For Samuel Beckett.
Morton Feldman.
Kammerensemble Nue Musik Berlin,
Roland King, conducting.

This piece presents a solid wall of noise–((like a steam-powered garment factory of sound working intricate cycles in a windowless, cement-floored building–(like a Tinguely self-destroying sculpture that does not manage to self-destruct, but instead grinds to a halt when the momentum it builds up is suddenly shunted off to power some other impossible, pataphysical machine beyond the range of our hearing, but which causes the dogs to prick their ears and to howl up and down the block)))–which we cannot pierce. We are swept up in the movements of this sonic process, and it is fascinating, challenging, but it is not pleasant. In fact, this is some of the least restful music I have encountered. Oddly enough, though this piece resembles “In Coptic Light” I found the latter to be of more interest, because it was somehow “softer”. Perhaps it’s the interpretation of this ensemble, but the total effect is one that I have no wish to repeat often.