A piece of music lasting 639 years

As the performance started, there wasn’t much to see or hear, because it began with a 17-month-long rest.

On 5 October at 4pm, I will be standing in a German church, bearing witness to a remarkable act of faith. Faith not in an eternal, higher power but in something much more precarious: a future in which one man’s playful idea can be carried to sublime, ridiculous lengths.
 
The church of Sankt Burchardi, in the small town of Halberstadt, Germany, is – at this very moment – playing host to an extraordinary musical performance. And if the faith of its organisers proves well founded, you will be able to reread that last sentence at any point in your life and it will still be true.
 
The performance is being given on a purpose-built pipe organ, and it isn’t due to finish until well into the 27th century.
 
Electric bellows will keep the air moving through the organ during the intervening years as small white sandbags depress wooden keys for decades on end. The concert has been designed to progress so slowly that whole lives will be lived in the space of a single note.
 
The piece of music that is being granted such unhurried attention is the enigmatic ORGAN2/ASLSP by John Cage, one of the most influential and infamous composers of the 20th century. He wrote 4’33 – a piece consisting of just over four and a half minutes of silence. It has since been recorded by Frank Zappa, played by the BBC Symphony Orchestra, and in 2010 became the subject of an internet campaign to make it the Christmastime number one instead of the X-Factor winner’s song.
 
In 1985, Cage wrote ASLSP, a composition for piano whose title also serves as a rough acronym for the intended pace of performance: As SLowaS Possible. (It usually lasts between 20 and 70 minutes.)
 
Two years later, he adapted his piece for an instrument better suited to the intended tempo, and ORGAN2/ASLSP was born. Because of the way an organ works, each note can, in theory, last for an infinite moment.
 
Taking advantage of this, a group of composers, organists, musicologists and philosophers – including a number of Cage’s former collaborators – developed, over the course of 1997 and 1998, the notion at the heart of the current performance, namely, that to present the piece as Cage instructed, it should be played over an instrument’s entire natural lifespan.
 
In Halberstadt, the group found the ideal venue for their idea, the abandoned St Burchardi Church. The next question was: how slowly should the piece be played?
 
The answer came from a quirk of history. The first organ known to feature a modern, 12- tone keyboard was completed in Halberstadt’s cathedral in 1361, 639 years before the end of the second millennium.
 
To mirror this, the John Cage Organ Project’s version of ORGAN2 /ASLSP will last for 639 years. It began on 5 September 2001 –what would have been Cage’s 89th birthday – and is scheduled to end on 5 September 2640.
 
As the performance started, there wasn’t much to see or hear, because it began with a 17-month-long rest.
 
Since then, notes have been added to or subtracted from the organ’s powerful drone 12 times.
 
Each change now draws thousands to Halberstadt. Visitors stand inside the bare old walls of the church and experience the fleeting moment when the project’s faith in future generations is resoundingly restated.
 
Next month’s change will see a D-sharp, an A-sharp and an E sing out above the organ’s currently thrumming bass notes.
 
If you want to experience a sound change for yourself, try to be there that Saturday. The next change isn’t due for another seven years and that’s quite a long wait.
Caged music: visitors listen to the organ at St Burchadi Church, Halberstadt. Oliver Hartung/ New York Times/ Contrasto

This article first appeared in the 30 September 2013 issue of the New Statesman, The Tory Game of Thrones

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Harry Styles: What can three blank Instagram posts tell us about music promotion?

Do the One Direction star’s latest posts tell us about the future of music promotion in the social media age - or take us back to a bygone era?

Yesterday, Harry Styles posted three identical, captionless blank images to Instagram. He offered no explanation on any other social network, and left no clue via location serves or tagged accounts as to what the pictures might mean. There was nothing about any of the individual images that suggested they might have significance beyond their surface existence.

And, predictably, they brought in over a million likes – and thousands of Styles fans decoding them with the forensic dedication of the cast of Silent Witness.

Of course, the Instagrams are deliberately provocative in their vagueness. They reminded me of Robert Rauschenberg’s three-panelled White Painting (1951), or Robert Ryman’s Untitled, three square blank canvases that hang in the Pompidou Centre. The composer John Cage claimed that the significance of Rauschenberg’s White Paintings lay in their status as receptive surfaces that respond to the world around them. The significance of Styles’s Instagrams arguably, too, only gain cultural relevance as his audience engages with them.

So what did fans make of the cryptic posts? Some posited a modelling career announcement would follow, others theorised that it was a nod to a Taylor Swift song “Blank Space”, and that the former couple would soon confirm they were back together. Still more thought this suggested an oncoming solo album launch.

You can understand why a solo album launch would be on the tip of most fans’ tongues. Instagram has become a popular platform for the cryptic musical announcement — In April, Beyoncé teased Lemonade’s world premiere with a short Instagram video – keeping her face, and the significance behind the title Lemonade, hidden.

Creating a void is often seen as the ultimate way to tease fans and whet appetites. In June last year, The 1975 temporarily deleted their Instagram, a key platform in building the band’s grungy, black and white brand, in the lead up to the announcement of their second album, which involved a shift in aesthetic to pastel pinks and bright neons.

The Weekend wiped his, too, just last week – ahead of the release of his new single “Starboy”. Blank Instagrams are popular across the network. Jaden Smith has posted hundreds of them, seemingly with no wider philosophical point behind them, though he did tweet in April last year, “Instagram Is A BlackHole Of Time And Energy.”

The motive behind Harry’s blank posts perhaps seems somewhat anticlimactic – an interview with magazine Another Man, and three covers, with three different hairstyles, to go along with it. But presumably the interview coincides with the promotion of something new – hopefully, something other than his new film Dunkirk and the latest update on his beloved tresses. In fact, those blank Instagrams could lead to a surprisingly traditional form of celebrity announcement – one that surfaces to the world via the print press.

Anna Leszkiewicz is a pop culture writer at the New Statesman.