Minimalism (n). Music: a reductive style or school of modern music utilizing only simple sonorities, rhythms, and patterns, with minimal embellishment or orchestrational complexity, and characterized by protracted repetition of figurations, obsessive structural rigor, and often a pulsing, hypnotic effect.
Minimalism is very much a modern school of music despite it falling under the vast domain of what we consider to be classical. Like the popular music many people listen to today, its appeal lies in underlying rhythms and beats rather than any melody in particular, but the simplicity on the surface belies deeply complex juxtapositions of harmony and thought. Above all, minimalist music is pure. Like a Rothko painting, the “minimal” elements that make up each composition are meant to represent something much larger and more profound, but one would never be able to tell from any sort of traditional analysis. Here, what you think it means does become what it means.
Minimalist does not necessarily mean abstract, however. Most of the following compositions are still clearly identifiable as music, and pleasant to listen to (that’s the point of these playlists, after all!); Adams and Glass tend more musical while Reich and Riley lean more towards abstraction, so a wide range still exists. Close your eyes and try to focus on some sort of image while listening to each piece in this playlist. Maybe it will help you clear your mind; maybe you won’t feel a thing; maybe minimalism will end up just being another interesting genre of music that you listen to without strings attached. Whichever way you choose to appreciate minimalist music, it undeniably has its perks in every area. We think there’s something for everyone in this playlist, and we hope you enjoy.
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Short Ride on a Fast Machine (1986): John Adams (Michael Tilson Thomas/San Francisco Symphony Orchestra)
Daniel Xu ’17: With a driven, pulsing beat and charming flights of sound, Short Ride on a Fast Machine is a very accessible piece. It manages to be at once exciting, catchy, and incredibly simple due to all the repeated notes: just take a look at the sheet music. As an introduction to minimalist music, it’s hard to do better than to listen to Short Ride; if it appeals to you in any way, bring on the rest.
Clapping Music (1972): Steven Reich
David Sheng ’18: Badada—bada—ba—bada: this simple rhythm opens Steve Reich’s Clapping Music, a piece performed with only two pairs of human hands. It may seem ridiculous at first, but a listening through may well change this opinion. The idea behind it is rather simple. Clapping Music starts with both players playing the aforementioned rhythm in unison, but after every seven iterations, the second player shifts by a single sixteenth note. This continues until both players are back in unison. If you are interested in learning it with a friend, a free iOS app is available for download on the Apple App Store that helps you with learning the piece.
The Hours (2002): Philip Glass (Film recording)
DS: After a quick Google search, a film bearing the same title may come out as the top result. As a matter of fact, this very piece is the first soundtrack to the film … surprise! The Hours is a signature Philip Glass piece, opening with chords softly played by the strings. The melody is then passed on to the piano, and as it plays arpeggios like an overlapping layer of silk, the strings continue their march-like accompaniment. In the vast catalog of Philip Glass’s music, this piece stands out for the beauty and contrasting characters that emerge in just 10 minutes.
The Protecting Veil (1989): John Tavener (Steven Isserlis; London Symphony Orchestra/Gennadi Rozhdestvensky)
DS: Tavener has been a key figure in the British musical scene, although his focus on his Russian Orthodox faith has made his something of an outcast. This piece is scored for a large string orchestra with solo cello and is very much in the style of a Russian chant (free meter and the use of modes). As the title suggests, the piece itself is inspired by the Intercession of the Theotokos, where the protecting veil is the veil of the Virgin Mary that protects all people of the church. Whether you hold faith in the Orthodoxy or not, this piece will definitely be a treat of beauty and dramaticism.
In C (1964): Terry Riley
DX: This piece stretches a little towards luminaries such as John Cage (known mostly for 4’33”, which is pretty much not even music) by pushing the bounds of the serialism that originated from Schoenberg’s Second Viennese School. Due to this, many musicologists consider it the first true minimalist composition, although the school has quite clearly diverged since then. Not only does In C have no specified tempo, it also has no specified instruments or number of performers. Recordings range from 30 to 90 minutes in length, with between 11 and 124 musicians playing.
Glassworks (1982): Philip Glass (Philip Glass)
DS: As mentioned in the introduction to this playlist, the awkwardly coined term “classical music” can hardly describe the vast amount of music that still continues to live on and reproduce. This collection of chamber works was written specifically for the recording studio, and in a way, for the Walkman (perhaps hardly any of you know what it is anymore). Glass intended to introduce his music to a younger generation. Each of Glassworks’ six movements is less than eight minutes long, and all of them can stand alone as individual pieces. If you have long held prejudices against “classical music,” this postmodern album may be able to change your mind.
Absolute Jest (2012): John Adams (Saint Lawrence Quartet; Michael Tilson Thomas/San Francisco Symphony Orchestra)
DS: Absolute Jest was commissioned by the San Francisco Symphony for its 100th anniversary, and the piece itself is full of both obvious and secret quotations of Beethoven. The most obvious ones are from the C-sharp minor quartet, the Große Fugue, and the Ninth Symphony; as Adams puts it, “such materials are being put through a John Adams machine,” outputting what seems to be Beethoven but deep down is pure John Adams. For those Beethoven fans (Bernie Sanders among them), finding the Beethoven quotes can be like solving a mystery puzzle, and those who aren’t can still appreciate the joy and fun this piece embodies.
Mad Rush (1989): Philip Glass (Philip Glass)
DX: I’m a sucker for solo piano, but I’m usually more of a Chopin and Ravel kind of guy. For people like me, Glass’s Mad Rush is a needed reminder that complexity is not always necessary for solo piano. Pretty much the same melodic line repeats, reforms itself, and changes ever so slightly over the course of 15 minutes, but it never becomes dull or even seems repetitive. It’s one of those pieces that remains beautiful no matter how long you listen to it: quite the accomplishment for something so minimal. There’s something cinematic about it, too. Perhaps it is a cold winter day in the streets of Manhattan, and someone has just started for home …
On the Transmigration of Souls (2002): John Adams
DX: There aren’t many composers who can claim to have created a masterful classical composition that begins by playing pre-recorded tape, but that is what Adams has done in On the Transmigration of Souls. The piece was commissioned as a memorial for the victims of the September 11 attacks on the World Trade Center and is scored for orchestra, SATB choir, and children’s choir in addition to the aforementioned tape. The tape plays sound effects and voices that repeat the names of victims as well as the word “missing” in the piece’s exposition, creating a vividly eerie effect when juxtaposed with the wordless chorus. It gets pretty intense later on, so be sure to stay for all 25 minutes.