Bang on a Can

In the seventies, like others who were marching in the streets, I wanted to make a revolution. I decided never again to compose for symphony orchestras because they don't like adventures and played only nineteenth-century music. So I formed an orchestra myself called De Volharding, which means "perseverance." The musicians were a combination of classically trained and jazz musicians, and the work was avant-garde minimal music that also dealt with jazz from the twenties. I don't feel comfortable with composers who always push ahead in one direction. I prefer the jacks-of-all-trades: the Purcells and Stravinskys, who are at home anywhere, borrowing here, stealing there, and who--don't forget--have composed much for theatre. I like the Bang On A Can cultural policy of changing the borders between uptown and downtown music, and I am very happy that they recognize in my music that same quality--it has the complex chromaticism of uptown music but pulls rhythms from jazz and pop. The use of the marimba and woodblocks explain the title of Hout, which means "wood." Although the whole work is in principle a strict canon, the successive voices are so close together that it is more like a melody sung in unison with ramifications.