Philip Glass - Music in Twelve Parts

 

Similarly to Steve Reich, American composer and pianist Philip Glass, who celebrated his 85^th birthday just five days ago, is believed to be one of minimal music´s pioneering figures.

As a composer Glass famously operates between the poles of complexity and simplicity. The propensity to operate somewhere between these extremes within the deceleration of a repetitive framework is undoubtedly recognizable not only in his opera Einstein on the Beach (first performed in 1976) but throughout the composition Music in Twelve Parts written between 1971 and 1974.  

Jumping right into part ten of Music in Twelve Parts feels like watching a film noir beginning in medias res.  One gets the impression that something must have happened before. However, the idea that there consequently must be a storyline unfolding is genuinely being disappointed by Glass who instead builds up a soundscape, entirely eluding itself form of any plot driven storyline and respective interpretations. Thus, the focus lies on the form itself and fosters sensibility for even the smallest evolvement as well as rhythmic or tonal changes. As a certain tempo and rhythm has already been established in part ten of Music in Twelve Parts, the piece seems to be set in the middle of an ongoing process, so that it promises progression and reminiscent repetition at the same. The suspicion holds true as the piece slowly evolves in almost unperceivable ever-changing patterns. One has the impression that the repetitive phrases are merely subject to subtle changes compelled by the introduction of additional instruments and layers that blend in smoothly with the ongoing organ sounds. Although a clear development can be traced, the underlying rhythmic structure and tone of the piece is maintained for the length of the piece.  The everchanging variation of pattern promotes a certain uneasiness that due to the reliability suggested through repetition of sound and rhythm eventually evolves into a soothing soundscape. After just a few minutes the piece casts a spell over its listeners and unites disorientation and conclusiveness through quick and subtle, yet hasty and dominant progressions. The soundscape is shaped by an increasing densification, amplified by vibrant tones that collide and blur into each other. Changing speed and intensity create subtle tension and captivate the listeners attention. Besides, Glass piece triggers numerous (more or less) related associations, such as the one of an alarm going off or – to be more precisely – many alarms going off at the same time. This effect does eventually remind me of the beginning of Pink Floyd´s Time, as released on The Dark Side of the Moon in 1973. However, Glass´s composition bears no resemblance with classical, analogue ringtones but seems to reference them in a rather electronic fashion, evoking associations of a tired car alarm or a broken machine. Still, the overlapping of tones and melodies gradually builds up an orchestra like atmosphere, that in its consequent repetition and overlapping of sequences seemingly sets the scene for the loop techniques applied by contemporary electronic artists, who implicitly and explicitly continue to reference artists such as Glass or Reich down to the present day.