November 25, 2009
“Running! If there’s any activity happier, more exhilarating, more nourishing to the imagination, I can’t think of what it might be. In running the mind flees with the body, the mysterious efflorescence of language seems to pulse in the brain, in rhythm with our feet and the swinging of our arms.” – Joyce Carol Oates
I am running the LA Marathon in March. 26.2 miles starting at Dodger Stadium and ending at the Santa Monica Pier. After I had registered, I found out that it’s on the weekend of our hope concert. . . so if you see a LACO staff member that weekend with a beard, glasses, and legs that look to be made of rubber, come up and say hi.
My official training regimen starts on the Monday after Thanksgiving — which means I can eat as much as I want on Thanksgiving, right? — and I really don’t think I could make it through the many long runs ahead without having music to motivate me. While songs like “Eye of the Tiger” or “Baba O’Reilly” help when you just need to push yourself that last 400m, for those long distances, I always listen to Steve Reich.
Minimalist music tends to sit firmly in love-it-or-hate-it territory; there’s never any middle ground when it comes to personal opinions about it. I can understand some of the complaints detractors make — yes, there is little variation in rhythm, color, instrumentation, or melody, but isn’t that what makes it interesting? You have to look in the cracks to find the changes, you have to be carried along by it and forget your preconceived notions of what music “should” do. As my fellow Development Associate Jessie said, “you have to be in a zen place to appreciate it.” (In the interest of full disclosure, I will admit that I’m not a huge Philip Glass fan. I left after Act I of the Metropolitan Opera’s production of Satyagraha—a person can only take so much C Major & 4/4 without pause before they go a little nuts.)
But back to Reich. To use a clichéd phrase, his music, like running, is about the journey and not the destination. The epic Music for 18 Musicians (1974) unfolds over an hour — a melodic germ of open fifths repeated on a marimba opens and closes the work, instruments and voices fade in and out, creating new sounds and moving the music in unexpected ways. Which is like running, right? You’re always moving forwards in a constant way, but around every corner is something different. You have to give in to what’s ahead of you, what’s to come; you can’t be thinking just in the here-and-now or you’ll bog down in thoughts of “why does my left leg keep cramping?” or “I’m tired of D major, when is the key going to change?”
I’m certainly not trying to say that feeling pain and listening to Music for 18 Musicians are similar (some of you might want to fight me on that point), but both running and minimalism require a desire to look at something as a whole, not just as a trip from point A to point B. One of my composition teachers told me that the best way to approach a piece you’re just beginning to write is to look at it from above — have an image in your mind of how each section will lead into the next, think in terms of gestures not specific notes, and “don’t sweat the small stuff.” This advice is surprisingly similar to encouragement my high school cross country coach would give us on race day, telling us not to see a hill ahead and think about the pain of running over it, but instead think through the hill and see the hill as it sits in the context of the rest of the course.
So the next time you’re going for a long run or drive or hike, you know what soundtrack I recommend. If you’re looking for some good dip-your-toe-in-minimalist-water-and-see-if-you-like-it introductory pieces, I recommend the following by Reich:
You Are (Variations) A commission and premiere by the LA Master Chorale. More varied than you might think, and full of interesting text settings (pulling words apart, setting only isolated syllables). (Fun side note—LACO musicians Wade Culbreath, Tamara Hatwan, Oscar Hidalgo, and Victoria Miskolcsky are musicians on the recording!)
Eight Lines Minimalism with energy and excitement, and a forward propulsion that always makes me think of riding the New York subway.
Music for Mallet Instruments, Voices and Organ Using only three types of instruments, Reich gets an array of great sounds and textures.
How do all of you in the blogosphere react to minimalism? And what do you listen to while running?
2 comments
Music for 18 Musicians is one of my favorite modern pieces of music. For me, Reich's work, although simplistic and repetitive, really makes me reflect inwardly and cycle through all the feelings and thoughts that I am carrying with me at that moment. I think I experience a different emotion each time I listen.
Good luck in the marathon this Spring! Happy training!
Well i don't run (unless being chased) but i do walk very fast up hills in my neighborhood or the park, and do self-defense training. Exercise listening standbys include The Prodigy and Ladytron (i tend to listen to one thing over and over for a while and then switch). The Chemical Brothers are also a good bet for getting your butt moving, as are The Clash.
It's funny - i can imagine Reich being good running music, but for me Music for 18, and Music for Mallet Instruments are my calming, not get-me-going, pieces.