Alexander Calder: Performing Sculpture @ Tate Modern

This is a much more fun, exuberant and uplifting exhibition than I expected. Also more varied.

Alexander Calder biography

Born in Pennsyslvania in 1898, the son of a sculptor father and artist mother, Calder showed promise in art from an early age but took a degree in mechanical engineering in 1919. During the 1920s he got work sketching for various periodicals including the Police Gazette, for which he sketched the Barnum and Bailey Circus. In 1926 he moved to Paris to study art and quickly became friends with various masters of Modernism, including Fernand Léger, Jean Arp, and Marcel Duchamp. Apparently, many were first attracted by his model circus in which he got various scale models of performers to put on circus acts, contraptions and wind-up devices with a charming Heath-Robinson air to them.

Much later, in the 1950s, a film was made of Calder recreating these early performances – the full 43 minutes is yours for £22 from the Tate shop.

But at the same time, Calder was also experimenting with larger scale subjects and with mediums and materials. In particular he was systematically exploring the potential of creating figure from wire and room one contains some striking examples of his early experiments. He seems to have leaped completely free of the Western tradition before the exhibition even starts: the earliest samples show him using strong wire to create very evocative three dimensional shapes, outlines, silhouettes:

Flat 2D photos don’t do any justice to their lightness, the way the works are (obviously) completely transparent, yet shaped so accurately and cleverly that they are brilliant evocations of their subjects. Also, many of them were cunningly made to move. At the bottom right of Goldfish you can see a bit of metal sticking out which is actually a handle: turn it and, via a simple cog mechanism, it turns the horizontal wires further up which make the goldfish rotate. Strongly related to the Heath-Robinson mentality of the Calder Circus, it marks an interest in moving sculpture which lasted his whole career.

Room 2

A small one with just one work, Small Sphere and Heavy Sphere (1932/3), basically two balls suspended from the ceiling on string or twine, and a few boxes and bottles of wine on the floor. You push the heavier ball and it and the other one begin to rotate and move in a series of unpredictable movements, knocking against the objects, creating sounds, thuds and notes.

You can see from this the interest in sound and sculpture, in movement, in abstraction.

Room 3

This goes back a bit to explain Calder’s ongoing fascination with the circus and performers. Quite a large room it contains about 20 examples of his early wire frame versions of the human figure, of wonderful circus performs, interspersed with amazingly evocative portraits of his friends in the avant-garde, Léger, Varèse, Miro and so on. Both circus performers and portraits are brilliantly done.

Their brightness and (literally) openness, their naivety and cunning, reminded me of the poetry of ee cummings.

Room 4

This tells the story of Calder’s visit to the studio of Piet Mondrian in 1930. At a stroke Calder grasped the meaning and potential of pure abstraction. (As a side note, Calder apparently said to Mondrian, wouldn’t it be great to take his coloured squares and set them in motion; Mondrian was seriously shocked and, apparently, replied: ‘My painting is already fast enough.’ Fast. What a brilliant description of Mondrian’s utterly static images. What an insight into his perception of them.) Suddenly Calder began applying all his figurative and engineering skills to making wire and colour abstract sculptures.

  • Object with red ball The white horizontal rod can be moved up and down. The strings holding the red and black balls can be moved forward or back.
  • Small feathers (1931)
Red and Yellow Vane (1934) by Alexander Calder. Calder Foundation, New York, NY, USA. Photo credit: Calder Foundation, New York / Art Resource, NY © ARS, NY and DACS, London 2014

Red and Yellow Vane (1934) by Alexander Calder. Calder Foundation, New York, NY, USA. Photo credit: Calder Foundation, New York / Art Resource, NY © ARS, NY and DACS, London 2014

In these works you can see the wire bending and twisting technique of the earlier figures redirected into creating abstract objects, coloured with primary colours. Experiments in shape and form, just as countless Modernist painters were experimenting with the same. But what if he combined these abstract designs with his interest in mechanisms, clockwork, rails, cogs and pulleys, which had featured so heavily in his famous circus contraptions?

Room 5

This brings together a collection of shapes cut in metal, coloured black and red and yellow, some on spindly mobile hangers but other consisting of sheets of metal or blocks, all of which have hidden mechanisms to make them move, rotate, corkscrew, up and around, pinging and looping in as many directions as he could devise. Kinetic art.

Disappointingly, all of them are now too fragile to work. Frankly, I’d have expected Tate to have the resources to recreate one or two actual working replicas, most of them were only a couple of feet big. Also, interesting though they may have been when they moved, static they are just assemblages of metal with half-concealed machinery. The exhibition commentary said Calder tired of the limited possibilities of mechanical sculptures. I’d have thought he also realised how limited it was in size.

It was, apparently, in a visit to Calder’s studio in 1930 that notorious modernist Marcel Duchamp described these works as ‘mobiles’. They moved. In 1933 Calder moved back to the States, buying a big farmhouse in Roxbury, Connecticut with his wife, Louisa.

Room 6

After the move, Calder became interested in hanging coloured shapes themselves against a coloured background or block. The curators are pleased that Room 6 brings together a number of these works which have rarely if ever been exhibited before.

White Panel (1936) by Alexander Calder. Calder Foundation, New York, NY, USA. Photo credit: Calder Foundation, New York / Art Resource, NY. © ARS, NY and DACS, London 2014

White Panel (1936) by Alexander Calder. Calder Foundation, New York, NY, USA. Photo credit: Calder Foundation, New York / Art Resource, NY. © ARS, NY and DACS, London 2014

They have the abstract, vaguely zoomorphic feel of Matisse’s cutouts, and the same bright primary colouring. It is calming to stand in front of them and watch the shapes, suspended by wires from horizontal bars, slowly twisting in the slight ambient air movement in front of more bright colours. Relaxing, interesting – but you know this isn’t yet the full thing, the works he’s famous for.

Room 7

The narrow Room 7 also has an interim feel. It records Calder’s display at the 1937 Pavilion of the Spanish Republic at the International Exposition in Paris. There was a massive photo of Calder standing beside the abstract fountain he created to run with mercury, and in front of Picasso’s Guernica, at its debut.

In 1939 Calder exhibited at the New York World’s Fair. For this he created maquettes for proposed enormous sculptures of abstract shapes which would have moved and animated in choreographed movement. From his earliest Calder circus via the hand-cranked wire figures and the mechanized shapes in room 5, Calder consistently showed interest in sculpture that moves.

Room 8

Dedicated to mobiles with the theme of the universe, stars and planets and solar systems. He made a series of Constellations, featuring pieces of painted wood connected by steel rods.

Along one wall are objects which look like astrolabes, globes of wire, with blocks and objects attached. The most commentaried work is Universe. Along circles of wire, two small balls move in different timings thus creating a complex cycle which, apparently took 40 minutes to completely finish.

Calder is quoted numerous times saying how much the notion of moving parts, objects, elements in a sculpture fascinated him. This made it all the more frustrating that all the works in this room, as all the mechanical examples earlier, are completely static. Surely it is not beyond the wit of man to create an actually moving version of Universe for us to marvel at.

Room 9

Interesting though all the previous work has bee, it is only in room 9 that you feel you have finally arrived. It is a big room and it is packed with the final, mature version of the classic mobile design – ‘an elegantly balanced network of wires and painted pieces of metal, suspended from the ceiling’ (as the catalogue puts it). The room holds a dozen or more large, abstract, impressive, slowly moving mobiles which create an overwhelming impact.

This is the room to loiter in and slowly walk from one work to the next, savouring their shapes and achievement, for it is fascinating to see these mature mobiles after having followed the evolution of Calder’s work, the development of his thinking, his experiments with all sorts of unconventional sculptures – all to get to this point.

Antennae with Red and Blue Dots (1953) by Alexander Calder. Tate © ARS, NY and DACS, London 2015

Antennae with Red and Blue Dots (1953) by Alexander Calder. Tate © ARS, NY and DACS, London 2015

Free of the limitations of motors or cranks, therefore free to be as large as the main cable can bear, free to move but in complex and unpredictable interactions. Of about 15 big examples which fill the room, maybe the highlights are:

It’s amazing how completely finished and achieved and right these works feel, slowly slowly rotating and barely spinning in the cool air movements of the gallery. Like Miro he has achieved a completely persuasive language of abstraction, hinting and gesturing towards all kinds of other things and yet entirely self-contained. It feels like a universal language, a language anyone can speak.

Music or the incorporation of sound, as well as movement, had always been an interest of Calder’s. From early abstracts like Small Sphere and Heavy Sphere through various musical collaborations. Much earlier we were shown the large abstract set designs Calder created for a production of Erik Satie’s symphonic drama Socrate. In the 1940s Calder created mobiles incorporating small gongs of different pitches, with small beaters on nearby suspensions so that the movement of air produces random notes. I guess the domesticated version of this is the common wind chime.

The gong works are part of the long interplay Calder had throughout his career with avant-garde composers: remember his wire portrait of Varèse from one of the earlier rooms, and the commentary points out he worked with choreographer Martha Graham and was part of the circle including experimental composer John Cage, the great proponent of randomness and chance in composition.

Triple Gong (c.1948) by Alexander Calder. Calder Foundation, New York, NY, USA. Photo credit: Calder Foundation, New York / Art Resource, NY © ARS, NY and DACS, London 2015

Triple Gong (c.1948) by Alexander Calder. Calder Foundation, New York, NY, USA. Photo credit: Calder Foundation, New York / Art Resource, NY © ARS, NY and DACS, London 2015

In fact, for the exhibition Tate recreated a piece Calder worked on with composer Earle Brown, titled Calder Piece from 1963. The music was designed to incorporate Calder’s mobile piece Chef d’orchestre, and the whole was staged and performed in the Turbine Hall in November 2015.

Room 11

This contains one really big specimen, Black Widow, three and a half metres tall, designed to fill the atrium of the Institute of Architects in Sao Paolo. What a journey the exhibition has taken us on from cranky little handmade circus figures in the mid-twenties to monumental sculptures fit to set off official architecture, less than twenty years later.


Related links

Other Surrealism reviews

More Tate Modern reviews

The Rest Is Noise 8: Post-War World

To the South Bank for the eighth study weekend in their year-long The Rest Is Noise festival; this weekend it’s the Post-War World ie the radical avant-garde music created in Europe immediately after World War II, focusing on composers from the Darmstadt School and especially on Karlheinz Stockhausen and Pierre Boulez. As usual Saturday and Sunday kicked off at 10am and each day was packed with lectures, workshops, film screenings leading up to an evening performance of key works.

Saturday 5 October

Breakfast with Stockhausen Enthusiastic animateur Fraser Trainer gave us a thorough backgrounding in the birth of electronic music. In 1945 music was a vacuum in Europe. Key composers had fled to America – Stravinsky, Bartok, Hindemith. Strauss was old and discredited. From the gap emerged an angry young generation determined to turn their back on the traditions of Romanticism and nationalism which had brought Europe to destruction. Stockhausen was drafted, aged 16, to ambulance duty where he saw horrors. The electronic manipulation of sound was just beginning, pioneered by Pierre Schaeffer in Paris. Radio was improving its technology. Long playing records were introduced in 1948. Stockhausen in particular took to this brave new technological environment and immersed himself in the physics of sound, using the new devices to investigate the properties of frequency, phase and amplitude, as well as the overtones created by the human voice – analysing the colour components of every noise the human voice can make, defining every element and then cunningly combining them in new and completely abstract ways. An early result was Gesang der Jünglinge (1956), which took over a year to create note by note, phrase by phrase, effect by effect. He recorded a 12 year old choir boy singing phrases from the book of Daniel, then manipulated them to be broadcast through 5 loudspeakers.

Fraser’s assistant got a volunteer from the audience to say a few words and then used her laptop music editing program to quickly create the kind of sound affects it took Stockhausen and his engineers weeks to create 60 years ago.

Donald Sassoon – from the War to the Wall Despite his name Donald turned out to be Italian, smooth, witty, charming, he took us on an entertaining tour of post war popular culture (top grossing films, James Bond novels etc), comparing Western with Eastern cultural products: his conclusion was that, whatever politicians and newspapers blared about the Cold War, on the level of popular culture both Eastern and Western popular culture largely ignored the Cold War; in fact popular narratives often shared the same shapes of lone heroes overcoming either i) the Nazis (everyone’s favourite baddies) ii) the bureaucracy; fighting the system. Suggestive thought that at bottom both sides of the iron Curtain were experiencing the same Rise of Managerial Bureaucracy.

Robert Worby – the Birth of Electronic Music By far the best presentation of the day, composer, writer and Radio 3 broadcaster Worby went back to basics: he showed just one slide which listed the physical characteristics of sound: Pitch (described by physicists as sine waves). Duration. Volume (described by physicists as amplitude). Timbre (also known in music jargon as ‘colour’). Location. Stockhausen et al set out to investigate the physical properties and combinatorial possibilities of each of these elements.

Worby explained there is a lack of vocabulary to describe these scientific elements of music; the old Italian words derive from the Renaissance; Romantic critics added vague impressionist terms; the terminology of physics is hard to manage without being an actual physicist. Anyway, sounds are not things; all sounds are processes over time.

In Paris Pierre Schaefer went out and recorded trains and street noise then manipulated them in a primitive studio, creating Musique concrète. In Germany, in the studios of Cologne Radio, Stockhausen experimented with isolating pure sine waves and then treating, combining, distorting them etc.

At this abstract level, melody is pitch mediated by duration. Stockhausen himself told Worby that, of course, you can make a ‘melody’ by varying location, as you can by varying all the other 4 elements of noise. At a stroke this explains the thinking behind Gruppen, where three orchestras play from different locations around the auditorium.

Worby did a great job of easing his audience into the world of music as seen by physicists and scientists and making us realise that, suddenly seen from this perspective, the possibilities for experimentation are endless.

Jonathan Meades – Le Corbusier and Niemayer Typifying the arrogance of most of the architects I’ve met, interviewed or read about, this lecture wasn’t at all about Le Corbusier but seemed to be Meades’ defence of Brutalist architecture made from concrete. I learned that a lot of the design and aesthetic went back to the Nazi defences along coastal France against Allied invasion. Meades referred to lots of buildings and housing estates and so on but didn’t explain the history or background of any of them and didn’t show pictures of any of them, so I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about until after he’d finished speaking and opened it up to questions from the floor when suddenly we were shown a loop of a dozen or so buildings on a screen but, typically, still with no explanation of what they were. As he proceeded Meades began to criticise more and more things, English Heritage for failing to save Brutalist buildings which have been demolished, modern architecture for its infantile colours, spineless developers, the childishness of our entire culture where adults read Harry Potter.

By the end I knew nothing whatsoever more about Le Corbu. In Lily Allen’s words, Meades was having “a little whine and a moan”. I wish I’d gone to see Tom Service playing and discussing extracts from Stockhausen, Nono, Xenakis et al which was on at the same time slot.

Meades was promoting his new book, Museum Without Walls, which this talk comprehensively put me off reading. Jeremy Clarkson for arty types. Meades’ “talk” was introduced by young Owen Hatherley whose made a name with his architecture criticism, which is collected into several recent books including A New Kind of Bleak. His “chairing” of the talk left a bit to be desired. His idea of starting the audience Q&A was to mutter, “You lot”. I’ve toyed with buying his books but, flicking through the opening chapters in Foyles, I realised his texts also amount to one long moan. Why become an architecture critic if you think so much modern architecture is ****?

Fear of Music: Why people get Rothko but don’t get Stockhausen My heart always sinks when I see ‘panel discussion’. People in the arts are all pretty much the same, middle class, middle aged, white and polite so they tend to end up agreeing and being nice about everything and this panel was a good example. It was based on a recent book (as so many of these sessions are) by David Stubbs, Fear of Music: Why People Get Rothko But Don’t Get Stockhausen. Every time he was getting into his stride he was interrupted by the moderator who went to another speaker. Maybe it would have been better as a one-man presentation with musical examples.

But some ideas struggled through:

a) Pop versus the avant-garde music

  • Accessibility: people consume pop music in a million ways, via TV shows, adverts, in films, on TV, their ipods, the internet etc. Stockhausen is hard to access. Not least because it is
  • Expensive: Stockhausen’s CDs are published by his own company and generally cost £15. Not much is on YouTube. Let alone Maderna, Nono, Xenakis.
  • Ubiquity: and you can listen to pop music in the car, at home, in the kitchen, in clubs and pubs and cinemas, almost everywhere (whether you want to or not). Modernist music – Stockhausen, Boulez – is best heard live, but it is very rarely performed anywhere. You have to really search it out to find it. It is expensive to attend. And it is in forbidding and offputting concert halls.

b) Rothko versus Stockhausen

  • Convenience: you can go to Tate Modern any day of the week, at any time that suits you, with anyone you fancy eg with kids, stroll around and wander into the Rothko room and spend as little or as long as you like, ie a few seconds, a minute if you want to. But these concert pieces can only be seen extremely rarely, in a concert hall setting, and at a time and place and date not of your choosing.
  • Ubiquity of the image: images bombard us all day long, on TV, on billboards and hoardings, in magazines and newspapers and on the internet. We are used to assimilating all kinds of weird and wonderful images in split seconds. But this music is a process which takes time. In our day and age not many people are prepared or able to invest the time required.

Electronic Music Hub Concert In a small dingy concrete room underneath the Purcell Rooms there was a concert by Royal College of Music students. This was very, very good:

  • Nono – La Fabbrica Illuminata – performed by soprano Josephine Goddard
  • Alvarez – Temazcal – maracas performed by Alun McNeil-Watson
  • Reich – New York Countrpoint – clarinet performed by Benjamin Mellfont

Evening Concert in the Queen Elizabeth Hall:


Sunday 6 October

Nuria Schoenberg-Nono, Helmut Lachenmann and Christopher Fox in conversation. Smooth, polite, urbane Mr Fox gave a very good introduction to the Darmstadt International School of Music. (Odd that there wasn’t a simple lecture/presentation on this central subject all weekend.) Maderna and Nono go in 1950, Stockhausen in 1951, Boulez in 1952. Only in 1957 does Nono refer to there being a ‘Darmstadt school’ as a style or movement. A landmark concert in 1956 of Stockhausen’s Gesang and Nono’s Il Canto Sospeso. 1958 John Cage visited.

Nuria Schoenberg-Nono is a central figure. She is Schoenberg’s daughter and she married Luigi Nono one of the central figures of the 1950s avant-garde. Brought up in her father’s Los Angeles exile she was relaxed and American and funny. Two things she said struck me: 1. it would be nice if people booed for once at a music concert; nowadays everyone is so polite and open-minded and there is no edge, no controversy, no vision or excitement. 2. The music of her father and Berg and Webern was about passion and emotion. At Darmstadt and beyond it was treated as if it was physics. Only in recent years, she said, as orchestras have become completely familiar with it, has some of the emotion and expressiveness come out which was always meant to be there.

Helmut Lachenmann is a composer from that period, a little younger the the Big Names. His German accent was thick so it was hard to hear a lot of what he said, but he a) really doesn’t like the book, the Rest Is Noise, which he thought was superficial and inaccurate – he was angry that Maderna isn’t even mentioned in it; b) he’s unhappy at the generally negative image of Darmstadt in the UK aUS, the Anglo-Saxon world: he emphasises that it wasn’t a monolithic dictatorship, there was all kinds of experimentation going on; and that all of them were united in wanting to escape from Magic Music. he recalled being a boy at the end of the War and listening to a broadcast by Goebels frothing with Nazi lies which was rounded off by a performance of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. For them, the entire tradition was contaminated and they were trying to create a genuinely new world.

Lachenmann’s positive vision was rather dented by a comment from the floor by someone who had attended new music festivals in Scandinavia in the 50s and compared the open, relaxed atmosphere of these with arriving at Darmstadt to find an atmosphere of tension, competition and criticism, backstabbing and rivalry. Ho hum.

Ian Buruma: Year Zero Also promoting his new book, Year Zero: A History of 1945, Buruma was brilliant. A mild-mannered, urbane man who radiated intelligence and knowledge, he chose a few themes from the book to expand:

  • People rarely study what happens after wars end. Peace in 1945 really meant chaos and confusion. It led to brutal civil war in Greece which could also easily have broken out in Italy or France. In each country the right wing had sided with the Nazis, the resistance tended to be left wing, and neither side forgot. France was saved by de Gaulle who combined right wing politics with impeccable resistance credentials, thus squaring the circle. In one sense civil wars never really go away and that explains the rise of Golden Dawn in Greece.
  • Very widespread violence against women who had collaborated. Buruma sees this as a way  for guilty men who failed to resist, taking out their resentment, and also restoring the status quo ante.
  • We can now see the end of the USSR in 1989 leading to the death of Social Democracy across Europe, the triumph of neo-Liberal economics and cultural worldview, the unravelling of the post-war consensus and the end of the optimism which fueled the avant garde.

Lunchtime Concert: Music of Change by the Guildhall Percussion Ensemble

  • Cage – Second Construction
  • Xenakis – Okho
  • Xenakis – Psappha
  • Cage – Credo in US

Lots of drumming.

Black Mountain College: by Alyce Mahon, scholar Peter Jaeger and poet Tim Atkins. This was a very good panel: Alyce gave a good history of the idealist and utopian Black Mountain college, set up in 1933 to educate without the traditional gap between teachers and students, no hierarchy, minimal fees, no payment to the tutors who got room and board, an experiment in arts education which was forced to close in 1957, set up as a kind of Bauhaus for the States. Cage and Cunningham arrived in 1948. In 1951 there was the first ever ‘happening’. In the same month Cage’s 4’33” was a homage to the influence of Rauschenberg with his all-white paintings. Cage’s music, Cunningham’s dance, Rauschenberg and de Kooning painting, Charles Olson and Robert Creeley poetry.

Jaeger was promoting  his book, John Cage and Buddhist Ecopoetics, and was wonderfully calm, lucid, intelligent and informative. He compared some of Cage’s works and saying with Zen teachings and koans. Cage said 1950s avant garde was a reincarnation of 1910s Dada; that new music was about Time not melody and that Beethoven had dulled music by obsessing about Melody and harmony, taking German music down a dead end. A very informative and civilised and well-organised session.

When asked about the influence of Olsen and Creeley’s Open or open Notation verse on English poetry, enthusiastic and tremendously knowledgeable poet Tim Atkins said, well it hasn’t really arrived here yet. Like so much 20th century art, it has just passed by an England dominated by its public school elite who continue to like traditional games, traditional values and traditional art.

Introduction to Adorno: Elise ? and Nick Lezard At university back in the 80s, because I had studied German, I sought out and read Benjamin and Adorno (and Bloch and Lukaczs) who weren’t on my English syllabus and weren’t taught. For a season Minima Moralia was my constant companion. Theodor Adorno is immersed in the German philosophical tradition whose colossus is Hegel and after Hegel, Marx. Only if you have a feel for this tradition as well as the phenomenology of the 30s and 40s, for the bitter infighting between post-Hegelians and Marxists in those stricken decades, can you get a sense of how embattled Adorno felt when he fled Germany and settled in California.

In his native land the battle for Culture was literal – degenerate artists were being executed, banned, exiled – and the Great German Musical Tradition  had undergone the sweeping revolution of Schoenberg’s twelve tone system. For Adorno the High Culture of his childhood, the Seriousness of Art which led to Schoenberg in music and Kandinsky in Art, all this was under threat, was a matter of life and death. Only by committing to the highest standards, to the most difficult and recondite Literature and Music, could artists and those who love Art possibly escape the flood of totalitarian propaganda, military marches, the dreck of jazz and pop music which was flooding the world.

Coming to California then was a profound shock. People were cruising round in big cars, having barbeques, surfing, making brainless movies about love and big musicals. America represented the death of High Culture because it provided consumers with vast floods of brainless pap. Hence Adorno’s fierce abreaction in books like Minima Moralia (a collection of aphorisms and short essays) and The Culture Industry. Typical quote: “Already for many people it is an impertinence to say ‘I'” by which he means that most people are just robots, their brains filled with the mindless newsprint, cartoons, pop music and rubbish movies churned out by the Culture Industry which is itself just an aspect of the complete triumph of consumer capitalism.

Unfortunately, none of the power, the depth, the totality of Adorno’s critique of the way consumer capitalism has curdled and corrupted our most fundamental being came over in this presentation. Adorno isn’t an author you read. He is a complete reassessment of the culture we live in and our own personal values. Nick Lezard said he thought we could still really use Adorno as a mirror to our times, and he cited the X Factor as an example. This is vastly too shallow and obvious. Adorno is saying that to the depths of our souls all of us are slaves to the shallow lying garbage of the Culture Industry. Almost none of us can have an original thought, can escape our slavery and that escape is only possible via the most severe, intense, difficult and demanding Art, which for him was Schoenberg’s Serialism. For Adorno, in the 1940s, it was all over, the Soul of the West was corrupted beyond redemption. In which case, here and now in 2013, it must be even more all over.

But it isn’t. The fundamental flaw in Adorno’s position is his False Model of Culture: it is based entirely on the strict High Art of his childhood: Beethoven, Brahms, Wagner, Mahler, Schoenberg, it is the German tradition or nothing.

But of course there are thousands of traditions. At the same time Offenbach was writing his comedies and Gilbert & Sullivan theirs. As well as Schoenberg the world contained Poulenc and Vaughan Williams and Satie. My break with Adorno came when I read his criticism of Jazz which he thought embodied and continued negro slavery with its limited rhythms, its limited instrumentation and the soloist trapped within hackneyed chord sequences.

Putting down Adorno’s book, you walk away into a world full of beauty, of blue skies and flowers and the joyful sounds of all kinds of pop and rock and disco music, of musicals and world music and jazz and Burt Bacharach, let alone the thousands of types of art which blend and merge into advertising or magazine design, posters and internet layouts or apps or games.

The world is wonderfully big and rich and strange and so are the thousands of artistic and musical traditions which we can now experience more than any previous generations in human history. Adorno’s work is an intellectual and emotional and aesthetic dead end, a document from a terrible period of history shaped and constricted by the very totalitarianism impulses he was trying to escape.

Evening Concert in the Queen Elizabeth Hall with Martyn Brabbins, the London Sinfonietta & Royal Academy of Music musicians

  • Karlheinz Stockhausen: Gruppen
  • Luigi Nono: Canti per 13
  • Interval
  • Luigi Nono: Polifonica – monodia – ritmica
  • Karlheinz Stockhausen: Gruppen

Stockhausen said the concert halls hadn’t been built to properly perform his music and this was sadly true as the three orchestras performing Gruppen were located on the stage along the flanks of the hall under the boxes ie only those in the expensive Stalls seats got the full ‘in-the-round’ experience. The rest of us, the majority, in the auditorium heard the music all coming from in front of us. Ho hum. Deploying such large forces for a piece which is only twenty minutes has led to the tradition of always performing it twice in concerts, at the beginning and end.

All of these pieces benefit hugely from being heard live where you can see the effort it takes to create and co ordinate the music and where you get the full aural impact.

You can listen to almost all the sessions I list here as South Bank podcasts and make your own mind up.

Karlheinz Stockhausen en surimpression de la partition d'une de ses composition, Strasbourg, 1980 (Wikimedia Commons)

Karlheinz Stockhausen en surimpression de la partition d’une de ses composition, Strasbourg, 1980 (Wikimedia Commons)