Showing posts with label Michael Nyman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michael Nyman. Show all posts

Friday, May 9, 2025

Recent English Experimental Music







[Various Artists]
Recent English Experimental Music
London, UK: Audio Arts, 1976
Audio Cassette
Edition size unknown

Volume 3 Number 2 of the Audio Arts cassette series features British composers, with a very similar line up to Brian Eno’s Obscure Records releases (Gavin Bryars, Christopher Hobbs, Michael Nyman, John White). 

Reissued in 1982. 




Monday, February 19, 2024

Michael Nyman | Decay Music




Michael Nyman
Decay Music
London, UK: Obscure/Island Records, 1976
12” vinly LP, 49:53 
Edition size unknown


Decay Music is the first LP release by the critic/composer who would go on to write operas1 and score countless films2, including a best selling soundtrack album, for Jane Campion's Oscar winning film The Piano. 

Produced by Brian Eno, as the sixth release on his Obscure label (use the hashtag below to see the first five), Nyman's album features two tracks, one per side. Both are built around the concept of decay. The b-side is a fairly slight work called "Bell Set No.1". The A-side is a beautiful piece titled "1-100". The simple premise is that there are a hundred chords and the performers cannot play the next until he can no longer hear the previous. I was happy to think about the work, without hearing it, for years. 

Gavin Bryars, who (along with Nyman) assisted Eno in the selection of material for the label, was not a fan of Decay Music: 

"The Obscure album he did is incredibly trivial, just him playing through these chords . . . Nyman started writing music because he worked with Steve Reich as a kind of agent and he saw that with Steve’s stuff, you play a little cell then play it over and over again, changing it a bit as you go, and a lot of people come and hear it and say, “Great!”’

Almost thirty years after its first release the recording was issued on compact disk, to coincide with the composer's 60th birthday, in 2004. As a bonus track, the original full-speed recording of "1-100" is included. 


"It was called Decay Music, which was produced by Brian Eno. Brian was brilliant. He persuaded Polydor that he should produce – or curate, as we would call it now – a label of what was still called “experimental music.” I think there are ten releases from 1975 to about 1978.

At that time, I’d written precisely two pieces of music. I played him one piece called “Bell Set No. 1,” which is a kind of fake Steve Reich percussion equivalent for four organs. We recorded that and Brian said, “I’d put this as the B-side of someone else’s album.” I said, “I want the whole album to myself.” He said, “What else do you have?” I said, “I have this piece called ‘1 – 100,’” which was the soundtrack to my very first [Peter] Greenaway film.

It was a solo piano piece where you sustain a hundred chords running from the top of the piano to the bottom of the piano. When the sound has died away, you play the next chord. It’s an old Morton Feldman idea. So, we recorded it. Lasted about 18 minutes and Brian said, “Is that it?” I said, “Yes,” and he said, “Well, that’s not very interesting,” and I said, “Well, I have this idea,” which I came up with on the spur of the moment. I said, “Let’s play four versions of the piece simultaneously,” so they all existed on their kind of own time and space and there’s a lot of overlapping of chords.

After I was done, something really fascinating happened. Brian sent me a dub or copy of the recording to check over. I put this 7-inch reel on it and started listening to it. I really enjoyed the mix of the piece, and listened for 15, 20, 25 minutes and I thought, “What’s happening? This is an 18-minute piece and I’m still listening to it at 30 minutes.”

I realized that I was listening to it at half-speed, and it sounded fantastic. I immediately rang Brian and said, “Look, I have accidentally created a sound world that we didn’t intend and we have to release this piece. Play it at half-speed!”"
- Michael Nyman



1. Nyman’s operas include The Man Who Mistook His Wife For a Hat (1986), Facing Goya (2000), Letters, Riddles and Writs (1991), Love Counts (2005) and the never-completed Tristam Shandy, based on his favorite novel, The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman, by Laurence Sterne. 

2. His film scores include The Ogre (1996), Man on Wire (2008), The Libertine (2005), The Claim (2000), Ravenous (1999), The End of the Affair (1999) and numerous others. He has collaborated extensively with Michael Winterbottom and Peter Greenaway. 




Thursday, January 25, 2024

The Complete Obscure Records Collection 1975-1978
















[Gavin Byars, John Cage, Brian Eno, Michael Nyman, etc.]
The Complete Obscure Records Collection 1975-1978
Milan, Italy: Dialago, 2023
33 x 33 x 7 cm.
Edition of 1000 numbered copies


For my money (a not insubstantial amount, here) this collection represents Brian Eno at his very, very best. Not just Discreet Music (Obscure #3) - which I’ll take over Music for Airports as his single finest recording - but also the label itself, and it’s entire output, collected here. This is Eno as curator, as evangelist, as collaborator, and as thinker.1 

Obscure Records published ten albums between 1975 and 1978, most of them excellent, a few of them sublime. The esoteric boutique “Special Price" label  began as an outlet to diseminate the work of overlooked experimental composers, and as a way for Eno to leverage his profile at Island Records to satisfy his wider interests. Eschewing truly difficult and dissonant works, he selected pieces that were certainly outside the mainstream, but that might have the potential to reach larger audiences. 

“The music on Obscure was not turbulent or wildly confrontational,” writes David Toop (Obscure 4#) in the new set’s liner notes, “but it did signal a rejection of certain well-established trends in 20th century modernism - the world of serialism, high seriousness, ultra-complex scores, academic electro-acoustic music and free jazz.” 

"The main decision is whether I like a piece or not,” Eno told Time Out magazine in 1975, who called the label "the best thing to have happened in the British industry since LPs.” Island Records bankrolling the project was an act of faith, but for Eno it was religion. He was convinced that the intersection of pop music and experimental composition was the most compelling area, and that others might come to agree, given the right promotion. 

A meagre £6,000 was not the ideal figure for such promotion, but the shoestring budget allowed the label to move forward without much interference from Island. Eno had similarly promised them that he could record four discs - in the off-hours at the studio - for the cost of one pop record. He often served as producer and ended up designing the album covers himself, also.

Record labels with a strong visual identity (SST, 4AD, Factory, etc.) help inspire loyalty among listeners, and it may have been this rationale (and not the minuscule budget) that led to all ten LPs being issued with an almost uniform cover. They all feature the same cover graphic - a collage by John Bonis - which has been overprinted with black ink, distinguished only by different window reveals on each. This also helps each individual album feel like it is a piece of a larger puzzle.2

Eno enlisted composer Gavin Bryars and Michael Nyman to to assist in the selection of material, and also to contribute albums themselves. The resulting ten discs featured works by John Adams, Bryars, Harold Budd, John Cage, Max Eastley, Eno, Christopher Hobbs, Nyman, the Penguin Café Orchestra, Jan Steele, David Toop, John White, and the painter Tom Phillips, who had introduced Eno to avant-garde music at the Ipswich Civic College. 

Bryars also proposed projects by Scratch Orchestra mainstay Howard Skempton, James Tenney, Ingram Marshall, Daniel Lentz, and Michael Byron. Some were rejected outright, and others fell victim to the realities of running a record label as a side hustle. 

In a letter to Robert Wyatt (who provides some vocals on Obscure #5), Eno outlined some of his larger plans for the label: 

"I have thought of a few interesting projects for Obscure records. The first is to invite fifty composers from all traditions each to write a piece of music beginning in C and ending in G and observing a metronome pulse of sixty. Then we’d perform them all and link them all together to make an album . . . Recently I’ve been more and more impressed by the old jazz session technique of recording, and I think we might well flourish under those circumstances. Or an alternative is to use the jazz session approach and then overdub onto it in the rock sixteen-track style. Another idea that I thought might be nice is some- thing of this nature – “Popular Music arranged by Unpopular Com- posers” – so it would include “Duke of Earl” arranged by Gavin Bryars, “Not Fade Away” arranged by Robert Fripp, “Louie Louie” arranged by Fred Frith, etc., etc., etc. Or alternatively it could use only songs based on the “Louie Louie” chord progression.”

Sadly, none of these projects came to fruition. 

Eno’s increasing profile both helped and hindered the series. Bryars recalls in the liner notes that it became shorthand amongst his peers when they were too busy or unavailable to joke “I can’t, I’m in Berlin recording with Bowie!”. The label ceased operations when Eno moved to New York City, and not entirely without acrimony. 

I interviewed Bryars once and brought up the slight sense of animosity I perceived when he spoke about Eno and Obscure. 

“Nobody got paid!” he replied, testily. He alleged that no contracts were ever issued, only handshake agreements, even after Island was absorbed into the Polygram group in 1976. Artists reportedly never saw sales reports or royalties. “We got paid for doing the sessions and that was it."

A brief lawsuit followed, but it was determined that recoupable losses were too insignificant to continue. 

Bryars apparently spearheaded the efforts of this re-release, though his liner notes still betray his frustrations. However, he is quoted in David Sheppard’s book On Some Faraway Beach: The Life and Times of Brian Eno, acknowledging the impact on his career: "Brian definitely went out on a limb. He backed something that was certainly not fashionable, we weren’t very well known and were even despised by the musical establishment. Those Obscure records were important – the reason many of us were able to work outside of England for example. Brian led us into all sorts of unexpected territory – and led a lot of unexpected people into our territory too.”

For his part, Eno has only ever had good things to say about Bryars: "I’ve always liked Gavin, and in my opinion his influence on the music scene has been greater than he’s given credit for.” 

“I primarily started the label to release those two pieces of Gavin’s that came out on the first album,” Eno is quoted in Bradford Bailey’s liner note text. “I thought they were such great pieces of music and the story associated with them was so powerful, that I felt like a lot of people would like them if they were actually able to hear them”. 

He was not wrong: The A-Side has been reissued several times (see next post) and the B-side3 hit number one on the classical charts, almost twenty years later (with a little help from the star power of Tom Waits). 

But Bryars' LP was not successful upon initial release, and only two of the ten sold in numbers that would make Island pleased about their investment: Eno’s own Discreet Music, and The Music of the Penguin Cafe. 

But as a brief vanity label (as it might have been pejoratively called) it was remarkably consistent and achieved its goal of bringing greater attention to these artists. 

Bryars went on to a successful career as a composer and performer. Nyman sold three million copies of his soundtrack to Jane Campion’s 1993 film The Piano. Harold Budd increased his profile with future collaborations with Eno, and later the Cocteau Twins. The Penguin Cafe Orchestra performed together for 24 years and after founding member Simon Jeffes died his son Arthur continued the project with the abbreviated name Penguin Cafe. PCO songs have appeared in numerous films, from directors ranging from John Hughes to Oliver Stone. David Toop collaborated with the Flying Lizards, Thurston Moore, Bob Cobbing, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Camille Norment, Akio Suzuki and Elaine Mitchener. He is also the author of several books on Hip-Hop, Ambient Music and Audio Art. Tom Philips (who died exactly a year before this reissue was released) was awarded an OBE in 2002.

This deluxe new box set collects all ten recordings and a 126-page booklet featuring new essays by Bryars (The History), Bradford Bailey (The Obscure Sounds Of A Quiet Revolution), Max Eastley (Sculpture In The Recording Studio, 1978), Richard Bernas (John Cage's "Voices And Instruments"), Tom Recchion (Epiphanies) and Walter Rovere.

Housed in a lavish linen-covered clamshell box and released in a numbered edition of 1000, this feels more like an art edition than a collection of records. It’s a massive set (it took me a while to find the right place to store it, it’s larger than my turntable) with a price-tag to match4. It warrants several posts, so - for the next week (time permitting) I’ll feature a quick write up of each of the ten recordings. Obscure #1 alone, requires several posts, to accommodate it’s A and B-side, and the various reissues of both. 




1. Obscure Records appears only as a footnote in the two main published volumes about Eno’s work: Eric Tamm’s Brian Eno: His Music and the Vertical Color of Sound and Christopher Scoates’ Brian Eno: Visual Music. David Sheppard’s biography On Some Faraway Beach: The Life and Times of Brian Eno dedicates a couple of pages to the label. 

2. Later reissues of Eno’s Discreet Music, Harold Budd’s The Pavillion of Dreams and Music from the Penguin Cafe all had new covers.

3. The idea of a musician or band being defined by a b-side holds great appeal to me, for some reason. I once had a longer list, but “How Soon is Now” by the Smiths and “Dear God” by XTC come to mind. 

4. My only gripes: the steep, steep price tag, wasting a good chunk of the book reprinting redundant liner notes that are already available on the facsimile LP sleeves, and the hefty customs charge I was not expecting (Amazon.ca did not state it was arriving from Germany). 




"Arriving just in time for the festive period, The Complete Obscure Records Collection is confirmation that Santa believes I have been a good boy this year. It’s still remarkable to think what a different music ‘business’ existed some 50 years ago, and how a label such as this could even have existed. Obscure Records was initially conceived by Brian Eno as a vehicle for the work of his yet to be recorded friend, Gavin Bryars, before taking on grander ambitions. Having just departed Roxy Music in 1973, Eno became fascinated with the dynamic London experimental music scene, and even participated himself, with Cornelius Cardew’s Scratch Orchestra and Portsmouth Sinfonia. Originally issued between 1975 and 1978, these recordings remain inspirational, important and groundbreaking. Indeed, the first suite of works: Gavin Bryars’ The Sinking of the Titanic, Christopher Hobbs, John Adams, and Gavin Bryars’ Ensemble Pieces, Brian Eno’s Discreet Music, David Toop and Max Eastley’s New and Rediscovered Musical Instrument - are all essential listening for openminded souls. Though you may have some of these recordings, the majority have been out of print for years, with a number having never received a CD reissue. The vinyl and CD sets are accompanied by a lavishly illustrated booklet, with rare photos, archival material and texts by Gavin Bryars, Bradford Bailey, David Toop, Max Eastley, Richard Bernas, and Tom Recchion. Finally, the fantasy of this set ever existing, is a reality."
- Robin Rimbaud





Thursday, December 7, 2023

Michael Nyman | Bentham & Hooker






Michael Nyman
Bentham & Hooker
Cullompton, Devon : Beau Geste Press, 1973
[106] pp,  15 cm., softcover
Edition of 100


Michael Nyman is best known for the multi-platinum selling soundtrack to Jane Campion's award winning 1993 film The Piano. Before that he was the celebrated composer of scores for over a decade of Peter Greenaway feature films: The Draughtsman's Contract (1982),  A Zed & Two Noughts (1985), Drowning by Numbers (1988), The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover (1989) and Prospero's Books (1991)1. 

Prior to this he was known as a music critic. His 1968 article in The Spectator magazine about Cornelius Cardew is the first published work to use the term "minimalism" in relation to music. His 1974 book Experimental Music: Cage and Beyond explored the influence of John Cage on contemporary music and visual art (an entire chapter is dedicated to Fluxus, for example). 

In 1976 he released his first recording, Decay Music, on Brian Eno's short-lived by highly influential Obscure Records2. Considered a compositional breakthrough for Nyman, Decay Music was a kind of conceptual exercise borrowed from Morton Feldmann. One hundred piano chords are played - from the top of the piano to the bottom - and the performer can only play the next chord when the first has stopped ringing out. 

Bentham & Hooker arrived three years prior, and this biographical preamble is precisely because I can find absolutely no information about the title. 

The auction site offering it for sale (along with two other Beau Geste Press titles) lists only the following sentence: Mimeographed poetic experiment by the composer and music critic. 

Bentham & Hooker is a taxonomic system for seed plants, dating back to the mid-19th century. The British botanists George Bentham (1800–1884) and Joseph Dalton Hooker (1817–1911) developed the system based on the principle of natural affinities. As it predates Darwinism,  it does not take evolution into account. 

It's easy to see how Nyman's interest in process and minimalism could collide in a work inspired by the Bentham & Hooker system. 

I once mentioned an Aphex Twin work that I couldn't confirm the existence of and Robin Rimbaud (who produces work under the name of Scanner) reached out with both information and images. If anyone can provide the same for this Nyman title produced in such a small edition size - fifty years ago! - I'd be grateful. 



1. Nyman was unavailable to score Greenaway's The Belly of an Architect in 1987, so Wim Mertens (whose 1983 book on Minimalism featured a forward by Nyman) took over, with a soundtrack of very Nyman-esque music. 

2. The series of ten Obscure Records also featured classics like Gavin Bryars' The Sinking of the Titanic (b/w with another classic: Jesus' Blood Never Failed Me Yet), Eno's best ambient work Discreet Music, the debut LP from the Penguin Cafe Orchestra, as well as discs by Harold Budd, John Cage, David Toop and others. 



Tuesday, September 19, 2023

Michael Nyman | Decay Music



Michael Nyman
Decay Music
London, UK: Obscure/Island Records, 1976
49:53 12" LP
Edition size unknown


Three of the ten releases from Obscure Records (1975 to 1978) are among my very favourite albums of all time. This isn't one of them, but it is a solid entry in the series. 

Decay Music is the first LP release by the critic/composer who would go on to write operas (The Man Who Mistook His Wife For a Hat, etc.) and a best selling soundtrack album (the score to Jane Campion's Oscar winning film The Piano). 

Produced by Brian Eno, as the sixth release on his temporary Obscure label, Nyman's album features two tracks, one per side. Both are built around the concept of decay. The b-side is a fairly slight work called "Bell Set No.1". The A-side is a beautiful piece titled "1-100". The simple premise is that there are a hundred chords and the performers cannot play the next until he can no longer hear the previous. I was happy to think about the work, without hearing it, for years. 

Almost thirty years after its first release the recording was issued on compact disk, to coincide with the composer's 60th birthday, in 2004. As a bonus track, the original full-speed recording of "1-100" is included. 


"It was called Decay Music, which was produced by Brian Eno. Brian was brilliant. He persuaded Polydor that he should produce – or curate, as we would call it now – a label of what was still called “experimental music.” I think there are ten releases from 1975 to about 1978.

At that time, I’d written precisely two pieces of music. I played him one piece called “Bell Set No. 1,” which is a kind of fake Steve Reich percussion equivalent for four organs. We recorded that and Brian said, “I’d put this as the B-side of someone else’s album.” I said, “I want the whole album to myself.” He said, “What else do you have?” I said, “I have this piece called ‘1 – 100,’” which was the soundtrack to my very first [Peter] Greenaway film.

It was a solo piano piece where you sustain a hundred chords running from the top of the piano to the bottom of the piano. When the sound has died away, you play the next chord. It’s an old Morton Feldman idea. So, we recorded it. Lasted about 18 minutes and Brian said, “Is that it?” I said, “Yes,” and he said, “Well, that’s not very interesting,” and I said, “Well, I have this idea,” which I came up with on the spur of the moment. I said, “Let’s play four versions of the piece simultaneously,” so they all existed on their kind of own time and space and there’s a lot of overlapping of chords.

After I was done, something really fascinating happened. Brian sent me a dub or copy of the recording to check over. I put this 7-inch reel on it and started listening to it. I really enjoyed the mix of the piece, and listened for 15, 20, 25 minutes and I thought, “What’s happening? This is an 18-minute piece and I’m still listening to it at 30 minutes.”

I realized that I was listening to it at half-speed, and it sounded fantastic. I immediately rang Brian and said, “Look, I have accidentally created a sound world that we didn’t intend and we have to release this piece. Play it at half-speed!”"
- Michael Nyman



Sunday, May 14, 2017

Beau Geste Press














Following the 1968 Tlatelolco massacre - in which a police force armed with secret snipers suppressed a student protest and killed between 300 and 400 civilians - artists Felipe Ehrenberg and Martha Hellion left Mexico for exile in England. Along with their two children, they moved into a rented home in Devonshire. In this south England manor they formed The Beau Geste Press, with artist and art historian David Mayor, in 1971. The collective was dedicated to publishing the work of visual poets, conceptual artists and neo-dadaists, many of whom were associated with Fluxus. Their motto was "Our Press is not a business, it’s a way of life."

The Beau Geste Press ran for five years, publishing artists' books, catalogues, flyers, posters, postcards, photographs and poems, alongside an in-house magazine called Schmuck (see last week's posts or the hashtag below). An exhibition at the CAPC Contemporary Art Museum Bordeaux collects these works together for the first major survey of the collective, which curator Alice Motard calls "one of the most productive and influential publishing ventures of its generation."

Described as "a community of duplicators, printers and artisans", the collective employed both experimental and artisanal printing techniques and graphic design, included folded and cut pages, stencilled text, rubber stamps, collage and elaborate inserts.  In addition to publishing the works of its own members, the group also produced projects for international artists such as Ulises Carrión, Helen Chadwick, Robert Filliou, Ken Friedman, Kristján Gudmundsson, Takehisa Kosugi, Opal L.Nations, Michael Nyman, Carolee Schneemann, Yukio Tsuchiya and Ben Vautier.

The exhibition closes two weeks from today, on May 28th. For more information, visit the gallery website: www.capc-bordeaux.fr.





Monday, January 28, 2013

Michael Nyman | Experimental Music: Cage and Beyond




Michael Nyman
Experimental Music: Cage and Beyond
New York City, USA: Schirmer Books, 1974.
154 pp., 25 x 15 x 1.8 cm., cloth
Edition size unknown


Michael Nyman remains best known for his score for Jane Campion's The Piano, and for his longstanding creative relationship with director Peter Greenaway. Nyman scored films all of Greenaway's features from The Falls in 1980 to Prospero's Books in 1991, after which they had a falling out over what Nyman saw as a disrespectful use of his music.

Six years prior to their collaborations, Nyman published this early look at experimental music. The book looks at composers and musicians (John Cage, John Cale, Gavin Bryars, Earle Brown, Cornelius Cardew, Henry Cowell, Philip Glass, Steve Reich, Terry Riley, etc.) as well as artists (George Brecht, Robert Ashley, Dick Higgins, Alvin Lucier, Nam June Paik, Robert Rauschenberg, etc.).

The chapters include:

1. Towards (a definition of) experimental music
2. Backgrounds
3. Inauguration 1950–60: Feldman, Brown, Wolff, Cage
4. Seeing, hearing: Fluxus
5. Electronic systems
6. Indeterminacy 1960–70: Ichiyanagai, Ashley, Wolff, Cardew, Scratch Orchestra
7. Minimal music, determinacy and the new tonality

Many scores are reproduced, though it is noted that copyright issues prevented the inclusion of notation by Cage, Christian Wolff or Morton Feldman. The second edition includes a new forward by Brian Eno (who included Nyman as one of the ten artists in his Obscure Records series in the mid-seventies) an updated discography, and a historical overview by the author.


The first ten pages of the reissue can be viewed here.

*Nyman was unavailable to provide music for the 1987 Greenaway film The Belly of an Architect, which was scored by Wim Mertens, who has also published a book on 'experimental music': American Minimal Music, 1988