Giorgio Sollazzi's statement:

“I think that minimalism is like a soup that Neapolitans use: meat, fish, legumes, cereals, raw vegetables, vegetables, even fruit, can be used. This is a simplistic approach, and if used to compose music fails to answer the questions that the composition poses today.”

One response to this analogy is to say that the good Neapolitan soup makers are experienced in their blending and proportions. A disproportionate use of one ingredient over another can ruin a soup, but does this notion apply to music?  Do all pieces of music have a balance of melody, rhythm, texture and so on? Let us take Giacinto Scelsi and his exploration of a monad as he does in the four pieces for orchestra. As we listen pitch is not the listener’s main focus, his craftsmanship blends the remaining parameters to maintain the musicality of the work. I think it fair to say that it is good to unify a piece of music with a logical exploration of an idea, but if the manipulation is obsessive what should be strength becomes a weakness.

If a composer decides to use very few ingredients – as in minimalist music – then composer has to work at extracting sufficient musical material to stimulate the imagination. If the composer fails in that task the music will be dull, and to use your analogy, tasteless. Similarly if there are too many ingredients the identity of each part is lost; the usual approach in cooking (as I understand) is to enhance the main ingredient not to overwhelm it, and whenever possible use fresh ingredients of the best quality.

 

Are there minimalist works that display poor use of material and fail to stimulate the imagination? Taking the view that each listener has his or her own preference one should argue this question from a theoretical point of view, this could be laborious but there is a shortcut and that is to alter the question by one word:

Are there works that display poor use of material and fail to stimulate the imagination?

It would be a brave and foolish person to say “no” to such a question and so it is fair to apply that answer to minimalism.

If we change the word minimal for procedure and think about “process music”, some listeners recoil at the notion of a pre-determined scheme and believe that the chances of failure to involve the listener increases. Before leaping to any conclusions regarding process let us examine some definitions, I’ll take these from a Wiki article just to move the discussion forward:

Michael Nyman has identified five types of process

1.     Chance determination processes, in which the material is not determined by the composer directly, but through a system he or she creates

2.    People processes, in which performers are allowed to move through given or suggested material, each at his or her own speed

3.    Contextual processes, in which actions depend on unpredictable conditions and on variables arising from the musical continuity

4.    Repetition processes, in which movement is generated solely by extended repetition

5.    Electronic processes, in which some or all aspects of the music are determined by the use of electronics. These processes take many forms.

Galen H. Brown acknowledges Nyman's five categories and proposes adding a sixth: mathematical process, which includes the manipulation of materials by means of permutation, addition, subtraction, multiplication, changes of rate, and so on.

Most of the negative criticisms I read from the public focus on the first, which is directed at serial thinking that took place over a period between 50 to 70 years ago, but each has the potential of provoking comment through the idea that process is de-humanizing, reducing the intuition of the composer.

It is pertinent here to inform you of my first attempts at composing, it was like building with Lego bricks, I would start with a sound I liked, perhaps melodic, perhaps harmonic, and I would play over and over possible ways of progressing. Some choices failed to work or were partially successful. Revision and sometimes destruction of the idea was time consuming, and when it became imperative to complete works on time for examinations I realised that I needed a strategy to work with greater fluency. As a student I had been informed about other composer’s strategies and sometimes adapted them to my own needs, but conflicts arose between systems that provided fluency and my personal musical expression.

You suggest that an additive approach is simplistic and fails to engage with questions posed by contemporary techniques and styles. So what are these questions?

Let us model a few, posing them as a composer beginning a composition:

Am I going to use a simple harmonic language so as not to make excessive demands on audiences?

Am I going to use or avoid repetitive rhythms?

Am I going to restrict the texture to focus on other parameters?

Am I going to use contemporary musical designs or adapt previous forms?

Having posed some musical questions, and hopefully come to a conclusion, the composer progresses to the business of construction. If the music is a process then the number of questions that have to be asked may be reduced e.g. the length or content of the work. After completion the composer may choose to interfere with the process on a surface level such as pitch rearrangement or modify events on a deeper level e.g. adjusting tempi or creating a mobile out of larger units and so on. Some of the processes indicated above take the music out of the composer’s control, if so, all further questions after presenting the initial material are irrelevant to the performance. It is possible of course that questions may be posed after the performance.

When an artisan approaches construction, let us say a potter making a cup, the questions are well rehearsed and generally speaking only small degrees of alteration are required to produce an individual product. It is possible that two composers could decide to explore the same process, it would be fascinating to see how the products would differ. Of course there are different performances of the same process in which the concept prevails but the details differ, but then that happens with all human performances.

If we take the idea that art and music are processes of communication and craft is only concerned with the physical product and its use we are left with one question which should always be asked, is my musical intention being heard and understood?