David Rothenberg’s musical work includes various animals. Or rather: it is highly dependent on the interaction and sonic material provided by nature. Does Rothenberg merely make us listen to the sounds not only of nature, but of specific animals? Is his work purely a stratagem to raise environmental awareness in us humans?
I think the answer to this is yes and no: the significance of Rothenberg’s work is much greater than this. In my book, Rothenberg seeks not only to raise awareness to nature in and around us but doing this also attempts a redefinition of the genius. In the heyday of what we today most commonly define as classical music, starting from the Renaissance period, the composer was the indisputable, genius of his work – it is his creative, imaginative prowess that creates musical masterpieces, the only thinkable creative help being God’s benevolence. More recently, some theorists and composers started seeing the composer rather as a vessel, filter, and receiver for sound spheres present; the results of his work were increasingly perceived as being dependent on outside influences, technology, and, in a certain degree, randomness. For example, Pauline Oliveros could play all the melodies she wanted, but the final product, e.g. Lear, very much dependent on the frequencies and echoes produced by the flood protection cisterns she played them into. Even though the final product would not have been conceivable without these environmental factors (such as space, or John Cage’s infamous piece of wood), both the original input and the final product were still, in most cases, determined by the composer.
With David Rothenberg, an inversion of this relationship takes place. The human composer-musician is still able to provide input and select certain passages for publication – but for sonic material, he is highly dependent on the interaction of nature, whether in the form of birds, insects, or whales. The human actor needs to subordinate themselves under the direction of a natural actor, otherwise there would be no musical communication – as exemplified by the numerous luckless endeavors of Rothenberg to get a whale to “jam” with him. In this case, the human composer becomes highly dependent on the cooperation of an intelligent sea mammal. Therefore, what do we learn from David Rothenberg’s efforts? First, that there is not only sound or noise in nature, but that nature’s sonic products can very much agree with human definitions of music, even if it might sound strange to the average person. Second, that nature can become the “genius,” leaving the human composer in a subordinate role. Third, that interacting with nature in this way can open up entirely new, almost alien seeming sound spheres.
So, is Rothenberg’s “whale music” something one would listen to as a piece of enjoyable music in its own right? Perhaps (not), but in my opinion the most important result of his work is not necessarily its qualities of beauty; Rather, the experiences Rothenberg shares with us are impressive truth of the intelligence that can be found in nature. It is not only humans but – in this case – some highly developed sea mammals that are capable of producing musical utterings filled with sense, rhythm, and melody, more than random patterns or the pre-determined motifs that some birds produce. To return to my question from the beginning: Yes, there is undoubtedly an environmentalist message in Rothenberg’s work, namely to respect nature as something beautiful and worthy in its own right. However, I would also maintain that his findings suggest that music that does necessarily originates from a human genius, but that the work of human composers are but one part of the beautiful sounds and music that exist all around us.
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