In 1952 the composer John Cage wrote a work titled "4:33," which was first performed in a small theater near Woodstock, New York. A musician sat down at his piano, closed the keyboard, and set a stopwatch for 30 seconds. When that time was up he set it again for 2 minutes and twenty-three seconds. At the end of 2:23 the pianist set the clock for one minute and 40 seconds. Then he left the stage. The first performance of "4:33" was over. I don’t know if the clock went tick-tock-tick-tock loud enough to be heard, or if it made any sound when the time was up.

Later the pianist said the performance was one of the most intense listening experiences of his life. I’d have given more than a penny for his thoughts during that four and a half minutes. Possibly something like: "Four years at Juilliard … for this?"

First, you have to laugh, of course. Some people thought it really was a joke, but Cage insisted it wasn’t. And it IS interesting, the more I think about it. The idea was to force you to listen to the ambient sound in the room. Cage wasn’t interested in ordering his compositions so that they’d be played the same way every time. No two performances of "4:33" will be the same. If you stage it in winter, it will be a symphony of sniffles and coughs, maybe with the sound of the furnace going on and off. In the summer, with the windows open, the sounds of nature or of the city will predominate.

I wonder … would Cage have objected if people talked during the performance? Some people were pretty pissed off, not wanting to look like fools, so there was bound to have been some whispering. Seems to me that talking, even a shouted protest or argument, would all be part of the piece. And why bother to hire a pianist? I’m pretty sure I could have done the job just as well. In fact, during the last 4 minutes and 33 seconds I just DID perform it, lacking only the piano, and I was entirely satisfied with my interpretation. Not to blow my own horn, but I might go so far as to call it the most inspired rendering of the number in 49 years … actually, I DIDN’T blow a horn, come to think of it, but if I’d had one I’m sure it would have fit right into my rendition.

I think it was Cage who once orchestrated a performance involving several hundred boats floating on Lake Michigan. The skippers were signaled in some way to blow their horns at Cage’s direction. I’d like to have heard that one. I don’t know if he ever went any further in the "4:33" vein. Perhaps an ambient symphony: "43:30," or even an ambient operatic cycle, a la Wagner’s Ring: "4:33:00." Sounds pretty taxing, though. I wonder if he would have had the stamina to write such a work, considering how the creation of "4:33" must have worn him out. Maybe some shorter compositions, even one that could be performed millions of times per minute: "4 1/3 nanoseconds."

The NPR story I got this information from mentioned that "4:33" was going to be performed again, in the original venue, very soon. I wondered about cell phones. Seems to me the program ought to encourage everybody to leave their cell phones ON, and even to answer them if they ring.

And speaking of cell phones … Also on NPR I heard of a musical work that is being prepared using cell phones. It seems that with the newer, fancier phones you can do a lot with the ring. You can change the pitch and duration, you can have it play a bit of music, like "The Hallelujah Chorus." What will happen is that about fifty people with cell phones will sit in an auditorium. The composer will note their position and phone number, call them up, and program their phones according to his needs. Then a computer will begin dialing them and they’ll respond as they’ve been programmed to. The sample tones they played on the radio were interesting. The composer can create waves of sound, moving from one side of the auditorium to the other, among many other effects.

I just love avant garde art, people who are operating WAY out there on the fringes of art and of sanity itself, sometimes. Jackson Pollock flinging paint at his canvases. Picasso developing cubism. Georges Seurat painting with his tiny little dots of color. The Beatles directing a symphony orchestra to play from their lowest note to their highest, but not at the same tempo for "A Day in the Life." Pretty much anything by John Cage. It makes me laugh.