“From the funky scent of mycology to the austere, aleatory sound of chance operations in electronic music”:
A foreshortened encounter with John Cage, mushrooms & silence
This séance turned out to be a lot shorter than I had anticipated it would be. But as it turned out it was short in a good way. In conversation John Cage was always an eloquent, loquacious and engaging speaker. However in this afterlife discussion his strategy is to strictly speak in one minute long utterances (or thereabouts) in response to my questions. It is very clear that he is knowingly and deliberately re-using or even “quoting” the strategy employed in his Indeterminacy (Folkways, 1959). In this work he speaks very fast to accommodate a long sentence in the time allowed, being one minute and very slowly for short sentences. I try to point out to him that this tactic is rather obvious and, dare I say it, repetitive. I really would have preferred a more conversational mode of discussion, as with those of Lester Bangs or Susan Sontag in this series. But being an engagement with John Cage, well, what can I say. I think better of it and move on.
John Cage was an eco-warrior, writer and musician, an experimentalist who used every and any contraption or piece of detritus that he could make into a distinctive and memorable sound. The most famous aleatory, or chance determined mode of composition that he practiced, is best exemplified by the occasion he inadvertently heard a glass breaking in a nearby room. As the story goes, he ecstatically dashed in to the room and asked, “what was that wonderful sound?” Priceless. As you can tell I have a deep admiration and awe for the man, even more for the artist. He possessed a flexible and open mind to the extraordinary contrivance of aleatory and system-generated sound, what he called “chance operations”. It was an inventive and astute gesture to introduce and embed accident into music and art that is beyond the ego of the musician. Then, if that isn’t enough, there is his singular and prodigious knowledge of mycology, the morphology of mushrooms. Now having just written this, I re-read it to digest its depth and breadth. I think I need a break and a little silence of my own before we proceed.
*
[Cage is “present” in a simulacrum of the famous anechoic chamber at Harvard University. This may seem to be an obvious choice which, of course, it is. But for the magus of sound and silence he is “at home” as Andy Warhol is in his manifestation at the Factory in New York, or Nancy Spungen in the Chelsea Hotel. When invoked he materialises as a static, black morel mushroom, clearly enjoying “becoming”, for a momentary time, his most desired genus morchella. However to my surprise, when I ask him to discuss mushrooms and mycology, he is reticent to do so. This stunned me. When I ask why he insists that some of the other shades in his compartment of the void (wherever that is) have been demanding that he stop talking about mycology, as they are bored and fed up with it. As I am not I shall keep pushing ahead.
An interesting quirk to note is that the sound that manifests when Cage speaks, or rather intones in his responses, resembles the vocal tonality of the German electronic musician and composer Karlheinz Stockhausen. I have no idea why, possibly mutual musical kinship and friendship. Furthermore, a very strong odour of the morel can be detected during the conversation. While distasteful to some, I adore its scent as well as its toothsome bite and taste. So, bon appétit, or should I rather say, “guten appetit”]
*
DT: John I should say from the start that I shall briefly establish some context for this encounter, if you are open to it.
Cage: Yes of course.
DT: As you probably don’t know I am fully aware of and in awe of your extraordinary knowledge of mycology. But you are even more well known for your expertise in atonal dissonance and chance-based experimental music.
Cage: That’s very nice of you to say David.
DT: Umm, sorry John it’s Darren. You may be confusing me with David Tudor. Although you can call me David if you wish, or even Christian Wolf.
Cage: Apologies then Christian [laughs].
DT: To my surprise I recently read somewhere that you first ate mushrooms as a necessity rather than a gastronomical choice. Is this correct?
Cage: Yes indeed! It was an available food while living as a starving artist in Carmel California during the Depression. I didn’t have much to eat at all. So I picked one of the mushrooms in a friend’s garden and went in to the public library to satisfy myself that it was not deadly, that it was edible. It was and I ate nothing else for a week.
DT: That really is a wonderful mycological birth story, if I may be so bold.
Cage: Of course you may and if I may say you have a wonderful way with words.
DT: That’s kind of you to say.
Cage: My pleasure.
[The shade of Cage urgently interrupts me in sotto voce that he has been confidentially summoned to make an appearance with the aforementioned Christian Wolf and has to de-materialise rather urgently. Rather than disappointed, Cage is decidedly ecstatic. Apparently they are to perform his Water Walk and 4’33’’ with the shade of the dancer Bonnie Bird, whom he adored. The performance is to be held in his present location. I believe this is what the pundits call “kismet”. As Cage would no doubt concur, shantih. What an extraordinary man]
