, the mirror image and patterns in many of these rugs was characterised by small variations and less concern with the exact accuracy of replication. This prompted Feldman to think of a disproportionate symmetry in repeating patterns – “a conscious attempt at formalizing a disorientation of memory”.

Writing about Coptic Light, Feldman expresses his “avid interest in all varieties of arcane weaving of the Middle East” and in particular the stunning examples of early Coptic textiles on permanent display in The Louvre. What struck Feldman about these fragments of coloured cloth was “how they conveyed an essential atmosphere of their civilization”. Applying this idea to his music, he asked himself what aspects of music, since Monteverdi, might determine its atmosphere if heard two thousand years from now.

An important technical aspect of the composition was prompted by Sibelius’s observation that the orchestra differs from the piano in that it has no pedal. Feldman therefore set out to create an ‘orchestral pedal’ continually varying in nuance. This chiaroscuro is both the compositional and instrumental focus of Coptic Light.

In this particular concert, Coptic Light was performed alongside Charles Ives’s The Unanswered Question, (1906), which was perhaps the perfect choice. Two great American explorers, of the sonic landscape, bookending the 20th Century. Ives’s own subtitle for The Unanswered Question was ‘A Cosmic Landscape’.  As the plaintive trumpet intones and repeats ‘The Perennial Question of Existence’,  The Question remains Unanswered and eventually all fades to silence.

Now Playing: Morton Feldman – Coptic Light. New World Symphony Orchestra conducted by Michael Tilson Thomas

Reference:

Give My Regards to Eighth Street: Collected Writings of Morton Feldman, edited and with an introduction by B.H. Friedman, afterword by Frank O’Hara (Boston: Exact Change, 2000).

T h r e s h o l d

trying

to catch

a thread

of time

when

theincomingtide

becomes

the o u  t   g    o     i      n       g        t         i          d           e

listening

ebb

listening for

flow

an inflexion

ebb

of breath

flow

inhalation

ebb

becoming

flow

exhalation

flow

exhalation

ebb

becoming

flow

inhalation

ebb

at the river

still standing

grounded

still standing grounded

at the river, still standing grounded  –  but different

Now playing: The Necks – Silverwater

This Land…

Machrie Moor Arran

This land

these      rocks and stones

vessels of deep time

being                 before

being inscribed

in landscape

before      being

named and claimed

as landscape.

This land

a made place

a place             made

to build, dwell

settled.

Gone now

gone.          Only

ghosts and bocans

sounding

the stones      over

peat bog, moss

moor and lichen.

.

Breathe and feel

the chiliastic serenity

of this uncanny land.

I rediscovered this photograph recently which was taken a couple of years ago at Machrie Moor on the Isle of Arran.  We were on holiday and I went out at around 6.00am to go for a walk before the family were up.  It’s about 2.5km to the stones from the closest road, which is long enough to immerse yourself in the feeling of the place.  The photograph is of the main grouping of stones which stand amongst a ritual landscape consisting of seven stone circles, several chambered cairns and hut circles.  A highly evocative liminal landscape to wander alone in the thin morning light wrapped in light drizzle. Whilst written at a different time of the day, I cannot better the feeling described by John McArthur in The Antiquities of Arran (1861):

We have never witnessed a wilder and more grandly solemn scene than these old circles on the Mauchrie Moor, looming in shadowy indistinctiveness of an autumn moonlight…as we wandered amongst the old ruins, the weirdly stirring legends of the past haunted our mind, til the wreaths of mist seemed to float about like shadowy phantoms and the circling monoliths and hoary cromlech appeared to rise from the heath, like ghosts of the heroes of old, bending around the grave of their buried chief.

On my way back to the road, I’m reflecting on  the tales of local folklore and particularly the stories of the bocans (malign spirits) which are said to inhabit the area.  I’m rolling some sheep trintle in my hand  – those soft wisps of wool which get snagged on fences or whin.  It was as quiet as a remote landscape could be. Only the occasional bird call, a tuft of wind, the soft fizz of drizzle. Amongst all the greens and browns, I’m distracted by an impressive growth of witches butter, that bright yellow, almost golden fungus and head over for a closer look.  I’m just about to step over a large tuft of moor grass, when, as is their wont, a pheasant takes wing from almost underneath my foot, squawking like a banshee.   As the bird ascends in that awkward, unbalanced, flapping squall a tail feather whirligigs down from the sky which I manage to catch just before it hits the ground.

A gift from the moor dwellers to soothe my pounding heart.

Pheasant Feather/Sheep Trintle Cloud
Pheasant Feather/Sheep Trintle Cloud

Now playing: Eliane Radigue – Koumé, the third part of Trilogie de la Mort.

Berlin dérive – Tiergarten

Walter Benjamin Platz - sign

Not to find one’s way around a city does not mean much. But to lose one’s way in a city, as one loses one’s way in a forest, requires some schooling.

Walter Benjamin

awaken
to the spooling thread
of a blackbird’s raga
gravity loosens and
Berlin floats – just a little

just off the Ku’damm
a corporate glass palace
with outdoor aviary
squawks and fireworks of
green and red, caged
and displayed as trophies.

did the birds
of East and West
sing different songs?
can walls ever
constrain the birds?

that moment when
subterranean shackles
are shattered and
the S-Bahn explodes
into light.

drifting back from
the bauhaus-archiv
having just read
of the stormtroopers
arriving on 11th April 1933

the bauhaus is closed
but minds and ideas
continue to expand

Tiergarten

Under the gaze of the golden angel

Golden Else

ANY CHARACTER HERE

IGraffiti Bunker

In the old hunting forest
under the gaze of
the golden angel
quiet stillness
mute graffiti bunker

I could be the last
person on earth

II

footprints in
the children’s sandbox
a trace of presence
a presence of absence

IIIIlluminating the darkness

the open-air museum
of street lamps

a chronology of gas
technology and progress

a timeline

illuminating a history
of human darkness.

ANY CHARACTER HERE

IV

her skull shatteredRosa Luxemburg
and a bullet in the head
Rosa sinks under
the dark water of the
Landwehr canal
her flickering flame
snuffed out

distant sparks kindle…

ANY CHARACTER HERE

VChionodoxa

blue stars are pushing through
but today huddle for warmth

blackbirds, finches,
and a leering zoo
hyena for company.

ANY CHARACTER HERE

Now playing: Einstürzende Neubauten  – Strategies Against Architecture III (1991 – 2001).

What can happen on a walk

(Edit: this may not format correctly on a smartphone).

w a l k

m i n d

b o d y

s e n s e s

o p e n i n g

m  i  n  d     b  o  d  y

s  e  n  s  e  s

o   p   e   n   i   n   g

b   e   i   n   g         i   n

w   o   r   l   d

  o    p    e    n    i    n    g

w    a    l    k

m     i     n    d          b     o     d     y

s     e     n     s     e     s

o      p      e      n      i      n      g

b      e      i      n      g          i      n

w      o      r      l      d            o       p        e       n       i        n       g

w       a       l       k

m       i       n       d          b       o       d       y

s        e        n        s        e        s            o        p        e        n        i        n        g

m         b         i         o         n         d         d         y

b         w         e         o         i         r         n         l         g         d

Now playing: Oren Ambarchi – Audience of One