John Cage's Eight - A sonic hour of (un)noise

I had already listened to some of Cage's early works and of course had come across the most unavoidable piece of 20th century art music, 4'33'' (which is also one of the most mind-blowing), but "Eight" and all of Cage's number pieces were new to me. Before I began listening, I had to set some ground rules for myself. After all, this was one hour of music - or of some unforeseen kind of auditory experience - waiting for me, in a time where distractions are everywhere. Where and when do I listen? Is it okay to stop and resume listening or would I have to restart the whole thing?

To prevent being confronted by some Wagnerian complexity of little cues and big themes being introduced and revisited, I opted to find out what the number pieces were all about before commencing my journey. Their respective titles reference the number of performers involved. "Eight" is composed for four woodwinds (flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon) and four brass instruments (horn, trumpet, tenor trombone, tuba). The score consists of short fragments, usually one or two notes played by a single instrument, along with time indications of when a fragment can start and by what time it should end.  

Armed with this information, I went for a walk in the woods and listened to the whole thing, start to finish, without a distracting cellphone. For the first few minutes, I was totally unsure of what to even make of the experience - and how to reflect it. "Eight" starts out with some kind of overture, several (probably five) instruments playing at the same time. All of them only play single notes of varying length without a tonal center, but it still feels like an introduction as they gradually fade out. Sadly, this whole idea collapses around the minute mark. After endless seconds of nothingness, two more similar sequences follow. Afterwards, at around the 3:30 mark, long held notes take over and stay prevalent until the end. Usually, one instrument creates a drone while one or two others play a quick note on top.

I began looking for patterns, maybe growing signs of dissonance or dynamics, notes repeated by the same instruments, but there were none. It was then that I realized that this was not about interpreting music the way one learns it in school, but about understanding the basic idea of sound, of noise and un-noise. The Foo Fighters' album "Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace" came to my mind. Cage employs well-known orchestral instruments for his own vision: Playing for the sake of music, not against each other, not with each other, just along each other. There is no climax to anticipate, no tonal center to revisit or leave behind, just sound along an axis of time, made by humans, for whoever dares to listen. The silence in between two notes is as important as the notes played themselves. There is a musical score, written in a way that professional players can read it, and there are eight orchestral instruments needed to play it, but this is where what one knows about composition ends. Instead of breaking or reinventing the rules, Cage abandones them. He uses the framework of Western music and creates something completely new out of it. I cannot say that I enjoyed the sonic experience, but it kept me wondering, and I was surprised how fast an hour can go by.