Oxford University Press The Musical Quarterly

Towards an Aesthetic of Experimental Music
Author(s): Christopher Ballantine

Source: The Musical Quarterly, Vol. 63, No. 2 (Apr., 1977), pp. 224-246
Published by: Oxford University Press
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TOWARDS AN AESTHETIC OF
EXPERIMENTAL MUSIC
By CHRISTOPHER BALLANTINE
EXPERIMENTAL music patently lacks an articulate aesthetic.

Precisely this lack enabled a reviewer not long ago to denigrate
experimental music as "a rather amateurish branch of philosophy
and comparative religion, as against a genuinely musical move-
ment."' Paradoxically, the detractors of experimental music include
those who speak from a left-wing position. What makes this par-
adoxical is, as I hope to reveal, that experimental music happens to
have implications that derive from, and support, such a position. One
difficulty is that these implications are not often expressed at the level
of the music's "content"; and current evaluations of experimental
music show no awareness of the complexities of the arguments put
forward by such radical thinkers as Walter Benjamin, Bertolt Brecht,
and Theodor Adorno (among others), who have dealt with the prob-
lems of commitment in art, of experiment, and of an avant-garde. A
knowledge of their work makes clear that an aesthetic of experi-
mental music could well begin by attempting to situate the theory
and practice of experimental music within the framework of argu-
ments advanced by these writers. This essay is such a beginning.
Advances in modern technology have precipitated a crisis for art,

as for society, of such dimensions that our old notions of what con-
stitutes art, how it should be made, and so on, are rapidly becoming,
or have already become, obsolete. Among those who have recognized
this is Paul Valery:
Our fine arts were developed, their types and uses were established, in times
very different from the present, by men whose power of action upon things was
1 Richard Middleton in Music and Letters, LVI/1 (January, 1975), 85-86.
224
Experimental Music 225
insignificant in comparison with ours. But the amazing growth of our techniques,
the adaptability and precision they have attained, the ideas and habits they are
creating, make it a certainty that profound changes are impending in the ancient
craft of the Beautiful. In all the arts there is a physical component which can no
longer by considered or treated as it used to be, which cannot remain unaffected
by our modern knowledge and power. For the last twenty years neither matter nor
space nor time has been what it was from time immemorial. We must expect great
innovations to transform the entire technique of the arts, thereby affecting artistic
invention itself and perhaps even bringing about an amazing change in our
very notion of art.2
Walter Benjamin placed this quotation at the head of his justly

famous essay, first published in 1936, "The Work of Art in the Age
of Mechanical Reproduction." Taking up Valery's theme, Benjamin
says that "under the present conditions of production" art has new
developmental tendencies. These conditions "brush aside a number
of outmoded concepts, such as creativity and genius, eternal value
and mystery."3 This much was recognized by certain musicians about
the same time. Hanns Eisler attributed what he called "the crisis of
concert-hall music" to "a form of production made obsolete and over-

taken by new technical innovations."4 This music must therefore
undergo a "functional transformation": it must remove "first, the
dichotomy of performer and audience and, secondly, that of technical
method and content." (That the "solution" of Eisler's own practice
--to introduce "the word" into concert music --left this music
much as he had found it does not negate the acuity of his criticism.)
A concrete and conscious attempt to provide an art adequate to the
"present conditions of production" was made by Brecht in his Epic
Theater. Inasmuch as its forms corresponded to the new technical
forms - cinema and radio (as will be shown later in this essay) -
epic theater corresponded to the modern level of technology. But
precisely the theoretical backwardness of contemporary thought
about new art --analogous to that which now faces new music -
made it exceedingly difficult for epic theater to be accepted. This
backwardness could not accept epic theater on account of its "close-
ness to real life"; meanwhile, said Benjamin, "theory languishes in
2 Valkry, "The Conquest of Ubiquity," Aesthetics, trans. Ralph Mannheim (New

York, 1964), p. 225. The essay was first published in 1928.
3 "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction," in Benjamin,
Illuminations, trans. Harry Zohn (London, 1970), p. 220.
4 Quoted in Benjamin, "The Author as Producer," Understanding Brecht, trans.
Anna Bostock (London, 1973), p. 96.
226 The Musical Quarterly
the Babylonian exile of a praxis which has nothing to do with the

way we live. Thus, the values of an operetta by Kolla lend them-
selves more readily to definition in the approved language of
aesthetics than those of a play by Brecht."5 What its critics did not
realize - or perhaps realized and therefore resisted - was that be-
cause epic theater undermined the idea of theater as entertainment,
it also undermined them as critics: its criterion, Benjamin argued, is
not the effect on the nervous system but the degree to which "the
false and deceptive totality called 'audience' begins to disintegrate
and there is new space for the formation of separate parties within
it";6 the critic was thereby deprived of any "autonomous" system
of aesthetics on which to draw.
How then, more exactly, was such a work to be judged? It is of
no use whatsoever, said Benjamin, to consider a work of art as a
"rigid, isolated object." To ask of the work, "does it have the right
tendency (or commitment)?" and "is it also of high quality?" is to
pose as two conflicting questions what should dialectically be posed
as one. This can be done only if the work is "inserted into the con-
text of living social relations." Instead of asking "what is a work's
position vis-a-vis the production relations of its time?" one should
ask: "what is its position within them?"7 This question is addressed
to a work's artistic tendency (and thereby, Benjamin avers, to its
quality as well); but it is also addressed to the work's political tend-
ency. Since it concerns the function of a work within the artistic
production relations of its time, it is directly concerned with artistic
technique. Left-wing criticism that seeks in art an explicit content is
thus revealed as simplistic - and possibly ideological too, for it
applauds what Benjamin calls the idea of the artist as well-wisher or
patron, and forgets that his place "in the class struggle can only be
determined, or better still chosen, on the basis of his position within
the production process."s Thesis art in any case, as Adorno has
shown, is perfectly acceptable to the culture industry. Or, in Ben-
jamin's words: "we are confronted with the fact -of which there
has been no shortage of proof in Germany over the last decade9 -
that the bourgeois apparatus of production and publication is cap-
5 "What Is Epic Theatre?" first version, Understanding Brecht, p. 3.

6 Ibid., p. 10.
7 The Author as Producer," p. 87.
8 Ibid., p. 93.
9 Benjamin wrote this paper during the thirties.
able of assimilating, indeed of propagating, an astonishing amount of

revolutionary themes without ever seriously putting into question
its own continued existence or that of the class which owns it."'o
A committed artist today will therefore "never be concerned with
products alone, but always, at the same time, with the means of pro-
duction. In other words," Benjamin continues, "his products must
possess an organizing function besides and before their character as
finished works. And their organizational usefulness must on no
account be confined to propagandistic use. Commitment alone will
not do it." Two things are meant by "organizing function." Firstly,
they must be capable of instructing other writers in their production,
and, secondly, they must improve the apparatus of production. What
is meant by "an improved apparatus"? "This apparatus will be better,
the more consumers it brings into contact with the production
process - in short, the more readers or spectators it turns into col-
laborators."11
II
Does experimental music show evidence of improving the ap-

paratus of production? Certainly the notion of participation is deeply
rooted in its ethic. Even when the passivity of the audience is not in
fact transcended so that the audience participates actively in the
creation of the music, experimental music will almost invariably
point towards a situation in which such cocreation might be achieved.
Participation is accepted in principle, if not always attained in fact.
But a genuinely participatory music has of course frequently been
achieved in experimental music. As many people can join in the
performance of Max Neuhaus's Telephone Access and of his Public
Supply as have telephones, or access to them. In the former, the
caller dials a given number; the sounds or words he makes are
modified electronically and fed back to him. However, obviously
nothing but "solos" are possible here. In the latter piece this limita-
tion is overcome: the caller's sounds are mixed with those of other
callers, modified, and then broadcast; a player within earshot of a
radio can hear the composite sound to which he has contributed.
Such pieces not only show how the media might be available for the
purposes of active musical participation; they also demonstrate in a
10 "The Author as Producer," p. 94.
11 Ibid., p. 98.
very direct way their social possibilities. "Art," said Cage in 1967 in
a comment that would aptly describe Public Supply, "instead of
being an object made by one person is a process set in motion by a
group of people. Art's socialized. It isn't someone saying something,
but people doing things, giving everyone (including those involved)
the opportunity to have experience they would not otherwise have
had."12
Community music of a different kind is provided by the environ-

mental compositions of Trevor Wishart and Friends, published in a
recent collection called Sun - Creativity and Environment. In some
of these pieces, all of which have been performed, music may be a
carnival-like event made in a village community by its inhabitants
and lasting perhaps several days. Local skills as well as local sound-
producing materials or objects may be adopted for musical use. After
attacking audience participation as normally too limited, Wishart
writes:
The entire audience should, ideally, be an intrinsic part of the event from be-
ginning to end, and when this is the case they cease te be mere audience and the
event ceases to be a concert; they create the event, it is theirs, it is no longer
done for them. They are no longer 'the public', divided off from the 'Artists' by
an unquestionable act of God which caused some people to be born with a
'Creative Spark', an 'Artistic Gift', destined to amuse the vast hordes of the sup-
posedly unimaginative. (What child was born without imagination?) They
participate in a creative process, and in so doing perhaps realize the existence
and/or importance of their own creative potential.13
Closer to a traditional concert situation, but negating it at every turn,

is Frederic Rzewski's Free Soup. Here the audience, far from being
passive listeners, are asked to bring instruments and to play with the
"performers," who are instructed to try "to relate to each other and
to people and act as naturally and free as possible, without the odious
role-playing ceremony of traditional concerts." Rzewski's Sound Pool
sets up an improvisation in which a wide variety of people may
participate; its most explicit restriction is that imposed on the
stronger players, who are required for the most part to "do accom-
panying work, that is, help weaker players to sound better." Equally
anti-elitist is the same composer's Les Moutons de Panurge, which is
"for any number of musicians playing melody instruments plus any
12 Cage, "Diary: How to Improve the World (You Will Only Make Matters Worse),
Continued 1967," A Year from Monday (London, 1968), p. 151.
13 Wishart, Sun - Creativity and Environment (London, 1974), p. 8.
number of non-musicians playing anything." Some of Cornelius

Cardew's music is among the most brilliantly conceived attempts to
provide music-making opportunities for unskilled (as well as skilled)
players. In several "Paragraphs" of The Great Learning, for instance,
he has composed for different levels of musical accomplishment as an
integral part of a thoroughly organized musical structure. His Scratch
Orchestra sanctioned such differences as part of a performing body,
without discrimination. In Michael Nyman's description,
The Scratch Orchestra (singularly unsusceptible to definition though it was)
defined itself not through constitutions or the intentions of one composer, but
through the interests, idiosyncrasies, ideas, creativity of the group of individuals,
drawn from any number of walks of life, who made up the orchestra. The Scratch
Orchestra's (unwritten, unwritable) constitution was one which allowed each
person to be himself, in a democratic social microcosm where (for a long time)
the individual differences between people could coexist quite happily, without
apparently being reduced to a common 'constitutional' or organizational de-
nominator, where a nominal 'star' (a Cardew or a Tilbury) had no priority
rights over the youngest, newest, most inexperienced member.14
Such an arrangement, Cardew has commented, "fosters communal

activity, it breaks down the barrier between private and group act-
ivity, between professional and amateur - it is a means to sharing
experience."'" The Scratch Orchestra therefore was more than just
a performing ensemble: it was an experimental community, which
entered into social, ethical, and aesthetic experiment on a communal
scale.
These tendencies may still seem new and surprising in music; but
they merely take up in a more modern form the changes noted by
Benjamin and others forty years ago in some of the other arts. They
constitute what Benjamin described as a vast melting-down process,
"in which many of the contrasts in terms of which we have been
accustomed to think may lose their relevance." This process "not
only destroys the conventional separation between genres, between
writer and poet, scholar and popularizer, but . . . questions even the
separation between author and reader.""6 Film is one example: "the
newsreel offers everyone the opportunity to rise from passer-by to
movie-extra"; as a consequence of this, "any man might even find
himself part of a work of art." Thus in Russian films some of the
14 Nyman, Experimental Music: Cage and Beyond (London, 1974), p. 114.

15 Cardew, ed., Scratch Music (London, 1972), p. 16.
16 "The Author as Producer," pp. 89-90.
players "are not actors in our sense but people who portray them-
selves.""17 (This process, says Benjamin, has been held back in cap-
italistic Western Europe.) Contemporary literature is subject to the
same changes. The situation that existed for centuries, whereby "a
small number of writers were confronted by many thousands of
readers," has been changing since the end of the last century:
With the increasing extension of the press, which kept placing new political,
religious, scientific, professional, and local organs before the readers, an increasing
number of readers became writers - at first, occasional ones. It began with the
daily press opening to its readers space for 'letters to the editor'. And today there
is hardly a gainfully employed European who could not, in principle, find an
opportunity to publish somewhere or other comments on his work, grievances,
documentary reports, or that sort of thing. Thus, the distinction between author
and public is about to lose its basic character.IS
Similar changes can be discerned in the theater, notably in the work

of Brecht. Speaking of the didactic play, Benjamin notes: "through
the exceptional austerity of its apparatus, it facilitates and encourages
the interchangeability of actors and audience, audience and actors.
Every spectator can become one of the actors."19 Such sympathies are
in keeping also with surrealism, which, although it transmutes the
artist into a magician does not thereby separate him from other men.
The poet, Breton said, walks "in broad daylight" among ordinary
men. The magic is within reach of all; everybody is blessed. "Poetry,"
added Lautr6amont, "must be made by all, not by one."20
For Brecht a further reason why changes in the (theatrical) ap-
paratus of production were necessary was that art had become mer-
chandise, and was therefore "governed by the laws of mercantile
trade." "At present," he wrote around 1930, "the apparati do not
work for the general good; the means of production do not belong
to the producer."21 The theater, as apparatus, is given "absolute
priority" over the plays. "This apparatus resists all conversion to
other purposes, by taking any play which it encounters and im-
mediately changing it so that it no longer represents a foreign body
within the apparatus - except at those points where it neutralizes
17 "The Work of Art," p. 233.

18 Ibid., p. 234.
19 "What Is Epic Theatre?" second version, Understanding Brecht, p. 20.
20o uoted in Maurice Nadeau, The History of Surrealism, trans. Richard Howard
(Harmondsworth, Middlesex, 1973), p. 52.
21 "The Modern Theatre Is the Epic Theatre," Brecht on Theatre, ed. and trans.
John Willett (New York, 1964), p. 35.
itself." Thus the theater's apparatus falsifies; for economic reasons

"it theatres it all down.-2 Epic theater answers this assault by causing
a "battle between theatre and play," and so destroys the old ap-
paratus. This is a transformation that corresponds to "the whole
radical transformation of the mentality of our time.'"23
III
The Dadaists sacrificed market values by means of what Benjamin

called the "studied degradation of their material." Through the con-
scious use of the unmarketable - trivia, obscenity - they achieved
"a relentless destruction of the aura of their creations." Experimental
music seeks to achieve this too, very often in a similar way. Benjamin
traces the "aura" of a traditional work of art to its ritual function:
ritual - "the location of its original use value" - is the basis of the
unique quality of the "authentic" in a work of art. In the Renais-
sance things began to change; the secular cult of beauty "clearly
showed that ritualistic basis in its decline and the first deep crisis
which befell it." The advent of photography, "simultaneously with
the rise of socialism," then posed a serious threat to the artistic aura,
precisely because it attacked the possibility of authenticity at its root;
in photography no one print can claim to be the uniquely authentic
print. But the real crisis occurred only a century later. Now, "for the
first time in world history, mechanical reproduction emancipates the
work of art from its parasitical dependence on ritual."24
What social tendency provides the basis for this contemporary
decay of the aura? Benjamin answers: "the increasing significance
of the masses in contemporary life." The masses today want to "bring
things 'closer' spatially and humanly. Thus is manifested in the field
of perception what in the theoretical sphere is noticeable in the in-
creasing importance of statistics. The adjustment of reality to the
masses and of the masses to reality is a process of unlimited scope,
as much for thinking as for perception.""2 Precisely the same social
basis underlies experimental music. It too, in principle and often in
practice, destroys the aura of a work --not through reproduction
22 "The Literarization of the Theatre," Brecht on Theatre, p. 43.

23 "The Epic Theatre and Its Difficulties," Brecht on Theatre, pp. 22-23.
24 "The Work of Art," pp. 239-40 and 226.
25 Ibid., p. 225.
but by situating the phenomenon of "closeness" at the very root and

as the very essence of the artwork. Gone are the notions of exclusive-
ness, of elitism, of a private code, of expertise, of the unique and
permanent work of art, of "creativity and genius, eternal value and
mystery." The musical work in principle becomes creatable by every-
one through a revolution in the apparatus of musical production
(which includes its language), just as the work of art becomes in
principle possessable by everyone through a revolution in the ap-
paratus of reproduction. To be sure, mechanical reproduction did
not enter into musical art as early as it did into visual art; in the
nineteenth century music responded to the desire for availability
and "closeness" by developing ever larger resources of production in
performance (grand opera, bigger orchestras). It is not until the de-
velopment of sound recording that music undergoes a reproductive
revolution, a change that culminates some time later in the emerg-
ence of composition onto magnetic tape: musique concrete and
electronic music wholly defy aura and the notion of "authenticity."
But meanwhile music was already on the way to meeting these chal-
lenges in another way - through the introduction of alea as a
principle of performance, which in itself negates the possibility of a
unique authenticity, an aura, in the work. Mechanical reproduction
in painting guarantees an infinite number of identical prints (as does
sound recording); alea guarantees an infinite number of different
versions or realizations. Both make it impossible for an aura to at-
tach to the final product.
The emancipation from ritual achieved by mechanical reproduc-
tion (of which Benjamin speaks) can be seen also in the dress worn
by audiences at concerts of experimental music, and in the rejection
by such music of the traditional concert hall. The distinctive, formal
clothes that are conventionally worn at concerts of traditional music
have been displaced. The new audiences by and large wear their
ordinary, everyday dress to experimental music concerts: they observe
no distinction between "life" and "art" - or, rather, the art is -felt
as bearing a close and necessary relationship to life, and this prox-
imity is confirmed equally by the disappearance of the traditional
distinction in dress and by the emigration of experimental music
from the hallowed traditional performing area. The pulling down
of the barrier of exclusiveness and ritual is of a piece with the in-
vestigation of life in art, of which Benjamin and Brecht speak.
In a vivid image Benjamin summed up the current trend towards
the desacralization of art. "The point at issue in the theatre today,"

he said,
concerns the filling-in of the orchestra pit. The abyss which separates the actors
from the audience like the dead from the living, the abyss whose silence heightens
the sublime in drama, whose resonance heightens the intoxication of opera,
this abyss which, of all the elements of the stage, most indelibly bears the traces
of its sacral origins, has lost its function.26
Nowhere is the desacralization of contemporary art clearer than in

that experimental music which seeks out the unique peculiarities of
individual human beings and allows these to dictate much of the
shape and content of the piece - a process already prefigured at the
very moment that a composer stops writing every detail of his nota-
tion and withdraws, conceding authorship (in the same measure as he
withdraws) to the players. Such a piece is Alvin Lucier's I Am Sitting
in a Room, which creatively uses Lucier's own speech impediment:
a marked stutter. He reads the text; this is recorded, played back into
the room, and rerecorded; the rerecording is then played back and
recorded again - and so on. Slowly this process filters out the con-
tent of the original text and replaces it with the resonant fre-
quencies of the room, in the distinctive rhythm of his original read-
ing. Thus the speech impediment is transcended; it becomes precisely
that which gives the music its interesting rhythmic quality. Lucier
says that he is more interested in the smoothing-out of his impedi-
ment in the piece than in the exploration of the room-resonance.
Another composition of his, The Only Talking Machine of Its Kind
in the World - "for any stutterer, stammerer, lisper, person with
faulty or halting speech, regional dialect or foreign accent or any
other anxious speaker who believes in the healing power of sound"
-has a somewhat similar aim, achieved by different means.
The type of response demanded of an audience in most pieces of
experimental music is another aspect of the process of "filling in the
orchestra pit." More than for possibly any other Western music, an
audience for experimental music is expected to respond creatively.
A member of the audience is not faced with a pregiven distinction
between foreground and background, with certain discrete and
readily graspable musical "facts," with a given and sensible structure,
with clear and sanctified boundaries which define what one's atten-
tion should include or exclude. (Even if not all these features are
26 "What Is Epic Theatre?" first version, p. 1.
absent, they are at any rate markedly less present than in traditional
music.) Such situations provide exercises in perception, or new ways
of seeing or hearing, and as such they are perfectly in keeping with
Cage's statement about music not being an occasion for passivity:
"Most people think that when they hear a piece of music, they're not
doing anything but that something is being done to them. Now this
is not true, and we must arrange everything, I believe, so that people
realize that they themselves are doing it, and not that something is
being done to them."27
IV
One of the central themes in experimental music is improvisation.

And it is here that one sees so clearly the social aspect of experimental
music, related both to the transformation of the music apparatus and
to the desacralization of the musical work of art. Improvisation makes
cooperation and social behavior, in the best and highest senses, into
an aesthetic matter. By transposing concrete social issues and values
in this manner into the sphere of the aesthetic, the audience may
gain practice at observing social norms, the performer may gain
practice at behaving in social ways, but in a sphere free from the pay-
offs or the penalties that accompany asocial behavior in everyday life.
Historically, all forms of group music-making reflect types of social
behavior, kinds of social relationships, derived to a large extent from
current social practice, but wrought in the artwork in a form con-
sidered to be an ideal form of actual practice. In a Mozart string
quartet, for example, we have a series of relationships in an "ideal"
form, derived from current practice: however, the form of their
derivation, as Adorno has shown, is that of a negation of that practice.
Now the presence of the composer and of accepted, known "rules"
which govern all participants is itself part of that current practice,
and speaks of a world in which rules and values can be agreed upon,
at least among the class to whom the music is addressed. Improvised
experimental music does in relation to its current social practice
what a Mozart quartet did to its own; but the absence of an omni-
present and omniscient composer speaks now of a world in which the
precise form of the negation of current practice must be discovered,
in which there are few already-agreed-upon rules or values. Cornelius
27 Quoted in Nyman, Experimental Music, p. 21.
Cardew has spoken of those values that can be agreed upon in ad-
vance. He gives special place to self-discipline, which he sees as the
essential prerequisite for improvisation. Discipline is not to be seen as the ability
to conform to a rigid rule structure, but as the ability to work collectively with
other people in a harmonious and fruitful way. Integrity, self-reliance, initiative,
to be articulate (say, on an instrument) in a natural, direct way; these are the
qualities necessary for improvisation. Self-discipline is the necessary basis for the
desired spontaneity, where everything that occurs is heard and responded to with-
out the aid of arbitrarily controlled procedures and intellectual labour.28
To put this general argument in other terms: in traditional music,

the musical language is predetermined to a very great extent; it is a
donnte and to that extent a kind of "fate." In experimental music, on
the other hand, the notion of this pregiven "fate" is radically over-
thrown; the horizons of the musical language are established anew
with each piece, or at any rate each performance.
If the significance of improvisation in experimental music is
that it is "open" and without predesignation, without "fate," then
this privilege is made possible by the language of experimental (and
much avant-garde) music: a language more empty of connotation,
of grammar, than any musical language in the history of the West -
and therefore more full of possibilities for significance to be vested
in it. This absolute "openness" explains why as a matter of principle
anyone can enter into it; it also explains why the most remarkable
and undreamt-of significance can arise out of the combination of the
most apparently independent and disparate elements.
A musical experiment recently carried out at the University
of Natal aptly demonstrates this point. Four musicians, all with
experience in contemporary improvisation, and all of whom had
played together on previous occasions, undertook to perform a group
improvisation in circumstances where no player could hear any of
the others. Each player, with his instrument(s), was closeted alone in
a room remote from those of the other players; microphones and
contact microphones fed the sound produced in each room to a small
auditorium where the total sound was recorded on a four-channel
tape recorder (one channel for each player) and simultaneously

played to an audience through four independent loudspeakers. There
were absolutely no guidelines for the improvisation, except to play
"musically" and to attempt to "commune" inaudibly with the other
players; apart from this, the players had deliberately avoided dis-
28 Quoted in ibid., p. 107.
cussing anything beforehand (including the approximate length of

the performance.) It was clearly an experiment - the outcome was
unforeseeable, and three of the four players were sceptical in varying
degrees. The performance ended spontaneously after seventy-five
minutes, fifteen minutes after the first player had stopped. The
audience - and the players, on hearing the playback - were amazed.
The composite improvisation was an unqualified success in musical
terms: the musicians seemed unerringly to be playing as a group,
responding to each other with what appeared to be uncanny sens-
itivity. That each single player had improvised well was not in doubt
and not surprising; but that the playing of the four simultaneously
made a "piece" of such unfailing musical sense seemed to defy ex-
planation. Subsequently the tape recording of the event was sub-
jected to further experimentation. The four individual channels were
separated, and then rerecorded in various staggered ways: each single
improvisation starting one minute after the other, then another re-
cording with a five-minute delay after each beginning, and so on. The
discovery --in something approaching the natural-scientific sense
- was that each new combination yielded fresh musical significance
and continued to make good musical sense. The explanation, one
had finally to conclude, lay in the nature of the idiom: precisely be-
cause the idiom was free of pregiven content it was more adaptable,
more amenable to rearrangement, and more open to everchanging
significance being vested in it, than any earlier Western music.
It is worthy of observation that experimental music's avoidance
of predetermination and its search for a new language are two more
respects in which its program echoes that of Dada. By means of a
quotation from Apollinaire, Eluard (in his Dada phase) justified his
experiments with language:
O mouths, man is looking for a new language

No grammarian can legislate.
In Dada, the interest in and search for new meanings and a new
language to incarnate them went hand-in-hand with a belief in the
importance of what Breton called "objective chance," or what others
might call coincidence. The same nexus precisely is found in ex-
perimental music: the meaning to be incarnated is not predeterm-
ined, not even its "horizon" need be known in advance; but the
method by which it is to come into being is one that frequently, in-
deed almost always, involves a fundamental engagement with chance.
The emptying of sounds of their significance, fully achieved in ex-

perimental music today, follows directly upon the tradition of De-
bussy, Schoenberg, Webern, and others, where sounds progressively
lose their grammatical referential value, and become more empty
and open. As such, experimental music fulfills Adorno's criterion that
in a world where the accepted realms and procedures of meaning
are administered, art must not aim at "formal conceptual coherence,"
but rather "suspend," by its "mere appearance," the "rigid co-ordina-
tion-system of those people who submit themselves to authoritarian
rule."29 The function of art is defined dialectically, in terms of the
negative: "In the world of alien administration, the only adequate
form in which works of art are received is as the communication of
the incommunicable, the smashing of reified consciousness.'30 There-
fore, art (particularly, experimental music) is in revolt "against
positivist subordination of meaning"; it "jolts signification."3'
Such "jolts" - where the safe, taken-for-granted world is called
into question - are created by other, more obvious means too.
Cardew's Memories of You (1964) is an example. It is a piece for
piano solo, but the piano merely defines the orbit of the action.
Sounds are to be made, according to a specific notation, in the im-
mediate vicinity of a grand piano; the nature of the sounds is not
prescribed, so that the piece might well be performed without the
piano ever being played. Thus the grand piano becomes virtually a
mere reference point in the center of the performing area. The title
is neatly ironic. Other examples were provided by the Scratch Or-
chestra's performances of "popular classics." The draft constitution
of the orchestra, drawn up by Cardew in 1969, lists these classics as
one of the group's basic sources of repertoire:
Popular Classics. Only such works as are familiar to several members are eligible
for this category. Particles of the selected works will be gathered in Appendix 1.
A particle could be: a page of score, a page or more of the part for one instrument
or voice, a page of an arrangement, a thematic analysis, a gramophone record, etc.
The technique of performance is as follows: a qualified member plays the
given particle, while the remaining players join in as best they can, playing along,
29 Quoted in Phil Slater, "The Aesthetic Theory of the Frankfurt School,"
Cultural Studies, VI, 196.
30 Adorno, Asthetische Theorie (Frankfurt am Main, 1970), p. 292. Quoted in
Slater, loc. cit.
31 Adorno, "Commitment," New Left Review, LXXXVII-LXXXVIII (September-
December, 1974), 77.
contributing whatever they can recall of the work in question, filling the gaps
of memory with improvised variational material. As is appropriate to the classics,
avoid losing touch with the reading player (who may terminate the piece at his
discretion), and strive to act concertedly rather than independently. These works
should be programmed under their original titles.32
Such activities have much in common with Dada's "violations"

of sacrosanct works of art - the best known of which was Duchamps's
addition of moustaches and a goatee to the Mona Lisa. And both
these spring from a motive very similar to one of the motives under-
lying Brecht's epic theater: the alienation of the familiar. For aliena-
tion, says Brecht, "is necessary to all understanding. When something
seems the 'most obvious thing in the world' it means that any attempt
to understand it has been given up."33 The tyranny of the obvious
must be attacked: "what is 'natural' must have the force of what is
startling." In this way uncritical submission and empathy on the
part of the audience are prevented.
Such devices testify to an attitude to the audience entirely dif-
ferent from that manifested in previous art. There is now no attempt
to dominate or manipulate an audience. The actor's idea of the
audience, says Benjamin - and this applies equally to the per-
former's idea in experimental music - "is essentially different from
the animal-tamer's view of the beasts who inhabit his cage." These
are players "for whom effect is not an end but a means." Thus the
audience becomes "an assembly of interested persons" (rather than
"a collection of hypnotized test subjects"), the stage "a convenient
public exhibition area" (rather than "the planks which signify the
world"), and the text - again, alike for epic theater and exper-
imental music - "a grid on which, in the form of new formulations,
the gains of that performance are marked" (rather than "a basis of
that performance").34 In a performance of experimental music the
audience is not insidiously drawn into the music for the sake of a
profound emotional experience; indeed, the music inhibits precisely
such a response. Rather, as in epic theater, the audience "will quickly
feel impelled to take up an attitude to what it sees." In Brecht's
words, "once illusion is sacrificed to free discussion, and once the
spectator, instead of being enabled to have an experience, is forced
32 Cardew, "A Scratch Orchestra: Draft Constitution," in The Musical Times,

June, 1969, pp. 617-18.
33 "Theatre for Pleasure or Theatre for Instruction," Brecht on Theatre, p. 71.
34"'What Is Epic Theatre?" first version, pp. 10 and 3.
as it were to cast his vote; then a change has been launched which
goes far beyond formal matters and begins for the first time to affect
the theater's social function."35 The attitude of the audience for epic
theater - and, if my hypothesis is correct, for experimental music
as well - is one that Brecht characterized as that of "smoking-and-
watching." It is an attitude that brings about "a theatre full of ex-
perts, just as one has sporting arenas full of experts."36 But insofar
as it rejects the "direct impact" of Aristotelian aesthetics which "flat-
tens out all social and other distinctions between individuals," non-
Aristotelian drama (and music) rejects the notion of "a collective
entity," a "common humanity ... created in the auditorium for the
duration of the entertainment." Non-Aristotelian drama (and music)
"is not interested in the establishment of such an entity." In re-
quiring its audience to take up an attitude, to cast its vote, "it divides
its audience."37 Such an audience will be at the opposite extreme
from that stigmatized by Brecht in the following passage, however
exaggerated his portrayal of it:
Most 'advanced' music nowadays is still written for the concert hall. A single glance
at the audiences who attend concerts is enough to show how impossible it is to
make any political or philosophical use of music that produces such effects. We see
entire rows of human beings transported into a peculiar doped state, wholly
passive, sunk without trace, seemingly in the grip of a severe poisoning attack.
Their tense, congealed gaze shows that these people are the helpless and in-
voluntary victims of the unchecked lurchings of their emotions. Trickles of sweat
prove how such excesses exhaust them. The worst gangster film treats its audience
more like thinking beings. Music is cast in the role of Fate. As the exceedingly
complex, wholly unanalysable fate of this period of the grisliest, most deliberate
exploitation of man by man. Such music has nothing but purely culinary ambitions
left. It seduces the listener into an enervating, because unproductive, act of enjoy-
ment. No number of refinements can convince me that its social function is any
different from that of the Broadway burlesques.38
If for Brecht such occasions were characterized by hypnosis rather

than anything resembling autonomous thought, one of the ways he
hoped to begin to rekindle thought was by means of laughter. "Speak-
ing more precisely," wrote Benjamin, "spasms of the diaphragm
generally offer better chances for thought than spasms of the soul."
Like experimental music, "epic theatre is lavish only in the occasions
35 "The Modern Theatre Is Epic Theatre," Brecht on Theatre, p. 39.
:36 "The Literarization of the Theatre," p. 43.
37 "Indirect Impact of the Epic Theatre," Brecht on Theatre, p. 60. Italics in the
original.
38 "On the Use of Music in an Epic Theatre," Brecht on Theatre, p. 89.
it offers for laughter."39 One example of such humor in experimental

music is LaMonte Young's Piano Piece for David Tudor No. 1,
written in October, 1960:
Bring a bale of hay and a bucket of water onto the stage for the piano to eat
and drink. The performer may then feed the piano or leave it to eat by itself. If
the former, the piece is over after the piano has been fed. If the latter, it is over
after the piano eats or decides not to.
VI
Heinz-Klaus Metzger has written:

the term 'experimental music', if it is to be given any . . meaning, could refer
only to music which by its own terms of reference is an experimental arrange-
ment, and can therefore not foresee the results that will work out in performance.40
Experimental: the term itself suggests a music "fit for the scientific
age" - the condition Brecht required of theater. "An act the out-
come of which is unknown," Cage calls it. Cage also distinguishes
this music from music which is "a thing upon which attention is
focused." Experimental music requires something different: "the
attention moves towards the observation and audition of many things
at once, including those that are environmental - becomes, that is,
inclusive rather than exclusive."41 Some experimental music is aimed
explicitly at discovery in almost the natural-scientific sense --for
example, hearing the unhearable (Lucier's piece for the alpha
rhythms of the brain), or discovering the inherent characteristics
of a room or environment (Lucier's Vespers, and I Am Sitting in a
Room). In The Queen of the South Lucier explores those sounds that
are effective in making iron filings (or sugar or other granules) move
on flat surfaces responsive to sound. The piece bears an acknow-
ledgment to Hans Jenny, upon whose recent work it is evidently
based; Lucier's piece for alpha rhythms (Music for Solo Performer)
resulted, says Nyman, from the composer's "contact with the work
of physicist Edmond Dewan of the Air Force Cambridge Research
Lab in Bedford, Massachusetts who was engaged in brainwave re-
search in connection with flying"; and Lucier's Quasimodo the Great
39 "The Author as Producer," p. 101.

40 Mctzger, "Abortive Concepts in the Theory and Criticism of Music," Die Reihe,
V (1959), 27.
Lover reflects "the recent research into the communication system of

whales."42 A work such as LaMonte Young's The Tortoise, His
Dreams and Journeys represents what Nyman calls "a continuous
practical research into certain psycho-acoustical phenomena"; or, as
Young says, "To my knowledge there have been no previous studies
of the long-term effects of continuous periodic composite sound wave-
forms on people."43 A quite different way in which improvisation
may be experimental is, as Cardew has pointed out, its search for
sounds that operate subliminally rather than at a manifest cultural
level, and its investigation of the emotions that are stirred by such
sounds.
The scientific frame of mind of "what can we discover?" is thus
one of the central irreducible features of experimental music. The

active experience of this attitude is what cannot be captured on a
phonograph record, which therefore has "no more value than a post-
card" (Cage). Such a frame of mind is totally future-oriented: its sole
intention is to produce - in an attitude of open-minded, open-ended
discovery - the future. By comparison, Western traditional music
tells us what is, or has been, known or hoped or felt; its performances
reproduce the past.
The scientific attitude evinced here is not new to twentieth-
century art. Benjamin applauded film because it promoted the
mutual penetration of art and science, and noted: "it is difficult to
say which is more fascinating, its artistic value or its value for
science."Its capacity for discovery was to be located in two closely
related areas. Firstly, by the use of such techniques as the close-up, or
the focus on details that may be hidden from ordinary view, film
"extends our comprehension of the necessities which rule over our
lives." Secondly, by means of slow motion, its capacity for infinite
mobility, its "dynamite of the tenth of a second," film burst asunder
the prison world in which we appeared to be hopelessly locked. Ex-
perimental music does precisely the same. The microphone, contact-
microphone, amplifier, tape recorder, and shortwave radio have ex-
tended our comprehension and freed us from our auditory prison
world in an exactly analogous way. If the camera "introduces us to
unconscious optics as does psychoanalysis to unconscious impulses,'44
then the techniques of experimental music introduce us to uncon-
42 Ibid., p. 91.
43 Ibid., p. 123.
scious sound production and hearing. Dziga Vertov's marvelous

homage to the camera in his manifesto printed in the magazine LEF
in 1923 could stand, mutatis mutandis, as a homage to the
microphone:
I am an eye. I am a mechanical eye. I, the machine, show you a world the way only
I can see it. I free myself for today and forever from human immobility. I am in
constant movement. I approach and pull away from objects. I creep under them.
I move alongside a running horse's mouth. I cut into a crowd in full speed. I run
in front of running soldiers. I turn over on my back. I soar with an aeroplane.
I fall and rise with the falling and rising bodies. This is I, the machine, man-
oeuvring in the chaotic movements, recording one movement after another in the
most complex combinations. Freed from the obligation of shooting 16 to 17
frames per second, freed from the boundaries of time and space, I co-ordinate any
and all points of the universe, wherever I want them to be. My way leads towards
the creation of a fresh perception of the world. Thus I explain in a new way the
world unknown to you.
For Brecht, a scientific spirit of investigation had to be one of the

essential attributes of art in the twentieth century:
I must say that I do need the sciences. I have to admit that I look askance at all
sorts of people who I know do not operate on the level of scientific understanding:
that is to say, who sing as the birds sing, or as people imagine the birds to sing. I
don't mean by that that I would reject a charming poem about the taste of fried
fish or the delights of a boating party just because the writer had not studied
gastronomy or navigation. But in my view the great and complicated things that
go on in the world cannot be adequately recognized by people who do not use
every possible aid to understanding.45
Galileo, Brecht reminds us, saw a swinging chandelier; "he was

amazed by this pendulum in motion," and his amazement was pre-
cisely what enabled him to arrive at an understanding of the laws
that governed its movement. This "detached eye," according to
Brecht, is what theater audiences must develop; it is the job of the
playwright to put them in situations where this attitude is required
of them.'" In a piece composed in 1968 Steve Reich requires his.
audience to observe and listen to a number of pendulums in motion,
Microphones are suspended above loudspeakers, released simulta-
neously, and allowed to swing at their own speed. They feed back
through the speakers. The piece consists of a changing series of feed-
back pulses, shorter at the beginning and longer at the end when the
mikes swing more slowly; the piece ends with unbroken feedback
when all the mikes are at rest.
45 "Theatre for Pleasure or Theatre for Instruction," Brecht on Theatre, p. 73.

46 "A Short Organum for the Theatre," Brecht on Theatre, p. 192.
Brecht suggests that people today want "rational" entertainment

- what Benjamin called the "dramatic laboratory" - because of
"the whole radical transformation of the mentality of our time."
What is certain, he says, is that
the present-day world can only be described to present-day people if it is described

as capable of transformation. People of the present day value questions on account
of their answers. They are interested in events and situations in face of which
they can do something. ... In an age whose science is in a position to change
nature to such an extent as to make the world seem almost habitable, man can
no longer describe man as a victim, the object of a fixed but unknown environ-
ment. It is scarcely possible to conceive of the laws of motion if one looks at
them from a tennis ball's point of view.47
VII
Benjamin noted the existence of a profound dialectic in the de-

velopment of art:
One of the foremost tasks of art has always been the creation of a demand which
could be fully satisfied only later. The history of every art form shows critical
epochs in which a certain art form aspires to effects which could be fully obtained
only with a changed technical standard, that is to say, in a new art form. The
extravagances and crudities of art which thus appear, particularly in the so-called
decadent epochs, actually arise from the nucleus of its richest historical energies.
In recent years, such barbarisms were abundant in Dadaism. It is only now that its
impulse becomes discernible: Dadaism attempted to create by pictorial - and
literary - means the effects which the public today seeks in the film.48
This dialectic precisely defines the relationship between exper-

imental and avant-garde music: not a fruitless opposition but a fertile
and changing interplay between the more and the less radical, the
more and the less systematized. The two are complementary - in-
deed, possibly of necessity; one might ask whether either could exist
in its familiar form without the other. And this connectiorf points
to their relationship to the modern world: they are the twin parts
of what we might designate a quasi-scientific practice. In other words,
the one experiments, the other adopts; the latter has implications
("hypotheses") which the former explores (subjects to experiment).
If audience participation entered composition haphazardly and
47 "Can the Present-day World Be Reproduced by Means of Theatre?" Brecht on

Theatre, p. 275.
unpredictably in Cage's music (for example), then in an avant-garde

work such as Momente Stockhausen has composed this into the piece
as an integral and predetermined part of the structure. Even though
here it is not an actual audience that participates, the link between
the experiments of, say, Cage and Momente is nevertheless valid.
A more precise instance of experimental music influencing avant-
garde music is that of Stockhausen's contact with David Tudor. Their
acquaintance helped the composer formulate a new attitude to the
role of the interpreter in his own composed music - an attitude
which Tudor was able to impart because of his own deep involve-
ment in American experimental music which viewed the performer
in this way. For Tudor, as Karl Wdrner has pointed out, was not so
much a "performer" as a "partner," less an executant than a creative
accomplice. As such, he was quite different from Stockhausen's ideal
type of interpreter, who would perform an unambiguous score in
the prescribed, "correct" way. As a result of their encounters, Stock-
hausen came to see that a more "open" attitude towards the score
and a freer rein for the interpreter could achieve the decisive step of
reinvesting the performer with some of the responsibilities of crea-
tion. Around this time (1954/55) Stockhausen began writing works
that embody this new attitude.
But avant-garde music also provides aspects for experimental
music to contradict. The music of the avant-garde, in its purest or
most "classical" manifestation, is still exclusive in its skill orientation,
still elitist, whereas experimental music is, both in principle and
often in practice, inclusive and participatory. This difference is man-
ifested also in the different social status of the two musics: Boulez
is performed at the Royal Festival Hall, Cardew in Ealing Town
Hall; journals devoted to the avant-garde (e. g., Perspectives of New
Music) are academic in a conventional sense, those devoted to ex-
perimental music (e. g., Source) are iconoclastic and may even be
antiacademic in tendency; avant-garde composers tend to be re-
spected "establishment" figures, while experimental composers are,
if anything, members of the "antiestablishment."
Perhaps more than any other contemporary composer, Stock-
hausen exists at the point where the dialectic between experimental
and avant-garde music becomes manifest; it is in him, more obviously
than anywhere else, that these diverse approaches converge. This
alone would seem to suggest his remarkable significance. Of Boulez,
Stockhausen has said: "His objective is the work of art, mine is
rather its workings." And of Cage: "A composer who draws attention
to himself more by his actions than by his productions."" 49 Thus the
following polarity of extremes and their confluence emerges:
CAGE STOCKHAUSEN BOULEZ
actionsthe workings of art the work of art

It is worth stressing that the underlying unity of these extremes is
not in question and is after all what makes the dialectic possible. This
unity is summed up in Morton Feldman's recent observations:
What music rhapsodizes in today's 'cool' language, is its own construction. The
fact that men like Boulez and Cage represent opposite extremes of modern
methodology is not what is interesting. What is interesting is their similarity. In
the music of both men, things are exactly what they are - no more, no less. In
the music of both men, what is heard is indistinguishable from its process. In
fact, process itself might be called the Zeitgeist of our age. The duality of precise
means creating indeterminate emotions is now associated only with the past.50
VIII
The episodic character of experimental music and avant-garde

music ("moment form" for example) has often been noted. In this
respect, too, music corresponds to the new technical forms: cinema,
radio, television, and the press. And this is one further feature it
shares with epic theater. The connection between Brecht's theater
and the new technical forms was sketched by Benjamin:
In film, the theory has become more and more accepted that the audience
should be able to 'come in' at any point, that complicated plot developments
should be avoided and that each part, besides the value it has for the whole,
should also possess its own episodic value. For radio, with its public which can
freely switch on or off at any moment, this becomes a strict necessity. Epic theatre
introduces the same practice on the stage. For epic theatre, as a matter of principle,
there is no such thing as a latecomer.51
Advanced literature in the twentieth century has also been episodic.

Significantly, Ulysses was one of Brecht's favorite books. Michel
Butor admitted that he had never read Finnegan's Wake right
49 Quoted in Karl W6rner, Stockhausen: Life and Work, trans. Bill Hopkins,
(London, 1973), pp. 229 and 236.
51 "What Is Epic Theatre?" first version, p. 6.
through; he claimed that an episodic approach to the book was the

correct approach, because one had to collaborate with the text by re-
constituting it for oneself, uniquely. "The aesthetic object," Eduardo
Sanguineti comments, "is no longer a complete thing which is placed
in front of the spectator."52
IX
If some experimental situations are trivial or patently absurd,

this may not necessarily be a bad thing, especially if one views them
as experimental occasions. It is part of a scientific frame of mind to
realize that experiments may fail or be inappropriate, and that there
is something to be learned from these failures. And if one views the
relationship between experimental and avant-garde music as sym-
biotic, then such failures may actually be necessary and inevitable in
the development of a healthy and creative modern musical culture.
Besides, frequent involvement with the progressive (questioning,
socializing) aspects of experimental music may inculcate desirable
new habits of perception, expectation, and response in audiences. To
claim this is no more than Benjamin claimed in arguing for the im-
portance of film despite its frequently trivial content. Film, par ex-
cellence (he maintained), has developed new habits in audiences, and
these habits amount to a change in perception. The audience on a
mass scale now participates; the aura has been wiped out; and mem-
bers of the audience now habitually see themselves and their relation-
ships to each other and to the artwork in a new way. This could not
have been achieved by contemplation alone. Therefore we should
not be too concerned if much film content is disreputable. For film
abolishes cult value and inaugurates the era in which the audience
is at once final critic and true coauthor.53 The very same is true of
experimental music.
52 Sanguineti, "The Sociology of the Avant-Garde," in E. and T. Burns, eds.,

Sociology of Literature and Drama (Harmondsworth, Middlesex, 1973), p. 395.
53 "The Work of Art," pp. 241-43.

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Towards an Aesthetic of Experimental Music

Author(s): Christopher Ballantine

EXPERIMENTAL music patently lacks an articulate aesthetic.

Advances in modern technology have precipitated a crisis for art,

1 Richard Middleton in Music and Letters, LVI/1 (January, 1975), 85-86.

Walter Benjamin placed this quotation at the head of his justly

concert-hall music" to "a form of production made obsolete and over-

2 Valkry, "The Conquest of Ubiquity," Aesthetics, trans. Ralph Mannheim (New

the Babylonian exile of a praxis which has nothing to do with the

5 "What Is Epic Theatre?" first version, Understanding Brecht, p. 3.

able of assimilating, indeed of propagating, an astonishing amount of

Does experimental music show evidence of improving the ap-

Community music of a different kind is provided by the environ-

Closer to a traditional concert situation, but negating it at every turn,

number of non-musicians playing anything." Some of Cornelius

Such an arrangement, Cardew has commented, "fosters communal

14 Nyman, Experimental Music: Cage and Beyond (London, 1974), p. 114.

Similar changes can be discerned in the theater, notably in the work

17 "The Work of Art," p. 233.

itself." Thus the theater's apparatus falsifies; for economic reasons

The Dadaists sacrificed market values by means of what Benjamin

22 "The Literarization of the Theatre," Brecht on Theatre, p. 43.

but by situating the phenomenon of "closeness" at the very root and

the desacralization of art. "The point at issue in the theatre today,"

Nowhere is the desacralization of contemporary art clearer than in

26 "What Is Epic Theatre?" first version, p. 1.

One of the central themes in experimental music is improvisation.

27 Quoted in Nyman, Experimental Music, p. 21.

To put this general argument in other terms: in traditional music,

tape recorder (one channel for each player) and simultaneously

cussing anything beforehand (including the approximate length of

O mouths, man is looking for a new language

The emptying of sounds of their significance, fully achieved in ex-

Such activities have much in common with Dada's "violations"

32 Cardew, "A Scratch Orchestra: Draft Constitution," in The Musical Times,

If for Brecht such occasions were characterized by hypnosis rather

it offers for laughter."39 One example of such humor in experimental

Heinz-Klaus Metzger has written:

39 "The Author as Producer," p. 101.

Lover reflects "the recent research into the communication system of

one of the central irreducible features of experimental music. The

scious sound production and hearing. Dziga Vertov's marvelous

For Brecht, a scientific spirit of investigation had to be one of the

Galileo, Brecht reminds us, saw a swinging chandelier; "he was

45 "Theatre for Pleasure or Theatre for Instruction," Brecht on Theatre, p. 73.

Brecht suggests that people today want "rational" entertainment

the present-day world can only be described to present-day people if it is described

Benjamin noted the existence of a profound dialectic in the de-

This dialectic precisely defines the relationship between exper-

47 "Can the Present-day World Be Reproduced by Means of Theatre?" Brecht on

unpredictably in Cage's music (for example), then in an avant-garde

CAGE STOCKHAUSEN BOULEZ

actionsthe workings of art the work of art

The episodic character of experimental music and avant-garde

Advanced literature in the twentieth century has also been episodic.

through; he claimed that an episodic approach to the book was the

If some experimental situations are trivial or patently absurd,

52 Sanguineti, "The Sociology of the Avant-Garde," in E. and T. Burns, eds.,

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