... me she gave,
Above all, word and melody for grief,
So as to tell the depths of my distress:
Where other men must suffer grief in silence,
A god gave me the power to speak my pain. 51
There is in each of us a zone of experience where we feel in contact with a profound power. For the purposes of discussion I shall outrage classicists by calling it the 'creatogenous zone'. We can never control it tho we may discover how to nurture it.
Some people experience this alignment of energies in sport, others in artistic or commercial pursuits, or in ways as diverse as cookery, sexuality, parenting &c. Even if many 21stC people no longer think of it as being in any way related to 'god' nevertheless this creatogenous zone shares one essential characteristic with those feelings that connect us to ideas of 'God' - it never lies.
In writing here autobiographically, far from claiming real-isation, I attempt simply to chart my own migration towards coherence, towards one-pointedness - a title suggested by geese massing for flight on the lake in Fonthill Park. My own life is not remarkable - its achievements, if any, are nugatory. It has no exemplary quality beyond being the one with which I am most closely acquainted.
The previous section discussed Individuation and its inter-relationship to Knowledge. Here I speak of the values drawn from these experiences as they bear on two 'compositions' which follow at the end.
Even when engaged in such diverse activities as script-writing, film production or journalism my self-definition has been as a composer. To those involved in the broad equatorial latitudes of each communication form, my variegated career may have appeared baffling but for me the interest lies in the polar zones where all longitudes meet, where intention first manifests as pure energy before it assumes the form by which the equator-dwellers perceive it. The ultimate character of a performance art I imagine, but have not yet fully realised, may be glimpsed from time to time in my work within the many different mediums I've essayed.
What is of paramount importance to me is that whatever is created should express an untrammeled inner energy (qi) springing from sath (a quality of profound truthfulness that transcends mortality). The uncovery of this quality is of course the common element in all great art, from Peter Brook to Brancusi, from Cellibidache to Charlie Parker.
The insuperable barrier to its realisation in my own work has been that I have only once worked with a performer, Nancy Hadden, for whom such ideas had any meaning whatsoever. Those on the lower steps of a career are in haste to ascend what they imagine to be a vertical ladder to the stars and are heedless to alternatives: those who have ascended understand, but don't wish to mar their careers by risking anything unorthodox.
Therefore where my creative energy has been blocked on one path I've diverted to a parallel one. I don't say I've accomplished much by this but it's prevented 'the torch in my ear' from burning my head off - to borrow the title of Elias Canetti's autobiography. It's also offered me an opportunity to correlate archetypal experiences through a variety of sensory gateways and to examine how /where the experiences coincide.
Much of the inner dissonance (pain) which it seems to have been my life path to experience comes from resolving so much within my mind but communicating with so little beyond it.
JOYCE To be known is perhaps the one wish of god. If s/he could've said it, why bother to create a world, and people it? If it could be said. What are the words? What are the words, Lucia? You know because you would not use them.
One bed after another, and only the graceless fumblkling, the grunted intimacies of strangers. And after, no search for meaning, only the desperate thrust of another fix, another sliming fast of shutters, of punting to be submerged in the strong mask of a rhythmic male buddy. O I saw it all, but what could a father do? The opened door one can never enter? 52
In 1989-91 I produced three major pieces of work, The Watcher In The Rain being one, which I felt should have generated some kind of resonance in the public mind if there was anyone alive to their psychic significance. That the only response from the cultural establishment was 'a high degree of muted indifference' convinced me that I should cease to concern myself with being heard by those with no ears or seen by those with no eyes, and concentrate on compacting my ideas into self-expanding archives (SEAs) addressed principally to those seeking wisdom. Perhaps I see things other people don't, or perhaps I spend my time reinventing the wheel? It's hard to know ... and nature is merciful! I now live by teaching piano in a Wiltshire village.
Every creative artist is addressing an imaginary audience composed of hir parent(s) or sibling(s) or lover(s). From whom else is there to seek applause - when
'...all that we think of it, begins and ends,
in the the small circle of our foes and friends.' 53.
The many ways of perceiving what divides our inner creative reality from the external objective world lie on a sliding scale between two extremes: full identification with a group consciousness and withdrawal into idiosyncrasy54 - which equate to the psychological types of extravert and introvert. According to Dr Dorothy Rowe the litmus test in distinguishing between these types of personality is whether, in an extremity, the subject will endure humiliation rather than be excluded from a social group, or will voluntarily withdraw in order to seek clarity. Ignorance of these basic premises lead to much needless confusion in discussing the arts and their function(s).
The impulse to perpetuate Memory and by extension ourselves (or vice versa?) is perhaps a psychological offshoot of our impulse to reproduce, reflecting the impulse to nurture/ project our offspring's optimum route to survival amid the complexities of existence - similar to the way in which neolithic cultures buried their dead beside trackways so that their spirits might give guidance and courage to living wayfarers. In pointing forwards mind/Mind also stretches backwards - enabling timeless wisdom to flow along a multi-directional highway from future to past to present.
(Musical training must somehow recover this aspect of Pythagorean mystery-initiation which attunes musicians not merely with each other's sound but also with archetypal wisdom. Such an awareness gives us a context /courage to accept our role as crafts-people executing small details on a vast building - whose grand conception we can appreciate only once we have achieved some measure of psychic insight.)
Until my decision not to seek understanding I found myself continually brought up against the dilemma which all hommes moyen sensuels will know - whether to follow one's dharma vision and so swim against the tide to establish an idiosyncratic form of expression, or be borne resistlessly on the prevailing ajnanic current of one's peers. Where a culture's traditional wisdom is preserved and honoured the tide of a peer-group is not necessarily ajnana, un-wise, for it remains in contact with a perception of something beyond the apparent surfaces of the collective language - a non-verbal 'value map' which in every culture is being eroded by 'scientism' (the materialist assumption that the physical form of an object or condition is all that can be known about it), the deluge of information masquerading as knowledge, and the greed for material enrichment.
The untranslateable word dharma may best be rendered as an 'in-tune-ness' or at-one-ment with one's sense of purpose, the 'creatogenous zone', which Quakers call 'that of God within every person' - a quality beautifully expressed in the Jewish wisdom writings:
Finally, stick to the advice your own heart gives, noone can be truer to you than that; since a man's soul often forewarns him better than seven watchmen perched on a watchtower. [Ecclesiasticus 37:13/14 JB]
Writing this piece, this struggle to encapsulate the nexus between art and intention, has clarified my own desires and certainties. When I'd been writing for some months I came across these thoughts of Sai Baba in Dhyana Vahini (The Way of Meditation).
[Spiritual ] aspirants have to swim against the current ... to reach the Source. Of course swimming up the river is a bit hard; ... for overcoming the strain one must have a raft called dhyanam [with which] weakness of the physical frame can be overcome, the wayward speed of the mind can be controlled and ... one can attain the Primordial Force (Adimurthi). [Those who] care more for the ease of the journey and float along the current [are] traveling away from Grace. [For them] the adimurthi will gradually become distant and disappear. 56
The dimension of Time adds a further complexity to the issues we're discussing. There are plenty of examples of answers arriving at one stage in our lives (or being given in one generation) to questions which appear later. Ives being an obvious example (The Unanswered Question apart!), in fact one might argue that 'answers' are always latent before the 'question' is formed, otherwise how could we recognise what we had not, at some level, already cognised?
The question now is: how can we recover the truthfulness of spontaneity in a techno-culture dominated by monumental works which define the route by which we have evolved? How can we 'value' the seeming triviality of those basic hopes and fears which connect us so directly to the depths of the creatogenous zone?
John Cage's remark that 'Beethoven was a disaster for music' expresses metaphorically the stultifying combination of treating a monumental expression of the psyché as if it were a literal phenomenon without exploring the never-ending dynamic of intention - in other words of responding merely to the stasis of ontological presentation; for musicians, not looking beyond 'the dots'; for listeners, mistaking the frozen wave of a recording for the sea. Such a misapplication of 'scientism' (so different from the intuitive leaps of a true scientist) leaves students trapped in the material world, mesmerised by the apparent insurmountabliity of their heritage.
JUNG For the man dazzled by light, darkness is a blessing, and the boundless desert is a paradise to the escaped prisoner. Looked at from the shadow-side, ideals are not beacons on mountain peaks, but taskmasters and gaolers. 57
Ultimately we all lie equal in the dust. Interposing any filter, let alone that of an imagined posterity, on our instinctive response risks destroying our best and most spontaneous creativity - and yet the Universal must always be at the back of our mind. Somehow, inexplicably, within this polarity the square is encircled - the very dualism generating a harmonic tension from whose dialectic arises all that's of greatest value in human achievement.
Cognition & Deconstruction
The distinction between the Priest and the Shaman/Prophet epitomises the two numinous aspects of the psyché - in Pirsig's words, between 'static good derived from fixed laws and the traditions and values which underlie them' and 'dynamic good that has to be continually rediscovered as a culture evolves.' Elsewhere in Lila he says
A tribe can change its values only person by person and someone has to be first. Whoever is first obviously is going to be in conflict with everybody else ... the insane and the contrarians are the most valuable people society has. They've taken the burdens of the culture onto themselves, and in their struggle to solve their own problems they're solving problems for their culture as well. 58
Pirsig himself was actually committed to an asylum at one stage in his life. Such a thing has never happened to me, but my consciousness has been so at odds with my contemporaries -many have certainly thought me 'mad'- that I've sometimes felt that at least knowing I was insane would relieve me of the strain of having to pretend to be an ordinary cheque-signing adult.
I envy the certainties of a prophet. Perhaps I have the 'curse' of prophecy, which is to feel alienated from one's culture, without the 'blessing' of knowing what the answers are! I resonate with the Hebrew prophet Jeremiah (who deserves a better press than he's had)
The word of He Is has meant for me insult, derision, all day long. I used to say "I will not think about him, I will not speak his name any more." Then there seemed to be a fire burning in my heart, imprisoned in my bones. The effort to restrain it wearied me. I couldn't bear it. 59
Certainly one of my tougher assignments as a human has been to accept that 'timing' lies beyond my conscious control - tho I'm now convinced that by at-one-ment with the 'creatogenous zone', that is, by openness to our life purpose at a non-conscious level, we do in fact 'govern' our synchronicity. But for years I was afraid to be that vulnerable.
To the child in us rejection is more than a source of anguish, it induces shame or inadequacy similar to that felt by incest survivors: s/he knows hirself to be innocent, and yet the unacknowledged grief creates a blocked energy which the sufferer cannot distinguish from guilt. I speak of these issues here because I know how many creative people find that, unable to externalise their awareness, it solidifies into an unremovable cast-iron helmet.
LUCIA Imagine me, the little mouse - everyone applauding. If I was somebody Sam'd have to love me. If I could just ... get the space I could ... but I can't push away ... darkness ... every side ... How can you if nobody cares whether you do or not? I could just get out there and ...
Very tentatively LUCIA gets up and tries to imitate ZELDA.
But suppose I did and nobody even noticed?
It's gawky, uncoordinated and, frankly, embarrassing. She gives up.
Hopeless, hopeless! Someone has to need me. I'd come alive in the power of their thought and be everything, be all the ideas in my mind - live my own life in the clean breath of God's free air, not somebody's daughter, or girlfriend, or wife - be ... myself! - whatever that is. 60
As I've indicated, earth-life may be a school for us to learn one very simple lesson - how to love. Once we know that we're free to dissolve, or rather, we no longer fear disintegration because we have touched the reality of an enduring non-physical integrity - again, sath (what is unchanging =truth).
I think it was Ashleigh Brilliant who said 'Life is the only game where the object is to discover the rules!' But the rules are that there are no 'rules' - balance alone is the rule. Love is our passport to progress in the non-material realms - not achievements, 'salvation', or any other attribute of physical existence. The reward of true love is to escape rebirth - never to 'have to be out there again'.61
Around the time I started composing, while a chorister at Canterbury Cathedral aged 9, I can remember nightmares so severe I was sent to sleep in the school sick room. If the two events were connected it must have been as an irruption of the subconscious.
My first short pieces were in the mould of the meretricious quasi-modern church music of the period. 62
If 'Truth cannot be Truth if it doesn't set us free' then the ambience at Canterbury c1960 was profoundly mendacious. By any measurable standard it was constricted and homophilic. (There were at least four active pæderasts on the staff of the choir school - to one of whom I owe my quasi-italic hand.)
With approaching puberty I interpreted my nightmares, some of which concerned immense snakes, as one of latent homosexuality, but I now think they related to a fear of wisdom - a fear that becoming 'conscious' would, by empowering, differentiate me. Of course, no discussion, let alone interpretation, of these dreams was ever suggested. That was for loonies. 63
If we are all responsible for programming our life path by our choice of birth and if what are obstacles on the outward path become gifts on the inward (big ifs I grant you) then certainly I gave myself a head-start on the inward path!
To a teenager, whose innate childish ExtraSensory Perception had not yet been eradicated by the education industry, this was very painful. I was listening to Coltrane when everyonelse was listening to Elvis. During the early stage of acculturation to adult society role-modeling is tremendously important to adolescents, but I could see noone and nothing around me for which I had the least respect - all I had was this bitch-goddess 'creatogenous zone' - the more clearly I followed my idiosyncratic truth the more completely I divorced my peers.
Having discovered that oasis of introverts, 20thC ptry, my first song settings were of Joyce, Owen & De La Mare, which were of course incomprehensible to everyonelse. By the time I ran away to Paris at 16 (1963) I had composed a substantial body of organ music - rich in adolescent Catholic mysticism à la Messiæn. Some of it had considerable merit, but despite the fact that my organ teacher, Allan Wicks, was England's (then) foremost Messiæn interpreter, I don't recall him or anyonelse ever expressing the slightest interest in my compositions.
A little attention is all creative artists require, the odd pat on the head; for the rest 'back and sides go bare': yet in place of understanding or even sympathy all that greeted me was a studied incomprehension or outright dislike. (No doubt a sign that I had actually got something right but I was too uncertain of myself to see it that way.) Psychologically, I cannot avoid tracing this back to my parents' indifference.
From this point onward I shared my life with a violent woman who would beat me up on any pretext: her name was Depression. She had been my childhood sweetheart, we even had a suicide pact (which I still think of fondly) - she alone understood. Depression had an identical twin whom I loathed, her name was Vulnerability. She was as quiet and amenable as Depression was violent. I hated both because I could never tell them apart. At least with Depression you had your orgasm of despair, whereas you'd just think you were getting somewhere with Vulnerability when her sister would burst in and yank you away.
I durst never oppose Depression to her face. And where was the 'god' to whom any appeal might be made? She would grip me in her arms and embrace me until I became limp - when she would abuse my lack of virility. Flight was pointless, because she'd always find me. 'After such fighting as the weakest know there's more than dying' says Dylan Thomas, the patron saint of depressives. Eventually I learnt the only way to oppose her was through complete surrender, becoming totally passive, and then one would sometimes fall through a trapdoor into a kind of wonderland of nonexistence where all things were immaterial.
It had another advantage, you were always proved right. "I can't communicate!" "Of course you can't my dear, come and see me afterwards."
Only in writing this section at the prompting of a friend did I realise that for me depression and vulnerability arouse emotionally synonymous sensations. Here too I hope that writing about these taboo emotions may encourage other sufferers to know that they're not alone.
Desire and belief are closely related. By either we have the power to call our latent wishes into existence, but both can be traps if misused - 'wishful thinking' may attract what we desire, but can also be a barrier to the accurate assessment of ontological reality. For me, in my youthful alienation, merely to 'allow' events felt too passive, too dangerously vulnerable, too 'unowned'.
At King's Canterbury I wasn't singled out for special treatment. I can remember the physical excitement on first handling Messiæn's Quatuor Pour La Fin Du Temps, and my increasing despair at finding not one instrumentalist (boy or man) willing even so much as to read through it with me. By the age of 15 I'd reached Grade VIII on the organ and could play most of Messiæn's works. If I got to Paris I could meet Him and He would know, and it would be alright. I did. I went to the Sainte Trinité for several Sundays but to be rejected by him would have killed me. I watched him emerge from the organ loft and walk to his car but dared not speak.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage we did not take
Towards the door we never opened ... 64
Having left school I had only one objective: never ever again to submit myself to the confederacy of dunces who constitute the education industry. I'm pleased to say that I only ever took Music O level, failed it, and never took another exam. It continues to outrage me to find in every educational establishment I visit young minds being formed by the ignorance of blockheads and make-weights whose paper fig-leaf is a legal entitlement for them to parade their smugness and vacuity without shame. As for those who perpetuate this system ... James Agee expresses it beautifully in his Pulitzer-winning reportage Let Us Now Praise Famous Men.
... adjustment to a sick and insane environment is of itself not health but sickness and insanity. And I feel I can say only that 'Education' whose function is at the crisis of this appalling responsibility, does not seem to me to be at all, or even anything, that it might be, but seems to be the very property of the world's misunderstanding, the sharpest of spearheads in its very brain; and since it could not be otherwise without destroying the world's machine, the world is unlikely to permit it to be otherwise. 65
My adult life began as a floor-sweeper at Gala Cosmetics.
JOYCE It's queer what different people remember. If things'd been different ... but we'd no choice. It was an Odyssey - I had to plow on, chartless across unnavigable seas -how else?- the gunwale never more than a flickering inch away from the green engulfing depths. In every surge there were infinite turnings /none at all. A shabby language teacher? A jostled nobody on the clanking tram, getting off two stops early to save fares. 66
Another strand in the web I have 'chosen' to weave in this earth-life is my receptivity to the high spiritual energies. In 1968 I had a conversion experience at a Billy Graham Rally. It's not relevant here to discuss its psychology or the social and philosophical issues surrounding the phenomenon. But suffice it to say I yearned to be relieved of the painful alienation of idiosyncrasy by merging into the (emotional) 'truth' of an authentic group consciousness dedicated to the upliftment of humanity.67 At that stage Born-Again Christianity had not assumed the overt political agenda which has since emerged: the rise of which mirrored my own disenchantment with that movement's restriction of permissible Consciousness to a dualistic terra cognita, and Christians' corresponding fear of the Unconscious. (For, as Jung mentions in The Philosophical Tree, 'oddly ... the Self often first confronts a person in a hostile manner.')
Nevertheless while within that ethos I entered full charismatic experience: gift of tongues, prophecy &c, which of course set my consciousness further apart from the average emotionally-inoculated graduate of Academe. Æsthetically, the experience motivated my wish to evolve a musical idiom that served 'ordinary people'.
It took me many years to process and correlate the significance of these experiences into coherent 'knowledge'. In preparing a series of 20thC composers' writings for BBCr3 I came across a clear link with the perspective of Charles Ives:
It was the way this music was sung that made [it] big or little, and I had the chance of hearing [it] big. And it wasn't the music that did it and it wasn't the sounds. They were transcendent, peculiar, bad, some beautifully unmusical, but they were sung like the rocks were grown.
I remember when I was a boy at our outdoor services in Reading, Connecticut. All the farmers, their families and their field hands from miles around would come on foot or in their farm wagons. I remember how the great waves of sound used to come through the trees ... sung by thousands of let-out souls. The music notes and words on those occasions were as much like what they were [on paper] as the monogram on a man's neck-tie can be like his face. 68
The music of spontaneous Pentecostal singing remains a profound influence and one of the most holistically satisfying experiences I know. More recently, in becoming aware of overtone singing, I have discovered an extension of this phenomenon that is not circumscribed by fear of the anarchic subconscious. The nature of these experiences admirably demonstrate Pirsig's Metaphysics of Qualities: their pitch-relativity allows even the musically unconfident to swim in sound without fear of sinking, for they are literally borne-up by their fellows - to some this experience is an extraordinary liberation. Moreover there is an innate psycho-physical mechanism that sweeps people from discord into wave-tops of the purest harmony that can be felt as 'truth' throughout the body. The harmony resonates the silence like no other sound source.
'In the realm of overtones' writes Joachim-Ernst Berendt 'every single note entails the vibration of all the rest ... as modern holism shows that human beings resonate with the universe'. As opposed to 'modern mass society' where the individual is seen as a mere 'particle', and in whose 'musical cultures ... overtones are put up with as a 'necessary evil'.'69
In music we rehearse heaven. The idiom is irrelevant. What is truly important is the sense of wholeness we derive from it. By touching an authentic open psychic interaction during music-making we experience an emotional reality ('sath') which is indistinguishable from love-making, in its involuntary-sharing aspect. In compositional terms, if this 'See Through' reality is reached via completely different notes from the ones I've conceived that's fine.
The nature of these musical experiences set me thinking as to how the 'design' of sonic experience (composition) might take full account of the involuntary-spontaneous music-making. Stockhausen's explorations in this area are vitiated for me by being fundamentally rooted in conventional subject-object relationships, and demand a level of technocracy (not technology, see footnote 81) which I view as disempowering.
Can one then 'design' transmissible musical experience other than by the prescriptive medium of musical literacy (of value only to those indoctrinated in its methodology) or by the mimesis of recording? For a long time I had no answers to these questions. Or rather, my answers were -if not incomprehensible- then articulated too diffidently to carry communicative power.
Eventually in my 20s I ceased to compose my own music except when the inner pain exceeded the fear of the noncomprehension/indifference, which was my 'punishment' for composing. You can trace similar emotions in the writings of Ives and Berlioz - indeed the latter is specific ...
God, that I might sleep for ever! Never again to be cursed with dreams of anything original! Do nothing! Think nothing! Be nothing! My digestion gives me pain enough - I don't need Hope ... My days are numbered. Why? Why? Why cannot I spend them peacefully, a prisoner of the treadmill of journalism, knowing there will be no reprieve - like those poor wretches on Devil's island? But to see the sky again - to dream once more of being a free man - to imagine composing - to fancy myself actually fulfilling my artistic destiny ...
O how cruel!! Oh no!!! Never! Never! Never! If I could but sleep again to find, with the dawn, all memory forever erased. 70
Among pieces I did compose in that period were several choral settings of words by Christians from behind the Iron Curtain. Tho not one note of my choral music has ever been performed, it is for these pieces that I expect to be remembered. Occasionally I come across one of them and it agitates my ear like the echo of a bell in a silent corridor. One contained these words from a Mennonite minister imprisoned in a lunatic asylum in Romania:
Yes, I was obliged to go this way, there was no other way for me as a minister. And if someone wishes to be a minister, he must know beforehand that when Isræl entered into the Holy Land, crossing the Jordan, the priests entered first in the dangerous water and were the last to leave it. 71
There seemed to be an impenetrable barrier to my youthful attempts at intentional, that is conscious, communication, but given a natural aptitude for improvisation I found myself warmly welcomed by drama musician, first as a silent film accompanist at the National Film Theatre and subsequently as a composer/arranger/musician on upwards of 200 theatre/tv/radio productions including, while Deputy Director of Music for the Royal Shakespeare Company, conducting the world premiere of Nicholas Nickleby.
But for the first 40-odd years of my life I wasn't ready to trust involuntary or subconscious communication.
Love and new are two words which repetition and misuse seem powerless to dull. A quality of love (intensity of commitment) shines through all great art as it does through all real-ised lives - retaining an energy 'old as loaves and fishes'. For what other reason than the most profound love could Bach have laboured so intensely on (say) 'The 48' which, while literature survives, will remain an unending source of delight to the soul? Could it have been for money - 'or the strut and trade of charms /on ... ivory stages' - or in response to a Business Plan? No, no, a thousand times no. It was thru that nexus where love and certainty meet that he knew that any 'gift' to the world, any work of art, any life poured out for others, can never be wasted but will over time recreate itself a million-fold. Whom could he have billed at £300 an hour plus VAT? What myopic publisher would have advanced him a thaler? This was not the reward he, or any creative artist, looks for.
JOYCE You can't accomplish everything in a life, you've to settle for what comes.
JUNG Ah but from whose viewpoint?
JOYCE Mine. Who else's have I?
JUNG rises slowly in the air as he speaks
JUNG Yours at the time you wrote - yours as a boy - yours as a young man - as a father - as an old man?
JOYCE Ogh you ask impossible questions! I have nobody but the one I put on this morning.
JUNG But you have, you have. Think what you might see.
JOYCE The degree to which you can escape the earth's gravity defines the distance in time from which your work may be viewed.72
'On the ground', that is to say in real time, the apparent distinction between idiosyncrasy and commercial 'originality' is wafer-thin, residing exclusively in the intention of the artist. 'Originality' -generally mere novelty- is the irrelevant and ephemeral by-product of a capitalist value system, whereas what emerges idiosyncratically may have a profound integrity often arising, ironically, from its very ephemerality, which occasionally finds a harmonic resonance with its culture as algorithms synchronise. (Examples litter history revealing the inability of the Cartesian mind to grasp that meaning isn't synonymous with the words used.)
'From the air', retrospectively or with the benefit of psychic insight, the picture becomes much clearer. We can see that intention is indeed paramount, and that intention + intensity alone provides the motive force which fires some pieces into orbit but leaves others on the launch pad. And that motive force is one small aspect of the power of love which surrounds us, sucked in (literally, inspired) or plugged into by a creative artist -consciously or otherwise- from the naked energy of creation for which s/he acts as a transformer, stepping down the voltage to a level accessible by those on less powerful frequencies.73
That transformative dynamism of love is coiled like the serpent of kundalini. Because in our incarnational form we interpret sensations physically we tend to connect 'ideas' of love to people, and to perceive them within human relationships. This is just as it should be. Yet we are also aware -subconsciously at least- that Love (the naked energy of creation) exists as a force independently of our perception and 'use', or abuse, of it. We either fear the snakebite and mistreat it, caging its energies or endeavouring to harness them selfishly, or we take the risk of releasing it and by integrating those energies transmute them into a source of vision and collective fulfilment.74
I have encountered transcendentally transformative love of this quality through other humans several times, on each occasion quite differently. The first was in 1964. 18 months after running away from school my intellect was all that remained above the waves, like a mast marking a shipwreck, when I went for harpsichord lessons to Jane Clark. Selflessly she and her husband, composer Stephen Dodgson, took me to live with them and eventually made me into something approaching a human being and gave me a formidable harpsichord technique.
This and other acts of pure charity I've experienced convince me that there is a power for good in our psychic environment which can be accessed.
In scoring music for speech drama one has the ideal opportunity to study the flight-path of the spirit, to plot the impulse of its take off to the very syllable or frame and to observe where, how and why it lands. By the early 80s, after composing music for nearly 100 radio dramas, I began to be commissioned to script original drama and feature programmes for BBCr3. Being well known to my producers I was allowed a reasonably free hand in combining music and speech provided I followed the Chinese system of putting anything controversial into the dialog of some historical figure. It was the Thatcher era and attempts to engage overtly with contemporary issues made the hierarchy very queasy indeed.
'The Manufacture of Consent' takes the form of being asked to 'simplify' anything controversial - 'unpack' is a favourite word! I encountered what seemed to me censorship on two occasions - in one case, a film script, I emasculated it as requested because I doubted the director's ability to carry it off - the other, a radio script, I refused to alter and the recording was postponed sine die. It's not a mistake you make twice and live. Broadcasting is like painting on water - momentarily beautiful and as swiftly forgotten. Nobody beats the system. 75
Of the many film/tv/radio productions I participated in during this period only a handful even attempted to engage with any metaphysical meaning. I would sit in video editing suites and look at the immense technological capacity to communicate meaning and to heal society's wounds, and would reflect with furious frustration that all anyone wanted to spend money on was junk, the more ill-informed the better. Personal achievements which might have satisfied others held no appeal for me. As soon as I saw how the trick was turned I wanted to get behind it to the next level of reality. But I was continually brought back to the reality that in a commercial environment you can only say things people will buy. At this stage my sight still penetrated no further than the surfaces of the phenomenal world. Like Peer Gynt I was peeling the layers of the onion expecting to find the secret of onion-ness.
The one occasion when I thought I'd succeeded in breaking through the boyg, the invisible cloud, was a commission for That Glittering Weekend, a filmscript based on my 1986 radio dramatisation of Lord Berners' novel Count Omega. It seemed as if, at long and fierce last, I would have a chance to achieve the drama=music balance I had been seeking. Both BBC & British Screen were interested if Ken Russell would commit as director. He agreed, but the required letter never arrived because, we learnt, he'd gone to LA to direct Whore - a film whose title and fate express the delicious venom of poetic justice.
Having explored various systems of psychotherapy as a way of dealing with my inner disharmony, I came to feel that nothing could assuage my anguish. All I acquired from these encounters was an enhanced vocabulary to describe my inner discord. Au fond, I was still afraid to enter my own anarchic void, and confront that doubt-full serpent which threatens to swallow us whole until we have wrestled it to the ground; whereupon we find it to be no more than a carnival dragon.
The turning point, invisible at the time, was an impulse to attend a Quaker Meeting in about 1984. After a few years attuning myself to the psychic intimacy of shared silence I became able to distinguish between the voice of the soul (jiva) and mere mental activity (manas). At this point I became clear that there was a 'reality' independent of our knowledge of it, and felt strongly led to explore the psychic dimensions of my personality - which by background and educative-processing were taboo.
If one see(k)s music as vimuktida, a path of enlightenment, then the profound question, articulated elsewhere in this issue by Frank Perry, is "What would the music be like if I wasn't in the way of it?" He says his musical priorities are motivated by the awareness that "when I'm there everything I've done here will form my [discarnate] consciousness so I make bloody sure I don't make sounds that I don't want to be surrounded by for a long long time."
The more I came to see of the non-material world the more I was liberated from the mental drivers that had tormented me. Allowing the mental wings of psychic awareness to unfold naturally soon eased the pain I had experienced from keeping them bound to my side. I allowed my (professional) death to occur, and descended into an underworld of nonexistence, during which I tunneled into nothingness, and from that void I now return with empty hands. What I set before you is a space.
This then is the first distillation of that spirit of silence.
Chakra Music for Singers
If this compositional idea has merit, do I own it or do I not? It has certainly perplexed the 'cultural managers' of the avantgarde to whom Music is defined exclusively in terms of a literature. The concept of nuclear individualism which arrived with differentiated consciousness still informs Art Music's idea of the composer. While this may have been a necessary phase of evolution it doesn't need to be perpetuated. On the other hand can a composer 'own' a work without fulfilling the philosophic-legal criteria of defining the composition as a linear sequence?
Neither Inner Nor Outer
Elsewhere in this issue Tim Hodgkinson describes 'shamanising [as] something akin to a negotiation between voluntary and involuntary aspects of cognition'. This is certainly my own process.
I've found I can only truly hear my inner voice when not fully conscious. Therefore I (try to) only note down what I sense in the dream state when thoughts occur in symbolic rather than linguistic truth. In this sense the ideas are retrieved like wool-gathering from the different rocks, trees and hedges within my psyché and laboriously wound into a skein.
Dream-consciousness is a language of runic symbols. Discovering the characters of a spell is not hard once you've understood the logic informing the language. Until you can 'spell' it correctly it remains inert (information) - however when the emotional code is cracked extraordinary energy is generated (knowledge). What else explains why some music and films hit the mark? It must also surely be the motivation behind the current vogue for 'authentic' music performance. If it's authentic enough, it will seem to recreate a forgotten ancestral memory from which we may derive guidance in these confusing times.
JOYCE You make it sound as if, as if I were a, sorcerer, a spell-binder of some kind.
JUNG pausing in his dance And aren't you? If the whispered sounds by which Romanies control horses were common knowledge we'd admit it as a science, but it's easier to dismiss what we are too lazy to understand.
JOYCE is intrigued by this argument. JUNG resumes his rhythm.
You know about incantations, do you not? Surely you create tintinabulary word-patterns whose effect tickles our sophisticated ear -
JOYCE That has at times been my intention ...
JUNG backs very slowly, almost wooing JOYCE
JUNG - just as spells & runes must have once tantalised an illiterate one. In the undeveloped mind of a child your incantations may have had an effect they would not've done in an adult's.77
Who wrote these words? Did I write them? Or did I simply notate what appeared in my mind? If so from what source? Are they a merely the distillation of a metabolic process, like sap from a rubber tree? Or is there a meta-physical reality to which we have access, a collective unconscious, as coherent as the phenomenal world?
John Tavener asks 'whether there can be any 'real' focus for art other than its power to evoke realities which transcend the physical world? He sees all art which truly expresses the divine nature as a miracle and feels the appropriate response of the artist to hir own gifts is one of humility.'78 From this perspective it can be seen that we're all merely secretaries - to be praised or berated according to the veracity not the 'originality' with which we record. The light must be honoured not the messenger.
The Word was the true light that enlightens all men; and he was coming into the world ... a light the darkness could not overpower. [John 1.9 & 1.5 JB]
'Originality' is a cabaret on the 'ship of fools' - the Kali power, the destroyer: Plato strictly forbade originality and proposed a system of censorship for he considered that any deviation from the music established as socially harmonious to be a political offence punishable by death. While I don't support this sentiment, sometimes listening to popular music stations I think it might be a kindness! No doubt Plato saw was how easy it is to stir people up physiologically by rhythm or psycho-kinesis in ways which achieve little except to seethe the cognitive pot. (An image expressed in the very term 'pot-boiler'.)
Only where the seed of originality 'dies' can something transformatory spring up, a vehicle through which something trans-personal is communicated - we notate sounds heard through a wall, paint what is only obliquely visible, or create characters glimpsed from afar. The more profound the truth the less original, yet it's always new.
Co-creativity & Service
Every creative artist participates in the energy of the Creator.
Our uvre is not us, but equally it is not 'other than us'. As we, by the power of imagination alone, will matter to exist in ontological form which thereafter is bound to obey its inherent 'qualities', so are we in turn creations of a profounder will. In this sense all matter is holographically suffused with its creator.
Here the true character of duality is glimpsed: for artistic creation as much as procreation requires the conjunction of yin and yang, who in achieving a balance alchemists call the mystical union become a transceiver. If you had, or desired to have, a lover in whom you were willing to allow feelings of love or not-love to emerge without constraint, then would not the nature of that love be incomparably profound?
Music only has value if offered as 'service', be it as worship of some ultimate reality or as re-creational entertainment for fellow humans. In its technocratic arrogance Art music, literate music, has largely discarded this idea. The idea that one kind of music can be 'important', while others aren't, is a reflection only of the value system of academic technocracy. Publicly funded music predominantly reflects an objectification of masculine egotism which has all but obliterated the idea of serving, let alone of wooing, an audience. In subordinate cultures (I use the term provocatively to describe Mass Market & non-WASP musics) entertainment cannot afford to misconceive its audience - there is no economic safety net. It's a far from healthy sign that in Britain Jazz now looks for state support.
It's not accidental that the genre of Art music to have had the broadest post-war commercial appeal (ie, to have engaged most widely with audiences) is Minimalism, itself a demoticisation of high culture. However banal or evanescent, it has had the effect of restoring Music to the emotional grasp of the common person. I don't wish to be found arguing against all public funding,80 even if I have grave doubts about its inevitable effects and priorities given control of its distribution by the technocratic class. 'S/he who pays the piper calls the tune' remains true whether the source of patronage is an individual or a committee. When one compares the vigour of the indie rock scene at, or beyond, the margins of society with the effeteness and solipsism of the artforms at its centre, I know where to look for energy and emotional honesty. The mindset of subsidy, in England at least, is synonymous with the mindset of academically supported music-making. The views I now hold evolved during the 17 years I taught at the the Royal College of Music. I came to feel the moral basis system of conservatoire music training, that is the intention behind it, is fundamentally immoral because it is amoral. Music is not the acquisition of techniques, and to teach it as if it is is to deny its essential nature.
Except for the individual effort of a few gifted teachers, I am not aware that any attempt was made at the RCM to develop students' sensitivity to the vibratory aspects of sound, or to examine the validity or perceptual basis of non-Western musics. The primary emphasis was on technique and presentation. If anyonelse taught that value or meaning in music are not synonymous with left-brain perception they kept it a secret.
I have neither pleasure nor grief in saying that I incurred the venomous hostility of two successive Directors of Studies, one of whom blatantly double-crossed a music technology initiative for which I had secured substantial sponsorship, the other who sought to deprive me of my position as Head of 20thC Studies in the Junior Department in order to silence the questions I was raising.
Eventually it became clear that to use homopathic language in an allopathic environment was a waste of everyone's time. The system was not susceptible of reform from within, because when it's self-definition was challenged it had no alternative answers. To reiterate Agee: ''Education' ... seems to be the very property of the world's misunderstanding, the sharpest of spearheads in its very brain; and since it could not be otherwise without destroying the world's machine, the world is unlikely to permit it to be otherwise.'
It was the world of exams and careers and 'being taken seriously'. By whom? For what? Certainly not the muse of Music. What room amid such jovial bustle for 'the subtler voices of magic'?
Not until I had resigned, in 1990, did I become truly conscious my own creatogenous zone. During the years spent within the orbit of salaried music officials at the RCM, at the BBC and elsewhere, I dared not listen to it.
In Time Bends Arthur Miller recounts how the then Head of 20thC Fox pressured him to testify to the House UnAmerican Activities Committee. After his refusal they walked together to the lift - 'his last glance toward me as he disappeared behind the closing door was forgetful, as tho I were a complete stranger he had met in the building corridor.' I knew this would be my fate if/once I ceased to pay lip service the academic mindset.
With my background you may ask why I wanted to try, let alone why I succeeded to the degree that I did? The answer lies midway between vanity and the need to make a living. Despite loving relationships I remained afraid of the psychological isolation I'd experienced during adolescence and its economic consequences, nor could I yet articulate a credible alternative æsthetic.
Communicating without literacy
They are blessed who absorb a collective musical idiom unquestioningly, for they acquire with it a methodology, a culture and clear parameters within which to exercise their freedom to improvise. When everything in a performance comes together it creates an extra-ordinary chi.
The nature of this energy has always fascinated me for it seems to harness the quintessential re-creative power of music just as the generation of electricity harnesses the elemental forces of nature.
But how is one to explore/create this energy other than by means of an existing idiom? How in fact to create memory structures that do not arouse the preconceptions imposed by musical literacy, or the socio-musical assumptions that accompany Mass Market music?
For about a year and a half I've run a small vocal improvising ensemble called Enchanter. Its personnel has evolved over this period and the fascinating, if scary, problem which emerges when someone new joins is how the consciousness of the group alters, and all that that implies for the adaptation of our musical language. It's equally fascinating to explore what constitutes a level of coherence accessible to others as 'music'.
In order to develop this we've evolved a strategy of noting what has in-scape in our improvisations and incorporating them in maps. While this approach is not in itself new I'm not aware of previous map-makers (composers) basing their work on experimenting with archetypal sound or of encouraging performers to develop heightened (timeless) state of awareness similar to that experienced during the greatest performance of literate music or when improvised music really hits a groove. I explored some of these issues in a BBCr4 series called Music As Sacred Experience in July 1995.
In this context encountering the music and ideas of Frank Perry has been as influential on my recent development as Messiæn was in my teens. My intention in Spinther II is to supply a conceptual framework for players to 'make sense of', to 'inhabit' from and within their own perspective, and within their own prefered musical idiom.
Vocalists have to discover subjective truth in whatever they do. For instrumentalists Spinther II offers an opportunity to create the nature of the overall design and to control their own place in it in considerable detail - a reflexive process which necessarily involves consideration of their role as artists within the conception that they choose to execute.
Reconstructing Social Awareness
While the first draft of this article was in preparation Spinther II was selected by COMA (Contemporary Music for Amateurs) for a rehearsal read-through. In the limited time, and with a larger than ideal group and no percussion, it achieved some remarkable intensities of sound. In it I heard the emergence of a timbral quality I can remember searching for as a child. It was like holding together an immensely high voltage cable and seeing the contacts arc and smoulder in dazzling flashes.81
I used to compose/write believing each work would alter my life. Having now come to realise the only way to alter anything is to accept it I'm free to speak of what I see without the expectation of gain or the fear of loss. People in the conventional world look at me as a loser - I can see them thinking 'this guy's bought a one way ticket.' But the truth is there are millions of people like me who are marginalised by a carefully manipulated contraction of focus of onto areas of 'meaning' where the particular mental archetype of the technocratic classes will be seen to shine with unnatural brilliance.82
'Meaning' in life comes from a network of socially-contextualised relationships, hence technocrats' manipulation of the media spotlight to ensure the marginalisation of 'non-approved' networks such as the homeless. To those trapped in unawakened society, the illusory reward of 'winning' reinforces the sense of social inadequacy 'losers' feel at not counting as economic units and consequently, within the value system of capitalism, as human beings. The current emphasis on 'excellence' and competition can be seen as a sophisticated form of social control, where the public services voluntarily submit themselves to many absurd indignities in order to appease their masters, apparently ignorant of the underlying political agenda.
Fostex used to give out a sweatshirt with the legend 'The Future is in Control' to publicise their time-coded recording equipment. The illusion of being 'in control' is one of the techniques by which social dominance is maintained. The fulfilment of a prediction, however mundane, 'magnetises' individual psychés to the same polarity and renders them subservient. Many are the techniques, the spells, that can be used to imprison: few, alas, that can be used to 'liberate' - for that comes from nuclear fission within an individual psyché.
The need to control underdogs is the secret code that links the top dogs in their international technocratic class identity. It's the function and the duty of artists to publicise the truth that the Future is out of Control. The alternative to Control is not necessarily entropy where self-discipline and a sense of proportion is maintained.
In abandoning hirself to power of hir inner spirit, what the creative artist and the mystic (and the lover) finds is that trusting an otherness is synonymous with trusting hirself. The measure of our ability to be instruments of something greater than ourselves is the degree of our willingness to allow the Future to be out of control. If our fear makes us grasping or clingy then we shall never transcend the perimeter of our consciousness and that all we fought for will tumble into the grave beside us.
From the perspective of love however, there's no 'losing' there's only expansion of consciousness. The central cultural icon of Eurocentric consciousness is the supreme 'loser' and yet we still can't learn the lesson that cosmically the game is never over, the whistle never blown, the score never declared.83 Love allows infinite replays. The nature of the ultimate depth of love (which sometimes manifests as 'walking through the valley of the shadow of death') is a call to ignore all obstacles, a shattering of the earthen pot, exonerating the soul from the emotional gravity of incarnation to assume its place in the spiritual helix of the cosmos to which its energies are thereby attuned.
Trust your inner process. The essence of synchronicity is not our timing but being open to the needs and timings of our inner-life purpose. (Those responsive to inspiration may have difficulty in distinguishing between the rightness of an idea and the right timing of its utterance.) However much the technology and the linguistic concepts change, the nature of the heart-lesson never alters:
My son, if you aspire to serve the Lord, prepare yourself for an ordeal. Whatever happens to you, accept it, and in the uncertainties of your humble state be patient, since gold is tested in the fire, and chosen men in the furnace of humiliation. [84 Ecclesiasticus 2:1. JB]
The feudal language of traditional religion expresses an evolutionary stage of the West's culture. From a psychological perspective that sentence might be rewritten:
My child, if you aspire to serve your inmost self, prepare yourself for an ordeal. Whatever happens to you, accept it, and in the uncertainties of your humble state be patient, since gold is tested in the fire, and chosen servants in the furnace of humbling.
I chose to call that inner reality the creatogenous zone to avoid specific associations with any one religious tradition, but it's what Buddhists calls the clear light, Quakers that of God in everyone, Hindus viveka (esoteric insight) or vijnana (esoteric knowledge). Christians call it the holy spirit, and no doubt all other religions name it in accordance with their collective experience.
Addressing that inner reality Job says of his own 'dark night of the soul'
I knew you then only by hearsay
but now, having seen you with my own eyes,
I retract all I've said. [Job 42:5/6. JB]
51 back JW von Goethe Torquato Tasso (c)1790 - a fascinating study of the relationship between the world of imagination and the realities of political power which I had the good fortune to encounter in a wonderful translation by Alan & Sandy Brownjohn (pub. Angel, UK 1985) when I was commissioned to write music for a BBCr3 production in 1982.
52 back 60 back 66 back 72 back 77 back Throughout this section I've included passages from my stage-play The Watcher In The Rain ((c)1990) which express the dilemmas of 20thC creativity - the magician's unfiltered instinct versus the healer's intuitive analysis - seen through the eyes of CG Jung, James Joyce, his schizophrenic daughter Lucia, and Zelda Fitzgerald. It was produced at the Rose Theatre, London 1991.
53 back Pope, Essay On Man.
54 back I use idiosyncrasy as a value-neutral word to describe what flows from the 'creatogenous zone' as communicable creativity. Whilst it may to some extent imply eccentricity, in the sense of deviance from collective norms, this shouldn't be understood pejoratively. Nor does it imply a world-view lacking in catholicity. Ironically, group consciousness which represents, in the best sense of the word, a collective psychosis can be highly eclectic and, in the absence of idiosyncratic input, has no mechanism to correct its relation to phenomenal objectivity - hence persecutions &c.
Dorothy Rowe Beyond Fear, HarperCollins, 1987. A clinical psychologist and a Christian, Dr Rowe has written extensively of 'how we communicate and why we suffer'. Her writings construct a profoundly compassionate model of communication dysfunction.
56 back Dhyana Vahini (The Way of Meditation) Sri Sathya Sai Book Trust, India. nd. Available non-commercially in most countries.
57 back The Watcher In The Rain quoting Jung's own words.
58 back Robert Pirsig, Lila, Viking 1992
59 back Jeremiah 20:9 (JB). In a very different cultural context I would regard YHVH as more or less synonymous with what we would today think of in the terms I have formulated as the 'creatogenous zone'. In a primitive (therefore numinous, or wholly metaphoric) culture the symbolic name of the unified consciousness perceived by Moses, in appropriately apocalyptic circumstances, is nothing more than the third person singular of the verb To Be. (How much more dream-like can you get?)
Because to utter the name was believed to draw into existence the reality named, an absolute prohibition existed on the esoterically 'correct' pronunciation of YHVH (Jehovah /Yahweh), to do so would be to spell - and the atomic nature of the forces released by the correctly spelled invocation of the fundamental complex of the personality, the ground of being, was, rightly, conceived as unleashing a transformatory force of cataclysmic power. (see also footnote 73 ) Therefore this reality was veiled behind phrases such as 'the existent one', 'the divine tetragrammaton' (the original four letter word!) and that with which we're most familiar, 'the Lord'.
The habit of blasphemy in moments of stress expresses a subconscious belief in the power named (the yiddish 'oyveh' for instance) and it's interesting to observe the migration of belief from a tremendous reality exemplified in swear-words of metaphoric symbolism (eg, Christ, Zounds) to the identification of that tremendous reality with an actual psycho-physical sensation (eg, 'fuck' or 'shit').
This is a subject which would bear research tho in my view it makes little difference whether we cognise the 'creatogenous zone' as a 'high' (transpersonal) or 'low' (sensual) energy-point within ourselves for its significance is that by our alignment with it we achieve vertical integration or 'whole-person-coherence'. And isn't that what we came for?
61 back The evangelical idea of 'salvation' glimpses this reality but from a very incomplete perspective.
62 back Organised religion appears to have responded to its marginalisation by 18thC 'Enlightenment' by consistently acting as a sump for the threadbarest of artistic clichés - perhaps because it has invalidated its own creatogenous zoneby mistaking external forms for subjective truth, by which alone the (holy) spirit's evolutionary dynamic inspires humanity.
If the idea of 'heaven' must by definition be a collective awareness (or the term has no meaning) then by their language and semiology established churches perpetuate the mediæval assumption of 'heaven' as a single undifferentiated tribal awareness. Few nowadays are able to link back to this evolutionarily-outgrown memory. Therefore, since within post-Reformation, post-Enlightenment consciousness 'heavens' are comprised of freely associating individuals, evangelicals and new religious movements are far more successful in channeling popular psychic energy.
The interesting question, as the feminisation of Anglicanism shows, is how far an established thought-form can change itself before it ceases to be what it defines itself as being. And if it is no longer what it was, then what's in a name?
63 back Between the outer world and the dreamworld an inversion takes place where, in Jung's phrase, 'Gold is shit and shit is gold.' Esoterically the snake is associated with healing and wisdom. Often, as when 'Great Minds against themselves conspire/ And shun the cure they most desire', our fears project some prohibitory image onto our 'inner cinema' screen because the emotions aroused seem overwhelming.
64 back TS Eliot Four Quartets Faber .
65 back James Agee (1909-1955) Let Us Now Praise Famous Men, (c)1939. various editions in print.
67 The parallel with extreme political movements for those desiring group consciousnes without spiritual insight is obvious. I have written about aspects of this experience in various places, in an unproduced film treatment A Flight Of Angels (1994) and in The Value of Cults (The Guardian 14/10/95).
68 back Charles Ives, Memos. Adapted as Ives in London, one of The Composer's Voice series, BBCr3 1984.
69 back J-E Berendt The Third Ear,(c)1985, Element Books 1988.
70 back Maxwell Steer, A Tormented God, one man stage play 1983, based on Berlioz' Mémoires. Commissioned by (Royal) National Theatre for Robert Stephens but not performed.
71 back Maxwell Steer Voice Of The Martyrs #6, 1973. Words David Klassen; .
73 back The highest quality of this energy I have ever witnessed resides in Sai Baba. Connecting with him psychically while in his physical presence gave me a sense of 'honorary access' into dimensions of existence where the levels of power are beyond awesome. Fortunately for all created matter, humans can only handle this level of energy after lifetimes of preparation (you wouldn't let a toddler drive a Maserati) for with the power to create comes the equivalent power to destroy, where even a momentary sensaation can have immense repercussions.
It seems likely to me that Beethoven had powers of this nature but, lacking a culture to contextualise them at their profoundest level, we (& possibly he) interpret(ed) them in terms of their manifestation rather than being aware of the level of intention they represent.
74 back Sexuality and religion are inextricably inter-connected at an emotional level for both occur within the polar intensity of the 'creatogenous zone' where the psychological and physiological sensations are so similar that it requires considerable discipline to keep them apart. The emotion-intellect divorce in Western culture is nowhere more tragically clear than in our unrealistic expectations of an 'objective' (ie non-emotional) role for our priestly caste (doctors, teachers, public servants &c) with the collective tabloid in-humanity and object-ification visited upon any who appear to fall from their stylite role.
75 back The controversial script was called Shostakovich In New York - a study of the beginnings of McCarthyism and the systematic dismemberment of the US Left during the Berlin blockade, which coincided with Shostakovich's visit. A considerable amount of the BBC's money had been spent on research in America and a neat, if ultimately redundant, touch was the Russian dialog was translated by Oleg Prokofiev.
For further discussion of issues surrounding The Manufacture of Consent (Herman & Chomsky, Pantheon US 1988) See note 83 and adjacent ¶¶.
78 back Description of Art & The End Point, a talk given by John Tavener at Music & the Psyche II, London 1996.
80 back In 1983, at the height of Thascism, until terminated by the editor I conducted a heated opposition in the pages of Opera to a merchant banker (rhyming slang) who argued that Glyndebourne's reliance on corporate donations and unsubsidised ticket prices was a model the government should enforce on all arts organisations.
81 back It was subsequently performed & recorded by Frank Perry & the Central Berkshire Wind Quintet at Leighton Park School in July 1995.
82 If you doubt this, study the brilliantly lucid analysis The Manufacture of Consent Herman & Chomsky (Pantheon US 1988). I use the term technocracy to describe the cult of 'management' which has gripped the capitalist world. Technocrats operate without any moral objective, beyond maximising profits and perquisites, or social commitment. The arguments which form their mindset are inter-connected so as to be impervious to any principle of logic arising outside their narrow focus of interest.
83 For a fascinatingly perceptive analysis of the paradox whereby the religion of a crucified saviour has empowered the most implacable imperialism in the history of the world see 'Religions of the lamenting pack' in Elias Canetti Crowds & Power.