So tell me, where am I missing something? Because I fear that I don't "get" Steve Reich. At least, not all the time. And that's bad news, because I just made my debut as a performer in one of his best-known pieces.
Not my debut as a performer full stop, note. I have done my twirls and turns in a few things up till now, from playing Shakespeare's Richard III at school to a one-night stint in Les Misérables on London's famous Shaftesbury Avenue (on, not in, I wasn't just busking outside, I promise). But Saturday morning, as I enjoyed the percussion-and-more interpretations of Joby Burgess at the Classical:NEXT music industry conference in Vienna, I found myself suddenly thrust into the limelight.
Burgess explained that he was going to revisit Reich's iconic My Name Is. Back in 1967 when he first dreamed up the idea, Reich and colleagues recorded a dozen audience members on their way into a concert, asking them the question, "What is your name?" and receiving the answer "My name is [and then the name]." During the first half of that concert engineers spliced together the tapes in a basement, producing a radical remix of the responses, which was played back in the concert's second half.
This time, Burgess told us, digital technology would allow he and his sound designer to do the mixing live, in real time. He set about collecting his responses. I was the third responder. "My name is James" I intoned dutifully, in what I hoped was a firm but not ostentatious bass-baritone (well, that's what I was aiming for--I wasn't given enough notice to warm up). The last person asked was called Allegra. I know that because the fact of her name was immediately played back to us all, and then about a hundred times in quick succession. Followed by the rest of us, singly or in tandem or in opposition or as a new rhythmic subject.
To begin with, I thought it was brilliant. And it is, in both senses of the word. Brilliantly inventive, brilliant like a bright light that one cannot possibly ignore. After some minutes I wished one could. This, I thought at one point, is what white noise torture must be like. Imagine hours of having to listen to myself say "My name is James" again and again and again and again and again and again. And. And. And. And. Againagainagainagainagainagain.
That's what it was like. There were revelations in there. "My name is Allegra" at one point turned, for me, into "I need this I need this I need this." And there were other fascinating confusions. But the whole thing (in stark contrast to Burgess' two other dazzling, and fun, performances) was cumulatively uncomfortable. Maybe it is supposed to be. Who says that music has to be pleasant? It got me thinking about torture and perhaps that's no bad thing--I mean that in all seriousness.
Anyway, I now officially have a Steve Reich work in my rep-list. And I worry that, with powerful exceptions such as Daniel Variations, Different Trains and some others, I don't get him. Or does he just not get me?
