MW: When/Where/How did you get started in music?
RG: In the womb, I suppose, listening and feeling. Right? Same with us all? Then kid's musical toys… but everyone gets these things as gifts.
During grade school a theremin was demonstrated onstage in the auditorium - wow! This was part of a traveling show that also included musical wine glasses, thunder machine and other strange musical/Foley devices. Pretty cool for grade school.
I showed an interest in music, a knack, and around the age of 8 I was enrolled in piano lessons. John Cage would have loved it! We didn't own a piano. So I was sent home with a cardboard keyboard, silent as snow, to practice on. You see, I had to imagine hearing the bad notes as I practiced. I have a lively imagination, so I was careful not to hit these bad notes, sparing myself from having to imagine them too often.
I explored sound sources, unusual sources, all the while. Like singing through spinning fans and tubes, whacking telephone poles to hear the wires sing… things like that.
MW: What were some musicians and bands that stood out to you or had an impression on you, either growing up or even as an adult? Do you still listen to that music for inspiration or for entertainment?
RG: My sister and I "Sang Along With Mitch" as kids (Bob [Ostertag] will explain). Don't laugh - great voice and music lessons here if one tries the various harmonies. Pop radio (Beatles, 1964, etc) followed. But soon thereafter I discovered circuit-bending, and of course, the entire paradigm changed.
A little later, driven on by the curiosities of bending, I learned of the experimental and electronic section of Cincinnnati's main library, which kept me busy for a summer, 1969-70 maybe. You know, the Columbia-Princeton, Cage, Tudor, Subotnick, Babbitt, etc., catalogs; the well-published academic recordings. Some were impressive… the Son Nova 1988 work comes to mind: Arel, Davidovsky, Ussachevsky.
Still, this was so different from my own synthesis that I can't say I was influenced, musically, by this work. But I was fortified knowing I was not the only person tuning-out Lawrence Welk.
The pinnacle of my discovery in the library was Penderecki, whom I still listen to (and recently met, see attachment). Full (or fuller) orchestra and choir expressing these unusual compositions was exciting.
Interesting rhythm structures (Harry Partch, John McLaughlin and the Mahavishnu Orchestra, Stick Men [Tony Levin, Pat Mastelotto, Michael Bernier], Fred Frith and Chris Cutler [hey Bob!], Cpt. Beefheart, etc.) always interest me, plus much "world music" (chant, gamelan, such), not to mention purely aleatoric compositions and "found" music.
People are surprised that I can't name famous personalities of electronic music as my heroes, my inspiration. Fact is, I simply was too young.
I was 14, pre-music-library, when my first creative short circuit happened. I knew absolutely nothing about academic experimentalism. My ignorance of this history, my naivety, added to my excitement navigating this strange new world, and helped shape circuit-bending's renegade nature, a real (and worthy) attraction to chance-taking explorers.
I mean, the big names here were twice my age when they broke their ground. They were in universities surrounded by intellectuals. They had scientists, engineers and professors to bounce ideas off of. They were well-funded, well-published and well-equipped.
I, on the other hand, was a child, penniless, and alone. Instead of fellow professors to stand with, I had the occasional cricket hopping across mom's basement floor.
Still, I had all I needed - a circuit that spoke to me in a fresh, wild musical language, and what seemed like an eternity stretching out in front of me in which I could dig deeper into this realm - an awareness that distinguished me, as it turns out, from my contemporaries: I saw a universe where others saw a star. My exploration was not a passing experiment. I was consumed by this discovery, and I explored it and wrote about it as Marco Polo or Columbus might: a new land needing its own name and map.
MW: Did you want to make a living in music?
RG: Never. Not even a fantasy. I do things, then and now, for the enjoyment of discovery and a completeness that occurs through composing. That's enough for me. I don't desire to be a "performing artist."
MW: Are you satisfied with your decision?
RG: Sure.
MW: Any regrets?
RG: As a writer for EMI, having decided to expose my findings to the public, I proceeded with one goal in mind: I wanted to increase the planet's experimental instrumentarium, therefore expanding the understanding and appreciation of music - further unlocking it.
As an inventor, I was conditioned to NOT divulge the concepts behind my work. But as a musician and sound-lover, I proceeded, hoping my writing and music would open this out-of-theory entrance into electronics for others, bring forward new music, ideas and machines. My intention was to also direct my teaching at "street level" musicians. That is, persons like myself at 14, who didn't have the resources or connections to do things the traditional way (wait until college age, find the money, survive the courses). It is due to this 'leveling factor' that the tech of circuit-bending has actualized more young electronic artists around the world than the work of any other professional in the field.
To be fair, the teaching of the academic leaders was not really aimed far outside academia. Presentations outside the universities were more in the form of entertainment than instruction. Recordings and books were marketed similarly - to patrons of academia, or "the arts."
I hoped, in my instructional writings, to address this same fine arts audience. But also, as mentioned, the other ninety-percent of the world's people - those who, for whatever reason, will not have the opportunity to attend as much schooling as they might like. My aim was to get viable experimental instruments into their hands also, and like NOW! Chance electronics does this.
So, no, my sacrifices have not been surprises. I have no regrets. I really enjoy what I do (and I do way more than experimental music, you might know if you're seen the 'bio' in my book. I'm happily busy busy busy).
MW: Advice for a student musician afraid of failure, or worse, becoming cliché and boring in his work?
RG: Great work comes from real inspiration, not assignment or worry. So positioning is as important as composing. Throw something new into the brew, anything, and get to work. This is enough for most composers.
I might approach composing as a challenge - how can I create a dramatic work of music using only the harsh sounds of a plastic radio being destroyed (my requiem). Or - what does this new instrument I've designed do best; can I write a piece for it (my threnody). Or - I have a concept I want to illustrate; what instruments or sounds say what I'm feeling (garage band soundtrack to my new film Ant Be). While each of these projects derive from very different materials and concepts, they are alike in that each structure excited my expectations of new. New materials, sounds and constructions. New inventions.
MW: In addition to my listening experience, much of the reading I have done in the field indicates that electronic musician have taken electronic music to its obvious, logical, and ultimate conclusion point where all the music sounds like Alvin Lucier-esque white noise droning, each artist's work indistinguishable from each others. What are your thoughts on current electronic music?
RG: All the significant movements in the arts are as sure to be declared a finality as they are to be replaced. I can tell you with certainty that I, still, feel the doldrums of high-end processing are wider than those within street-level naive experimentalism - that fragile 'know/don't know' dichotomy, where risk is unrecognized, is exceptionally fertile ground.
MW: What are your current and future plans or projects?
RG: A couple books about my experience within electronic music and invention are in front of me. I have a traveling show in the planning stages. Maybe another Bent Be In. Some good music and electronics and film work at hand. I hope to find time to play my erhu under summer pines, and maybe, this year, finish my Egyptian spirit detector and Psycho Saucer contraption. Not kidding.
Thanks for this chance to help (I hope) with your program, and my best to Bob [Ostertag] (remember - all we are saying is give chance a piece ;-)
Q R Ghazala
(pic is me and Krzysztof Penderecki discussing our threnody work after his spectacular performance in Cincinnati a few years ago - I'm presenting him with my CD)