F
 
ZAUM

complete guide to the new music-theatre composition by Zachàr Laskewicz for 5 performers and tape

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The first complete performance of Zaum took place in November 1993 Ghent, Belgium as part of The Stekelbees Festival organized by Victoria,

a local theatre group. 

 

Performance details are included below:

 

                               direction:   Zachar Laskewicz

                             performers:   Anouk De Clercq, Tine Hens, Linde Tilley,

                                      Trui Vereecke & An Vercruysse

            choreographic assistance:   Kristina Neirynck

                  production assistance:   Herman De Roover & Jan De Pauw

                          lighting & sound:   Piet Depoortere

 

Photos used in this document were taken by Kurt Van de Elst during the ‘Stekelbees Festival’ performances.

 


 

INTRODUCTION

 

“In the theatre, a line is a sound, a movement is music and the gesture which emerges from a sound is like a key word in a sentence.”[1]

Ñ Antonin Artaud

 

Zaum is the name for a music-theatre composition derived from radical language based concepts introduced during a little understood period of art history close by the turn of the century:  Russian Futurism.  This composition takes the futurist theory and extends it through various sources of influence that seem in their own way to find connection with the work of these artists, particularly through their interest in the East.  The intention is to create a theatrical composition based on an alternative attitude to language where all theatrical and musical elements have the potential to be meaning-bearing vehicles in a type of  ‘music-language’ that is formed within the progress of the composition.  A theatrical structure is presented in which five performers move, speak and react to musical and vocal sounds coming from a prerecorded tape. Here the Russian futurist texts are used as the structural basis for the creation of this ‘language’, the ultimate aim being to present various levels of ambiguity that can provide other possibilities for signification in the theatre.

 

 

 

BACKGROUND

 

Russian futurism contrasted considerably to avant-garde art movements occurring around the same time in different parts of Europe, and was in fact a deliberate step away from Western influence.  The resulting work reflected a dichotomy:  a vision for the future, and an interest in ancient history.  This expressed itself through their highly innovative ways of rethinking language.  The Russian futurists remain to this day largely unrecognised and ignored, the dominant figure being the Italian futurists whose obsession with war, speed and the city makes them easier to classify under their chosen title.  There is no doubt that the Italian futurists changed the face of aesthetic values through their deconstruction of grammar, words and the pictorial image, reflecting their dislike for the rigid conventions of society.  This is the primary common factor between the Italian and the Russian futurists, although the Russians took these notions further, using this deconstruction to create something new, vital and constructive for the changing world.  The Russians certainly recognized this contrast, in fact they rejected the Italians and felt that they had surpassed them even before they became labelled with the name ‘futurists’. These artists in fact rejected Western Europe entirely and were interested in Eastern Philosophy:  Benedict Livshits, an important Russian futurist poet and theoretician, described the West and the East as completely different systems of aesthetic vision and said that the Russians should recognise themselves as Asians.

 

 

A group of artists recognised for the extremity of their experimental work became known as the ‘cubo-futurists’.  The name of this composition is taken from one of the primary theoretical innovations introduced by members of this group: Zaumni Yazyk (abbreviated zaum), meaning ‘trans-sense language.’  This is basically a form of poetic communication that redefined language itself, but not in terms of ‘meaning’ in the translatable sense:  according to the cubo-futurists, poetry using language restricted by strict referential meaning and grammatical structures was no longer a valid form of artistic communication. Poetry was extended to include non-referential sounds that could nevertheless be enjoyed ‘by themselves,’ an attitude that had previously been confined to music.  These linguistic innovations certainly extended beyond merely the meaningless stringing together of Russian sounds and into areas of communication that had rarely  been seriously considered.  This included the theatre:  Alexei Kruchenykh (1886-1969), one of the primary theoreticians of zaum language, said that he saw zaum as the only possibility for use in the new theatre and cinema. According to Jindrich Honzl, a member of the Prague structuralist school “with the advent of the cubo-futurist theatre new materials appeared on the stage, and formerly undreamed of things acquired various representative functions.”[2]

 

The purpose of this composition is to rediscover the theory of zaum language, and through this to dynamically present through performance an array of gradually transforming musical, theatrical and visual elements; a collage of sound, movement and action that can be interpreted on a number of different levels.  In this ‘rediscovery’ of the work of the Russian futurists, the poetry of three of the primary supporters of zaum has been integrated:  Velimir Khlebnikov (1885-1922), Alexei Kruchenykh and Vasily Kamensky (1884-1961).  Each had their own individual attitude to the use of zaum, presenting contrasting but equally valid concepts which resulted in the production of different poetic styles.  The zaum texts taken from these poets are presented in the performance in a manner that seems at first to be illogical or absurd, remaining faithful to cubo-futurist theatre.  On a deeper level, the more complex nature of zaum language is explored, the seeming illogicality giving way to a  broader discussion of the relationship between language, sound and music; something that concerned all the zaum poets, no matter how different the results were.

 

Velimir Khlebnikov was a dreamer and had a truly unusual vision;  his poetry deals with language as an infinitely redefinable medium, and historical fact on a constantly occurring time continuum.  In his poetry, he yearned for the past and antiquity, and was almost religiously devoted to the East.  For Khlebnikov, poetry was not an end in itself or a ‘realistic’ description of reality, but a means of exploration and discovery of language and new forms:  “he showed us aspects of language whose existence we did not even suspect.”[3]  Knowing the power of the word as manifested in charms and incantations, Khlebnikov dreamed of taming this power and of turning transrational language into a rational one, but with a difference.  Unlike the languages we use, this one would be a universal language of pure concepts clearly expressed by speech sounds.

 

Alexei Kruchenykh and Khlebnikov were the first poets to adopt zaum as a creative medium and they shared a close working relationship and friendship. Kruchenykh was to become the primary supporter and theoretician of zaum, which he saw as a leading mode of expression.  He believed that “trans-sense language was demanded by the confused character of contemporary life and served as an antidote to the paralysis of common language.”[4]   This was a reaction against the obsession with meaning, reason, psychology and philosophy presented by the conservative literary traditions.  The absurdity of Kruchenykh’s most experimental works was a very specific behaviour; it was different from the seemingly absurd with a hidden message, different also from a surrealistic suggestion of meaning through subconscious associations.  This absurdity was a totally undefinable combination of sounds and visual elements designed only to suggest new possibilities for experiencing language.[5] Although Kruchenykh’s zaum seems to be taking an extremist stance on language deconstruction, on closer examination an interesting duality is presented:  Kornei Chukovsky, a literary critic, commented on the primeval nature of this poetry.  He said that trans-sense language was not a ‘language’, but a “pre-language, pre-cultural, pre-historical, when there was no discourse, conversation, only cries and screams.”  The strange irony of the situation was that in their passion for the future, the futurists had “selected for their poetry the most ancient of the very ancient languages.”[6]

 

Vasily Kamensky presented an alternative emphasis  through his use of zaum: after postulating the ‘musical’ orientation of the word, Kamensky asserted the poet’s right to his own unique understanding and vision of poetic beauty so as to discover new poetic paths.  A Russian futurist critic wrote that “perhaps none has felt the sound as an aim in itself, as a unique joy as Vasily Kamensky.”[7]

 

The Russian futurists in their adoption of zaum language certainly caught more than a glimpse of what was to become the obsession of Antonin Artaud:  the creation of a new language unique to the theatre, where the word is broken away from its traditionally accepted meaning and discovered in a completely new form.  From his famous volume of theoretical essays The Theatre and its Double a clear image of this language can be found:

 

“The language of the theatre is, in effect, the language of the stage, which is dynamic and objective.  It is the sum of everything which can be put on a stage

in terms of objects, shapes, attitudes, and meanings.  But only to the extent  

where all these elements arrange themselves in the process and are cut off

from their immediate meaning, and endeavour, indeed, to create a true

language based on the sign, rather than based on the word.  That is where the

notion of symbolism based on the changing of meanings comes in.  Things will

be stripped of their immediate meaning and will be given a new one.”[8] 

 

STRUCTURE

 

The complete Zaum composition is a full scale three-movement work for five performers and tape.   The tape part is for electronic sounds as well as recordings of the performers themselves,[9]  reflecting a connecting series of parallel structures that unite the three movements.  These structures connect in a system of sounds and movements that are linked together by musical principles.  During the course of the work various ensemble pieces form and unform on stage, sometimes simultaneously, sometimes solo, in order to present different aspects of zaum communication where language is rethought as a musical system.  Choreographed movement and interaction between the tape and the live performance plays an important role.  The complete duration of the composition is around one hour, each of the three movements lasting about twenty minutes.  The zaum texts form the structural basis for the composition, uniting both the gestural, the vocal and the musical communicative forms.

 

The most important thematic element underlying Zaum is the use of texts that at first glance appear to be ‘meaningless’ in that they can not be translated into another language system.  This gives the composition freedom to explore alternative ways of looking at ‘meaning’ and more particularly to explore the relationship between sound, meaning and music: can music be considered a language?  It also opens the discussion of extending musical discourse by relating the musical structures to movements and spoken vocal patterns.  Although the texts seem to be to a large extent ‘meaningless’, there is actually nothing in this composition without ‘meaning’ or ‘purpose’.  The texts are used in contrasting ways to present different aspects of meaning-bearing performance in the theatre, beginning with story-telling and pantomime; through the questioning of language itself expressed by the creation of a new ‘meta-language’ defined completely through movement; finishing with a section based on the exploration of the semiotic possibilities of movement in musical performance.  Because the Russian texts adopted have no translatable ‘meaning’, the opportunity has been taken to fragment the words and restructure them musically into a mathematical whole, sometimes providing or suggesting new meanings where there previously was none. This is intended to play with notions of theatrical logic by forming this ‘language’ from elements of performance that would not normally be combined; words, movements and musical sounds.    Formed from elements that would appear at first glance to be entirely illogical, the composition creates its own ‘logical’ environment and becomes entirely coherent in its own context.

 

The composition involves the use of five characters who grow and develop within an artificial theatrical reality, only able to perform certain gestures and react to certain sounds which are ‘learnt’ as the work develops.[10]    Sometimes the regimented nature of the language systems presented within the composition are designed to emphasize the artificiality of our own concept of language, where our signification systems limit us to perceiving ourselves as beings within defined human environments.[11] At the same time, however, these smaller systems are revealed to form part of a larger entirety beyond the control of the performers, one which could form a model for our own predicament:  perhaps as perpetually involved actors we are also unable to perceive the presence of a larger system of significance. Could the apparently unexplainable, chaotic and intangible elements of our lives have further relevance than we are equipped to realize?  Are we in fact, in turn, observed by a malevolent and impassive audience? 

 

The composition has no ‘set’; place and absence of place are simultaneously created and destroyed by the performers who move within a central performance area.  The use of lighting and sound also plays a role in creating the space in which the performers move.  Costume design is relatively simple:  the performers are called on to wear a black costume that facilitates movement, each with a different coloured dress jacket.[12]   The performers are also required to wear the same type of hat, united both by colour and form. The purpose of this costume is to standardise the performers so that they can be used during the composition as an ‘instrument’ for the development.  Stage decor is restricted to the use of five matching chairs, preferably painted black to emphasize their neutrality.  At different times the composition calls for certain of  these stage elements to be used in ways that are not necessarily related to their traditional meaning-bearing function: for example, the hats become objects of great mystical significance at the beginning of the composition when they form the boundaries for a magic pentagon.   Another example is the gradual ‘dressing’ of the performers in the first part of the work, being symbolic of the learning of a language system and the acceptance of this system as a means of perceiving ‘reality’ within the composition.  The multi-functionary nature of these stage objects stretches the economy of means in the theatre, standing against the tradition of realistic dramatic representation in which the mobility of the sign relationship is limited:  in traditional Western theatre we generally expect the object being signified to be represented by a vehicle that has the direct characteristics of that object.  This is not the case, however, in the oriental theatre where far more semantic scope is permitted to each stage item. The theatre is in fact ‘stripped’ of unnecessary elements that have no direct significance.  Theatre worlds are created by use of lighting, interaction with the limited amount of stage props and especially the prerecorded musical compositions; all elements that in the context of this composition are given extended meaning-bearing possibilities.

 

The letters of the Russian language have been adopted as the major tools of musical development within the composition.  Adopting the Russian texts alienates the vocal sounds from their existing function in a meaning-bearing system because the sounds of every letter have to be learnt again and are thus distanced from the everyday spoken language of the performers.[13] Also the Russian letters form an interesting phonetic vocabulary where individual letters form complete sound groups rather than forming together into diphthongs as is common in many other European languages. The Russian words can therefore be easily fragmented and discovered for their sound value.  As such, sound ‘vocabularies’ are created through the deconstruction of zaum poems.  

 

 

NOTATION

 

The notation of Zaum into text form was quite an important process because written systems generally used in the Western theatrical and musical worlds were fragmented and restructured into a usable form for a composition that does not conform to the traditional conception in either field.  The notation itself is quite simple to interpret once a number of notation ‘conventions’ have been learnt. The conventions relating to the notation of movement are worthy of mention.  Based on a semiotic model for language, three contrasting systems are adopted in order to present a more cogent and understandable performance text.  The trichotomy of sign-functions suggested by Charles Pierce (the American logician and founding father of modern semiotic theory) are represented.[14]  The first method is iconic or diagrammatic.  According to Peirce, an icon is “a sign which refers to the object that it denotes merely by virtue of characters of its own, and which it possesses.”[15]   The icon is represented in the score by diagrams that demonstrate the position of performers and objects by situating performers in relation to these objects or each other on an imagined performance space.   Below are examples taken from each of the three movements:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The second method is indexical.  Indexical signs are casually connected with their objects, in other words an index is a sign which refers to the object that it denotes by virtue of being affected by that object.[16]   In the case of its use in the notation, the performers must learn a system of sounds that must appear to have a direct connection with the movements, suggesting some kind of natural coherence between the sounds and the movements or gestures emerging from them.  For example, the Russian sound ‘vzzz’ is used as a verb prefix to signify an upward direction, thus the sound itself carries this connotation and in the composition this sound signifies a raising of the hand.  The illustration overleaf demonstrates a number of these sounds as notated in the score and a description of the movements that must be learnt.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The last is symbolic. A symbol is a sign which refers to the object that it denotes by virtue of another symbolic sign system that has little or no relationship with the object that is being represented. Here the relationship between sign-vehicle and signified is conventional and unmotivated.[17]  In the score artificial symbolic sign systems are used where numbers surrounded by shapes come to represent individual gestures.[18]  The illustrations below demonstrate examples of these symbolic systems. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

These three notation forms are very important both in demonstrating a relationship between language and movement and in extending the possibilities of a notation system into alternative areas of language communication; in this case non-verbal.

 


SCENARIO

 

The work has been composed in a three movement form and it is possible for each of the movements to be performed separately.  However, in order to demonstrate the complete ‘sound-language’ narrative that binds the composition into a whole it is necessary to play the three movements successively.  The complete narrative concerns the creation and questioning of a meaning-based language:  language is born from a state of pure meaning, becomes in the process of its artificialization estranged, resulting in the proposal of a new language system based on musical structures. Zaum-1,the first movement, begins in a state without language, only sounds.  Through a developmental process a connection is made between certain movements and vocalisations that grow from within the chaotic sound pool. From these initial movements and sounds, the performers present a number of different language systems: ritual-based movement languages, story-telling languages, gesture languages and so forth.  By the end of the first movement, words and sounds, initially steeped in primordial and ritual significance, are stripped of meaning and are presented as obsessive gestures.  The development is from a state of no language, through various levels of signification, to a state of language without apparent meaning.  In Zaum-2, the second movement sitting comfortably in the middle of the composition, an ambiguity between language and music is demonstrated by the continual adoption of potentially ‘meaningful’ elements (movements and sounds) in ‘meaningless’ musical structures.  The movement ends with a parody of Western theatrical conventions,  highlighting the restrictions of this coding system. Zaum-3, the final movement, attempts to move beyond the binds of traditional theatre language. After an exploration of the physicality of music making, presenting thus an essential coherence between sound and movement, a rhythmic ‘dance’ language is created that in the process of the development becomes gradually redundant, leaving finally the music and the movement to communicate alone.  This divides the composition into three major divisions concerning the work of a specific cubo-futurist poet, and each of these movements is described in detail further on in this document.

 

 

                   ZAUM-1

                        Section 1:  Oproeping         

                        Section 2:  Bezwering                        ZAUM-3

                        Section 3:  Afbreking            Section 1:  Ensemble

                                                                             Section 2:  Chorus

                   ZAUM-2                                  Section 3:  Finale                                           

                        Section 1:  Beginning Time

                        Section 2:  Vertolk Middel

                        Section 3:  End Play

 

 


 

Khlebnikov 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Xlebnikov

 

The first movement presents an exploration of Khlebnikov’s attitude to zaum  poetry.  Khlebnikov had an extended attitude to language as a communicative form, believing strongly in the almost ‘magical’ power of vocal sounds both to signify and even affect the world in a way beyond signification.  This certainly connects with an ancient attitude to language where the vocal sounds were believed to have deep mythical significance.  According to Julia Kristeva the work of Khlebnikov “threaded through metaphor and metonymy a network of phonemes or phonic groups charged with instinctual drives and meaning, constituting what for the author was a numerical code, a ciphering, underlying the verbal sign.”[19]    Characteristic of Khlebnikov’s work is an attempt to construct a language of hieroglyphs from abstract concepts, sometimes called the ‘stellar’ or ‘universal’ language.  Here the Khlebnikovian zaum attains its highest point of rarefaction, and only conventionally can one speak of its possible decipherment.[20]   Antonin Artaud’s [21] concept of stage language is certainly significant here, an attitude where signification freely germinates from a variety of different sources:

 

“Gestures will be equivalent to signs, signs to words.  The spoken word, when psychological circumstances permit, will be performed in an incantory way.[...]  Movements, poses, bodies of characters will form or dissolve like hieroglyphs.  This language will spread from one organ to another, establishing analogies, unforeseen associations between series of objects, series of sounds, series of intonations.”

 


 

Zaum-1 is divided into three section: (i) Oproeping, (ii) Bezwering, (iii) Afbreking. 

A flowing structure is adopted between these sections in which the expression of different language systems is created through relating certain sounds to certain physical movements.  Through this connection between sound and movement a notion of ‘meaning’ is presented that goes beyond simply a literal translation of vocal sounds into cogent concepts.

 

Section 1: Oproeping

This section begins in silence and darkness, a state before sound or language.  A long, deep, earthy sound emerges gradually from the silence and five hats are revealed centre stage forming the shape of a pentagon.  Through the calling of ‘name fragments’ (prerecorded) the performers are one by one revealed surrounding the ring of hats, and the entrance of each performer introduces a new sound element, creating a chaotic sound pool.  From the sounds on tape emerge word fragments or ur-sounds which bring about the performance of a series of stylized movements.  These movements form the raw material for later development within the composition. 

 

Section 2: Bezwering

One by one the performers form a line towards the back of the stage and are facing in the direction of the audience. Here they begin to slowly chant a text taken from Zangezi (one of Khlebnikov’s most famous zaum works), and from the sound of the chanting develops a slow and cyclical movement series formed by linking together some of the movements from the first section.  In this excerpt from Zangezi a ritual-like state is evoked by the use of the “oom” sound group, translatable as ‘mind’ or ‘sense’ from Russian.  Khlebnikov formed his own vocabulary by combining this sound with various other syllable groups, assigning his own ‘state of meaning’ where the new words have a natural connection with universal concepts.  This is represented on stage by the inevitability of the movement series that evolved out of the ur-sounds beginning the composition, and the cyclical recurrence of the music as the text is chanted.

 

Goum.                                                                      Goum.

Oum.                                                                        Oum.

Uum.                                                                        Uum.

Paum.                                                                      Paum.

Soum of me                                                            Soum menh

And of those I don’t know                                      I tex, kogo ne zna]

Moum.                                                                      Moum.

Boum.                                                                      Boum.

Laum.                                                                      Laum.

Cheum.[22]                                                                  Ceum.[23]

 


 

The musical material used here is a gradually developing chord series that returns further developed in Zaum-3.  In both cases the way the material is treated is based on an Indonesian attitude to the structuring of music where development is presented not by constant change through the introduction of new material but by an inevitable repetition and subtle variation of the same material.

 

The internal rhythm uniting the performers gradually falls away as the actions of the players seem to become independent of the music and the chanted word series - escaping the cyclical recurrence. The following development in the composition uses another famous poem from Khlebnikov, whose title can be translated as “Incantation by Laughter.”  This poem is structured around the Russian word for ‘laugh’ (smyech) by using many possible variations that, through the affixing of new prefixes and the use of unusual conjugations, have essentially no meaning in official Russian.  A sense of meaning is provided, however, through the use of already existing word fragments.  Particularly interesting is the rhythmic, incantation-like adoption of sounds within this ‘vocal composition’. The words of this poem are performed as if a mysterious and magical story is being told in an ancient and lost language.  These words are accompanied by ‘magical’ gestures that seem to provide significance in relation to the untranslatable story.  It appears as if all the meaning-bearing elements of this section (the text, the gestures and the music), combine to form a significant, meaningful whole, although the ‘meaning’ itself is only significant in the context of the musical development: in Zaum-1 through the gradual formation and deconstruction of a language system, and in the complete Zaum composition through the return of movement and sound-based elements.

 

O, rassmŽjtes>, smexac’!

O, zasmŽjtes>, smexac’!

Cto sme«]tsh smex‡mi, cto sme«hnstvu]t sme«hl>no,

O, zasmŽjtes> usme«hl>no!

O, rassmŽwi` nadsme«hl>nyx Ñ smex usmŽjnyx smexacŽj!

O, issmŽjsh rassme«hl>no, smex nadsmŽjnyx smehcŽj!

SmŽjvo, SmŽjvo,

UsmŽj, osmŽj, smŽwiki, smŽwiki,

Sme«]nciki, sme«]nciki.

O, rassmŽjtes>, smexac’!

O, zasmŽjtes>, smexac’!

 

Oh, rasmeytyes’ smyexachi! 

Oh, zasmeytyes’ smyexachi!

Shto cmyeyoutsa cmyexami, shto smyeyanstvooyoot smyeyalno,

Oh, zasmeytyes’ ysmyeyalno!

Oh rasmyeshish nadsmyeyalnix Ñ smyex ysmyaynix smyexachay!

Oh ismyaysa rassmyeyalno, smyex nadsmeynix smyeyachay! 

Smyayeva, smyayeva,  

Oosmyay, osmyay, smyeshiki, smyeshiki,  

Smyeyounchiki, smyeyounchiki. 

Oh, rasmeytyes’ smyexachi!

Oh, zasmeytyes’ smyexachi![24]
Section 3: Afbreking

The last section begins when two of the performers move into the centre of the performance space, one of whom takes a chair.  This section involves the performance of five brief dramatic scenes that are each time followed by a short explanation in a sort of gesture language based on the sign language for the deaf. The sentences are spoken by prerecorded voices on tape, and are at the same time acted out by one of the two performers highlighted centre stage. It seems initially that the sign language sentences are descriptive of the actions, but the sentences and the actions become each time a little more absurd, and a little less to do with one another.  This reflects the development within the first movement - the creation of a language and its gradual alienation from meaning.  The signs adopted in this pseudo gesture language were found in a Flemish ‘sign language dictionary’, a book evidently so old that most of the ‘signs’ or gestures are no longer recognized in contemporary sign language forms.[25]   These gesture words are spoken by performers on the tape and are simultaneously performed as movements on stage.  The sentences spoken on the tape were actually deliberately ‘composed’ with the movements in mind, and are designed to sound like old Flemish ‘sayings’ which are usually moralistic metaphors with an imprinted meaning.  This collection of sayings are deliberately meaningless, and are designed to set up points of ambiguity between the gesticulations on stage, which are in turn set against the absurd motions of the performer with the chair.  The transmission of meaning is the important structural element for this division, although the notion of ‘meaning’-based exchanges is brought into question because the absurdity of the language is finally recognizable, although still ambiguous.  Below is a description of the movements and the texts involved.

 

Action 1: Sits behind the chair which is facing the audience and places hand through the bars as if sitting in a prison pleading for something from a passer-by.

Sign language text: De beschaamde man wil met de engel dansen.

                                           (“the ashamed man wants to dance with the angel”)

 

Action 2:  Puts chair on its back with the legs facing the audience.  Sits on knees on the back of the chair and appears to pull a container from between the chair legs.  Offers this imaginary object towards the heavens.

Sign language text: Voor de arme vrouw is de honing de pijnbelasting.

                                           (“for the poor woman the honey is the pain tax”)

 

Action 3:  Rests jacket on the back of the chair then crawls underneath so that the face of  the performer can be seen by the public.  Performs gesture with arms while smiling.

Sign language Text:  De glimlach van de tovenaar is een leeg gebaar.

                                              (“the smile of the magician is an empty gesture”)

 

Action 4:  Puts the chair onto its back with the legs facing the audience.  Lies next to the chair  on the left side, with legs facing in the same direction as those of the chair and knees raised as if in a seated position.

Sign language text:  Gebruik de zwarte borstel als je de duivel wil dopen.

                                             (“use the black brush if you want to bless the devil”)

 

Action 5:  Walks in a circle around the chair becoming gradually lower as if climbing down a spiral staircase.  Then when a position behind the chair is reached, sits and lifts the chair above head.

Sign language text: In de aardbeituin mocht niemand van chocolade dromen.

                                           (“in the strawberry garden no one was allowed to dream of chocolate”)

 

 

 

These sentences are repeated by the prerecorded voices, but begin to be gradually fragmented. Each repetition introduces another level of deconstruction, until all that is left is the constitutient particles of speech, totally without the structuring context of the language from which they were taken.  While this has happened the performers that introduced the sentences have moved away and the lighting is dimmed.  Two new performers under the dim lighting move across the performance space, each holding a chair.   With the sudden entrance of lighting from stage left and right, they begin to perform absurd obsessive gestures that are comparable to the deconstructed vocal sounds only through their short and fragmented nature.  The composition has moved into a phase of liminoid action, somewhere between sound and meaning, but where the generally accepted conception of language has been estranged.  The stage has been set for the second movement which grows from this ambiguity between language, sound and music.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“De beschaamde man wil met de engel dansen”

ZAUM-1: Afbreking

 

 

 

 

Kruchenykh

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Kruc‘nyx

 

 

Kruchenykh played a particularly significant role with regard to the theory and use of zaum language. He thought that the conservative literary traditions placed serious limitations on poetic imagination, invention, verbal play and spontaneous intuition.  Kruchenykh suggested that the ‘emptier’ the poetic imagination, the more creative and fruitful the poetic result: the penetration of the mysteries beyond the rational world.[26]   These anarchic attitudes to language form the basis for the second movement, the emphasis being on the rejection of a Western model for theatre where signification predominantly and primarily occurs through the interpretation of a word-based vocabulary (the dramatic text): in Zaum-2 traditional meanings are stripped from already existing gestural and vocal models and new and ridiculous ‘meaning systems’ are presented in their place. Vocal material taken from a fragmentation of one of Kruchenykh’s zaum poems sets the boundaries for the language invented for the prerecorded voices.  The names of the five characters on stage are actually formed from this sound pool, and these characters are constantly referred to by five voices on tape who are using a nonsense language based similarly on the Kruchenykh fragments.  The names become primary signifiers for the five performers involved: at various times in the composition, the characters are called upon by these names resulting in some important developmental change within the composition.  Overleaf is the poem itself in the form that it appeared  when it was published, followed by a translation into Russian letters, a phonetic transcription, and then the ‘names’ of the performers which were taken from the fragmentations.

 


 

 

ser[amelepeta

senhl  ok

rizum

meleva

alik a levamax

li li l]b b]l

 

 

cerzhamelepyeta

cenyal ock

rizoom

melyeva

alik a levamax

li li lyoub byoul[27]

 

 

Performer 1:  Ser[, Ser[ok   Serjh, Serzhok

Performer 2:  Peta, Petax           Pjeta, Pjetax

Performer 3:  Mel, Melok             Mjel, Mjelok

Performer 4:  Alik, Alikom           Alik, Alikom

Performer 5:  Zum, Zumok          Zoom, Zoomok[28]

 

 

Development in this part of the composition is presented by a constant transformation between ‘theatrical’ and ‘musical’ states that is brought about by contrasting performance situations that allude to theatrical ‘meaning’ with totally ‘meaningless’ gestures/sounds:  the composition begins with performers adopting potentially ‘meaningful’ gestures which form into an amusing musical pattern (almost without sound), just as the composition ends after a musical vocal composition develops into a performance that alludes to Russian ‘slapstick’ theatre.  The purpose is to explore points of ambiguity between ‘musical’ and ‘theatrical’ communication.  The central section of Zaum-2 uses this ambiguity to create an absurd ‘performance’ language. A simple series of movements taken from Zaum-1 are brought to life by prerecorded vocal sounds. After a number of repetitions the movements become associated with these vocal sounds, and therefore a new ‘performance’ language is created before the eyes of the audience.

 

Zaum-2 is divided into three sections;  (i) Beginning Time,

                                                                        (ii) Vertolk Middel,

                                                                        (iii) End Play.

 

 

 

Section 1: Beginning Time

Lighting emerges on the five performers, who stand side-by-side centre stage close by the audience, staring blankly as if entirely disinterested in the performance event.  It begins first with the performers using certain gestures seemingly at random:   coughing, checking watch, clearing throat, sighing etc.  At first the pauses between the gestures are excruciatingly long, and it appears as if the performers are waiting for something to happen.  The audience is directly confronted with ‘out of frame’ activity, material that is both non-musical and non-theatrical, but which is obviously impossible to disattend because the performers have already been recognised as such and are standing in the centre of the stage.[29]  These gestures are soon rendered absurd when they are repeated and patterns begin to form, revealing that there is actually more at work than simply the presentation of impatient performers.  This soon forms into a musical structure when the gestures form part of a simple repeated rhythmic series, changing completely the interpretative possibilities.

 

 

 

Section 2: Vertolk Middel

The tape part emerges around the live performance ensemble with whispered conversational vocal sounds that appear to come from nowhere. A sudden loud sibilant sound (Shh!) stills the ensemble who were previously performing the absurd rhythmic gestures.  The five voices on tape are speaking a language that seems to resemble Russian.  The first reaction from the performance ensemble is to be seemingly shocked, causing them to look in all directions to see exactly from where the sounds emerge.  A number of whispered sounds on the tape lead to a shouted command which brings the ensemble to attention.  Then vocal commands are shouted causing individual performers to move to different positions on the stage, until all members of the ensemble are positioned in specified places around the performance space.  Simple syllabic vocal  sounds[30]  become represented on the stage by simple movements from the performers (the raising of an arm, turning of the head etc.); the voices appear to be commanding the performers to move.  The same vocal sound comes to represent the same movement for a certain performer, and a number of the vocal sounds are shared by all the performers.  In other words, a ‘semiotic code’ is created on the stage, where the audience is deliberately directed into recognising  an entirely  new, be it limited, ‘stage language.’  Ambiguity is presented by the contrast between the symbolic nature of the language when it appears that the sounds act as movement commands, and the indexical nature of the sounds on tape which set up an intrinsic relationship between certain sounds and certain movements.  The sound in itself becomes the movement, and a sound-based movement composition is performed. This absurd presentation of  a language system is theoretically provocative, parodying theatre forms which use always the same form of preset language conventions to communicate in the theatre.

 


 

 

The vocal/movement sounds on tape become more frequent until finally all the performers are moving in reaction to the cassette.  A point of development is reached where ‘movement words’ are formed by the syllabic Russian fragments, and each performer has a specific ‘word’ which he must perform.    After a climactic point where all the voices are reading these performance words simultaneously, the voices one by one stop and the ensemble on stage is still.  Then the names of the performers are called and one by one they move into specified positions surrounding the performance space. 

 

 

 

Section 3: End Play

The lighting fades out and the sound of voices in whispered conversation can be heard from the tape.  This develops into a musical structure based on the transferal of whispered words that allude to some sort of conspiratorial conversation into sibilant sounds stooped of theatrical ‘meaning’.  After further development ending with the chanting of Russian syllables, the climax is reached: a loud declamation from voice three results in the lights being brought up suddenly. Two performers are spotlighted centre stage presenting a theatrical fragment almost in slow motion in which one of the two appears to punch the other in the face.   The three remaining performers surrounding the spotlight are revealed applauding wildly.  A number of short scenes are presented by the same two performers, separated by changing the colour of the lighting to differentiate the divisions. The others introduce these scenes by reading sections from the complete zaum poem by Kruchenykh that was fragmented to form the nonsense language used previously.  Performer three, evidently dissatisfied with this short performance, stands suddenly and shouts a text fragment in Russian taken from a different Kruchenykh text: “Lets quickly put an end to this worthless comic act.”[31]   The entrance of this text brings about recorded animal sounds which quickly throw the performance into chaos.  The Kruchenykh text spreads from one performer to the other (in a number of different languages) as the farmyard animals become louder and louder, resulting finally in the recorded voices screaming the work ‘nyet’.  The five performers are suddenly silent and shrug their shoulders slowly and simultaneously in the direction of an unseen observer beyond the stage.  The performance space is then quickly brought into darkness.


 

   Kamensky

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   Kamenskij

 

Vasily Kamensky (1884-1961) played an important role as a Russian futurist, being responsible for the development and elaboration of certain avant-garde poetic techniques.   Following the premises of Russian cubo-futurism, he attempted to break down language and reconstruct it in a totally new form.  He became interested in phonic instrumentation, and in particular with the possibilities offered by onomatopoeic procedures:  here a melodic line came increasingly to prevail. The structure of the third movement, in adopting some of the attitudes to language characteristic of Kamensky, uses the structures and rhythms behind text to structure the musical development within the composition, reminiscent of Indian dance ‘spoken’ through the rhythmic nature of the words: musical structures continually result in the formation of the text just as the reciting of the text results in the creation of musical structures and movement patterns.  

 

There is also an emphasis in this section on exploring more completely the role that ‘movement’ plays in the creation of music; the natural physicality of music expressed through playing an instrument or conducting.  This can be related to a relatively new form of Balinese dance called Kebyar Duduk that uses the ‘physicality’ of instrument-playing to structure the dance.   The dance itself evolved from the physical process required to play the trompong, where the length of the instrument itself necessitated the player to move from one end to the other, and as such was usually played by two performers.  The originator of Kebyar Duduk wanted to play this instrument alone and thus invented a large number of stylized movements that would allow him to reach from one end to the other.  This performance became independent of the instrument and recognised as a dance in its own right, although the dancer in Kebyar Duduk can still be seen as “an instrument, not as a person.”[32]   The physicality of instrument playing is also suggested by musical teaching methods adopted in Africa.  Here, patterns of movements are imparted ‘physically’ by the teacher to the pupil, for instance by a teacher holding his pupil’s hand and imparting direct impulses to them until the pupil has absorbed the movement pattern and his hands holding the sticks are moved at the correct instant.[33]   The intention in Zaum-3 is therefore to extend musical discourse into a physical dimension, where movement patterns are related directly to musical lines.  The performers on stage are used to express this relationship between sound and movement, resulting in the creation of a ‘dance/movement language’.  

 

Zaum-3 is divided into three sections;  (i) Ensemble,

                                                                        (ii) Chorus,

                                                                        (iii) Finale.  

 

Section 1: Ensemble

This section begins with a ‘phantom’ ensemble that forms on stage where the existence of large and grotesque musical  instruments is suggested by the exaggerated movements of the performers.  The sounds themselves are heard from a recording, and are actually vocal sounds of the same five performers.  Movements and sounds emerging from these invisible ‘instruments’ are echoed at all times by a performer standing before the ensemble and taking the role of a conductor: he/she gives stylized gestures that seem to have some controlling connection with the sounds and movements. 

 

Section 2: Chorus

The ‘musicians’ vacate the central space leaving the conductor alone who is facing away from the audience.  This performer moves under a spotlight which comes up in the centre of the stage, turns around, bows to the audience, and then begins to ‘perform’ movement-texts which are spoken by the chorus now surrounding the performance area.   The function of this section is to introduce and develop the basic elements of the ‘dance-language’ that will structure the finale.  The texts used are based on a completely ‘meaningless’ (translatable only as sounds) but rhythmically and texturally exciting sound poem by Kamensky.  Here the zaum words are brought to life by performing the rhythmic passages as flowing movement patterns and the sounds of single syllables as sharp gestures.   Much of this movement material has already appeared in Zaum-1 and Zaum-2, although it is presented here in a further developed form.  A recitation of the poem is followed by a number of developments of the same text suggesting alternative ways of presenting dance languages, leading finally to the performance of two ‘dance sentences’ growing directly from Kamensky’s poem.  These dance sentences are used as the basis for the concluding section.  Comparable to forms of Indian temple dance, this small vocabulary of rhythmic vocal sounds structures time in such a way that the movement and  musical compositions can simultaneously develop, inseparably intertwined.   Overleaf is the original poem by Kamensky followed by the dance sentences.

 

 

 

 

 

          

                       Sound Poem from Vasily Kamensky:

 

Zgara-amba              Zgara-amba

Zgara-amba              Zgara-amba

Zgara-amba             Zgara-amba

Amb.                                      Amb.

 

 

           Amb-zgara-amba                              Amb-zgara-amba

        Amb-zgara-amba                                 Amb-zgara-amba

        Amb-zgara-amba                                 Amb-zgara-amba

        Amb.                                                      Amb.

 

qar-qor-qur-qir                      tsar-tsor-tsur-tsir

Cin-drax-tam-dzzz.               Chin-drax-tam-dzzz. [34]

 

 

 

 

 

                       Rhythmic/Dance Language:

 

mu-ska-ra-am-ba  qar!      moo-ska-ra-am-ba  tsar!

zga-ra-am-ba                                 zga-ra-am-ba

dza-ma  qor!  wa-ma-ka   dza-ma  tsor!  sha-ma-ka

qi-ma-ka-wa-ma                tsi-ma-ka-sha-ma

lu-ci-da-ci  qir!                    loo-chi-da-chi  tsir!

da-moc-ka-za-ku                da-moch-ka-za-koo

 

m‘-ka  cin!  za-ma-ku        myo-ka  chin!  za-ma-ky

xa-ma-[o-ku                                    xa-ma-zho-koo

xa-ma-za-ma-ka  drax!     xa-ma-za-ma-ka  drax!

qu-ra-fu-ma-ci                     tsoo-ra-foo-ma-chi

fu-ma-ra-ci  tam!                foo-ma-ra-chi  tam!

wu-ska-ma-ra-ca                shoo-ska-ma-ra-cha

 

 


 

Section 3: Finale

When a prerecorded voice on tape begins to recite the text, the composition has entered its concluding stage.   The musical structure of the conclusion can be divided into five shorter sections.  The first three of these divisions involve a doubling of the tempo at which the text is recited:  the first division is very slow, the second twice as fast and the third twice as fast again, and these speed changes are reflected both by the movement of the performers and the melodic and rhythmic development within the musical composition. 

 

1: The first division involves a single recorded voice and a single performer.  Here the dance sentences as previously introduced can be found hidden among rhythmic syllables.   This technique of extending a dance text by the insertion of syllables is also used in Indian dance exercises. These rhythmic syllables have no meaning-based connection with the dance text, but the dance text is actually being read very slowly and if the syllables were not included it would be difficult to hold the rhythm: here the performer must express very slowly the dance text in movement as first introduced during the chorus.  Musical sounds in the form of percussion instruments gradually impose. 

 

2:  After one complete repetition of the dance sentences, the second division begins and the speed of the text doubles resulting in two more performers joining the soloist.  The music continues to grow in complexity beneath the words.  The text/movement composition is performed simultaneously twice by the three performers standing centre stage.

 

3: The speed doubles again, leading to the third division and also signifying the entrance of the last two performers.  At this point however, one of the recorded voices reads the text at the faster tempo, and the other two voices stay at the same tempo, meaning that while the complete text is read four times by one of the voices (and performed quickly by the solo performer), the text is read only two times at the slower speed and thus performed at the slower tempo.  The new performers that have joined the dance composition are reacting to the sound of two new voices that have started reciting text on the tape: they are adopting a slow and regular rhythmic repetition of the syllabic gestures first introduced in the chorus, contrasting with the flowing movements texts now being spoken/danced.   The ‘music-language’ is now at its most complex, involving simultaneously three different dance speeds and musical levels.  In the fourth repetition of the solo dance-text, the music and thus the movement of all the performers begins to accelerate. 

 

4:  The fourth division of the finale begins after a point of climax is reached and all the players suddenly change from the complex polyphonic movement patterns to a simplified  more rhythmical movement series.  These movements are based on the rhythms of a simplified text taken from the dance sentences, and the music (structured around the words) is based on the repeating patterns of the Indonesian gamelan.  This pattern repeats a number of times, and then the rhythm begins to slow. 

 

 

 

 

5:  Division five begins when a new slower tempo is reached.  Suddenly more complex musical, vocal and physical elements are brought in within the existing structure.  Like in Indonesian gamelan, the musical structure remains the same, but when the slower tempo is reached more complex rhythmic patterns can occur.  Just as the melody behind the spoken text keeps playing at the slower tempo, the solo performer stays performing the slow rhythmic movements while two of the other performers are performing a more complex rhythmic pattern.  The purpose here is to demonstrate something which is unique in Indonesian musical performance:  when a slower tempo is reached and the resulting sound from the performance becomes complex because of the entrance of new rhythmic passages, simple melodic instruments stay holding the same melodic pattern that is actually no longer recognizable as a melody because the speed is so slow.  The motions of the performers who are playing these instruments have also slowed, and it appears almost as if the musicians playing the slower tempo are performing in slow motion despite the complex rhythms that have developed around them.[35]   All the performers play together in an entirety that allows for simultaneous performance of different rhythmic levels, which despite their differences are bonded together by the larger repeating musical structures.   This binds the performance together in a way that is not readily perceived in Western culture, reflecting in a unique way an ‘unspoken’ cultural unity, one that is expressed through the music.

 

 

As mentioned an important element of  Zaum-3 is the intimate and inseparable relationship that exists between the words and the music, comparable particularly to forms of Indian dance where the rhythms of the words dictate structures both to the musicians and the dancers. In Zaum-3 a ‘dance/movement language’ develops from which musical textures are allowed to grow that relate directly to the structures of the spoken texts.  Through the development of  these musical textures beneath the vocal sounds the words themselves become gradually redundant, leaving only the music and dance.  A state is now presented where the composition has moved beyond the necessity for the binding structures of ‘language’ to communicate, resulting finally in the silence which begun the composition.

 



 

 

EPILOGUE

 

 

As can be demonstrated in the work of the Russian futurists, the extreme avant-garde tends to link up with the archaic; as a reaction against the conventions of contemporary society artists have looked back to ancient forms of ritual and performance that surpass conventional forms of communication.  Kruchenykh himself wrote poetry consisting entirely of vowels, which can compare to the Egyptian priests who chose a name composed of vowels for the gods in the most solemn of religious ceremonies.[36] The classical tradition obliterated from language the unexplainable, mystical properties of sound as recognizable in much Eastern religion, and it can be said that it has fallen to the avant-garde to rediscover and appropriate it:  “We have charged the word with forces and energies which made it possible for us to rediscover the evangelical concept of the ‘word’ as a magical complex of images”[37]  wrote the dadaist Hugo Ball; “we must withdraw into the deepest alchemy of words, reserving to poetry its most sacred ground.”  This programme would have appealed to Velimir Khlebnikov who wanted to create a mythical ‘pan-slavonic’ language “whose shoots must grow through the thicknesses of modern Russian.”[38]  Perhaps the greatest tribute left by the Russian futurists was zaum.  Zaum looked like the outer limit of poetry, where sounds can create meaning but are not subordinated to it.  The two major proponents of zaum, Khlebnikov and Kruchenykh, certainly shared a vision for new ways of dealing with language, even if their methods were decidedly different.  In both cases, the ‘absurdity’ of zaum had a purpose and was never completely anarchic:  for Khlebnikov that purpose was connected with new ways of harnessing language as a means of communication, whereas Kruchenykh totally abandoned rational interpretation wanting to connect on a level that went beyond rational processes and deep into the psyche.  Even Kamensky was to develop the concept of zaum through his interest in the musical nature of nonsense verse.  For the Russian futurists this was “an appeal to a higher sense, one that is implicit only in the form of the work itself.  The spatial temporal universe, one that is stable and pervasive.”[39] This interpretation of Russian futurism as a transcendent movement is comparable to Zen Buddhism, which treats alogical language as the key to enlightenment and a complete understanding of the world.  This also connects to the ‘ritual’ languages used in some Eastern performances, where untranslatable vocal and gestural sign systems are adopted to communicate concepts essentially alien to language.  The intention in the Zaum composition is to explore this connection between the ancient and the contemporary by adopting certain attitudes to performance and linguistic theory in the ‘musical’ structure: a context for the interpretation of seemingly absurd actions and sounds is created during the performance itself, and traditional theatre which is structured around the interpretation of word based texts is brought into question.  By questioning the sometimes exceedingly rational nature of Western theatre through the influence of both the Russian futurists and various forms of Eastern performance, a contrasting vision for signification is presented for use in the theatre.

 

“It is not new objects which should be used in art, but a new and fantastic light  should be thrown upon the old ones.”

Ñ Alexei Kruchenykh

 

Zaum-2

 

Introduction

 

Zaum-2 is a music-theatre composition for five performers and tape, and is envisaged as the central movement in a three movement work.  The name for this composition is derived from radical theoretical concepts presenting an entirely new attitude to language and communication - ‘Zaum language’ - introduced during the Russian futurist era, a particularly unique period of history close by the turn of the century.  This is basically a form of poetic communication that redefined language itself, but not in terms of ‘meaning’ in the translatable sense:  According to the Russian futurists, poetry using language restricted by strict referential meaning and grammatical structures was no longer a valid form of artistic communication. Poetry was extended to include non-referential sounds that could nevertheless be enjoyed ‘by themselves,’ an attitude that had previously been confined to music. This composition takes the futurist theory and extends it through various contrasting theoretical concepts.  The intention is to create a theatrical composition based on this new attitude to language, but to escape from the bonds of Western conventions by adopting alternative communicative forms.  The Russian futurists in their adoption of zaum language certainly caught more than a glimpse of what was to become the obsession of Antonin Artaud:  The creation of a new language unique to the theatre, where the word is broken from its strict meaning and discovered in a completely new form.  From his famous volume of theoretical essays The Theatre and its Double a clear image of this language can be found.

 

“In the theatre, a line is a sound, a movement is music and the gesture which emerges from a sound is like a key word in a sentence.”

 

This is an attempt to explore the possibilities of discovering text through music and of music communicating through text presenting various levels of ambiguity that can provide many possible ways for ‘meaning’ to be rendered in the theatre

 

Background

 

Russian futurism had a totally contrasting set of influences to other movements in art primarily because of the isolated position of Russia.  These influences reflect a dichotomy:  A vision for the future, and an interest in ancient history.  This expressed itself through their highly innovative ways of rethinking language.  The Russian futurists possibly went further than any movement in art in exploring the possibilities of extension of the word into other media, although their work to this day is largely unrecognised and ignored.  The dominant figure remains the Italian futurists whose obsession with war, speed and the city makes them easier to classify under their chosen title.  There is no doubt that the Italian futurists reflected their dislike for the rigid conventions of its society in the break-up of grammar, words, and the pictorial image, which irrecoverably changed the face of aesthetic values, and this deconstruction is one of the factors common with Russian futurism. However, the Russian futurist vision took these notions further, using the deconstruction of different mediums to create something new, vital and exciting for the changing world.  The Russians certainly recognised this contrast, in fact they rejected the Italians and felt that they had surpassed them even before they became labelled with the name ‘futurists’.  These artists also adopted Eastern philosophies and called for a total rejection of Western Europe.  Benedict Livshits, an important Russian futurist poet and theoretician, described the West and the East as completely different systems of aesthetic vision and said that they should “recognise themselves as Asians and rid themselves of their European yoke.” 

 

A group of artists recognised for the extremity of their experimental work, became known as the ‘cubo-futurists’.  The name of this composition is taken from one the primary theoretical innovations introduced by members of this group: Zaumni Yazyk (abbreviated zaum), meaning ‘trans-sense language.’  These linguistic innovations certainly extended beyond merely the meaningless stringing together of Russian sounds and into areas of communication that had rarely  been seriously considered.  This included the theatre:  Alexei Kruchenykh (1886-1969), one of the primary theoreticians of zaum language, said that he saw zaum as the only possibility for use in the new theatre and cinema.   According to Jindrich Honzl, a member of the Prague structuralist school “with the advent of the cubo-futurist theatre new materials appeared on the stage, and formerly undreamed of things acquired various representative functions.” (“Dynamics of the Sign in the Theatre”, Semiotics of Art  MIT Press 1976)

 

Alexei Kruchenykh was to become the primary supporter and theoretician of zaum, which he saw as a leading mode of expression because he believed that trans-sense language was demanded by the confused character of contemporary life and served as an antidote to the paralysis of common language.  This was a reaction against the obsession with meaning, reason, psychology and philosophy presented by the conservative literary traditions.  The absurdity of Kruchenykh’s most experimental works was a very specific behaviour; it was different from the seemingly absurd with a hidden message, different even from the surreal type of subconscious associations.  This absurdity was a pointless, mindless, stubbornly senseless, irresolvable condition meant only to reveal new and previously invisible realms of the psyche.  The work of Alexei Kruchenykh was particularly influential to this composition.  Most of the vocal sound material adopted is taken from deconstructed Kruchenykh poems, poems that in any case has no ‘meaning’ in the traditional Western sense.  In this composition the sounds are reconstructed in an apparently impossible theatrical reality in order to create a new concept of language. 

 

Scenario

 

Kruchenykh thought that the conservative literary traditions placed serious limitations on poetic imagination, and suggested that the ‘emptier’ the poetic imagination, the more creative and fruitful the poetic result.  These attitudes are presented by a constant transformation between ‘theatrical’ and ‘musical’ form, but where essentially non-musical and non-theatrical means are used creating deliberate ambiguity.  Performance events that allude to theatrical ‘meaning’ (but are actually have no significative function) are combined with totally ‘meaningless’ gestures/sounds that are revealed to have some sort of ‘significance’ but only in the context of the performance.  The purpose is to explore points of ambiguity between ‘musical’ and ‘theatrical’ communication.  

 

The composition begins with performers adopting potentially ‘meaningful’ gestures which forms into an amusing rhythmically structured movement piece, just as the composition ends after a vocal composition develops into a performance that alludes to Russian ‘slapstick’ theatre.   The central section uses a series of gestures that become directly representative of vocal sounds from tape:  A new ‘performance’ language is in fact created before the eyes of the audience.

 

Lighting emerges on the five performers, who stand side-by-side centre stage close by the audience, staring blankly as if entirely disinterested in the performance event.  These five figures are actually’ characters’ who live in an incredibly limited theatrical world, only able to perform certain gestures and react to certain sounds.  Every move and action from these characters within the composition is prefigured and forms the basis of their communicative ‘language’, a vocabulary consisting of only a small number of gestures and sounds.  Each of the characters has a name, and this is one of the primary signifiers for the five involved.  At various times in the composition, the characters are called on by their names resulting in some important developmental change within the composition.  The names actually exist in two forms, a long and a shorter form, typical of the Russian convention, and both are adopted during the composition.

 

The composition begins first with the performers using certain gestures seemingly at random:   Coughing, checking their watch, clearing their throat, sighing etc.  The pauses between the gestures are excruciatingly long, and it appears as if the performers are waiting for something to happen.  This is soon rendered absurd when these  gestures are repeated  and patterns form between the performers; it is revealed that their is actually more at work than a simple random presentation of movement.  This soon forms into simple musical structures, where the gestures form part of simple repeated rhythms changing completely the interpretative possibilities.  The audience is directly confronted with this ‘out of frame’ activity, material that is both non-musical and non-theatrical, but which is obviously impossible to disattend because the performers have already been recognised as such and are standing in the centre of the stage.

 

The tape part emerges from beneath the sound of the live performance ensemble with whispered conversational vocal sounds that appear to come from nowhere, and a sudden loud sibilant sound (Shh!) stills the ensemble who were previously performing the absurd rhythmic gestures.  Five voices can be heard on tape speaking in a language that sounds a little like Russian, and each of these voices commands one of the five performers on stage.  The text that is used on the recording is taken from a Kruchenykh zaum poem that alludes to Russian, but has actually no translation into any language; the poem was fragmented and a conversational vocabulary formed from this source material.   The first reaction from the performance ensemble is to be seemingly shocked, causing them to look in all directions to see exactly from where the sound emerged.  A number of whispered sounds on the tape lead to a shouted command which brings the ensemble to attention.  Then another vocal command is uttered causing performer 2  to move to a certain position and face in a certain direction.  This happens a number of times until all the performers are named and positioned in specified places around the performance space.  Then simple syllabic vocal  sounds which have been freely adopted from another Kruchenykh poem and the Russian language itself become represented on the stage by simple movements from the performers (the raising of an arm, turning of the head etc.); the voices appear to be commanding the performers to move.  The same vocal sound comes to represent the same movement for a certain performer, and a number of the vocal sounds are shared by all the performers.  In other words, a ‘semiotic code’ is created on the stage, where the audience is deliberately directed into recognising  an entirely  new, be it limited, ‘stage language.’  Ambiguity is presented by the contrast between the indexical nature of the voices on tape who appear to be ‘commanding’ the performers to move, and the symbolic nature of the language itself.

 

The vocal/movement sounds on tape become more frequent until finally all the performers are moving in reaction to the cassette.  A point of development is reached where ‘movement words’ are formed by the syllabic Russian fragments, and each performer has a specific ‘word’ which he must perform.    After a climactic point where all the voices are reading these performance words simultaneously, the voices one by one stop and the ensemble on the stage is still.  Then the names of the performers are called and one by one they move into specified positions surrounding the performance space.  The lighting fades out, and the sound of voices in whispered conversation can be heard from the cassette.  This develops gradually into a musical structure based on the transferal of whispered words that alludes to some sort of conspiratorial conversation into whispered sounds without meaning, and then the insertion of syllabic sounds ending with the chanting of Russian syllables.  Finally the vocal composition reaches its climax after a loud declamation from performer 3, resulting in the lights being brought up suddenly, spotlighting two performers centre stage performing an absurd action; presenting an almost slow motion theatrical fragment:  One of the performers appears to punch one of the other performers.   A number of different fragments are presented by the same two performers, separated by changing the colour of the lighting to differentiate the small sections, and the players still surrounding the performance space read sections from a complete zaum poem by Kruchenykh - the same zaum poem that was fragmented to form the theatrical ‘vocabulary’ adopted earlier.   A final text also from Kruchenykh is adopted by the performers on stage in multiple languages when the short pantomime is over, beginning with one player, and then spreading to the others: “Lets quickly put an end to this worthless comic act.” When all the players are saying the phrase (in a number of different languages) as if trying to convince one another of the urgency, a loud reverberant sound from the tape (‘nyet’) results in the performers stopping and then performing a simultaneous gesture (a finger to the lips to indicate quietness), after which the performance space is quickly brought into darkness.  This is the end of the composition.

 

Notation

 

The notation in Zaum-2 has been written in the clearest possible form, and is basically a combination of musical and theatrical ‘events’.  The score divides the composition into specified time divisions where ‘time’ is considered as a forwardly moving continuum represented by moving from the left to the right sight of the page.  The exact position in time that the composition has reached is represented by the Time Track  positioned above all other parts (see illustration 1).  Straight lines or arrows make divisions in the score and will hereby be known as Time signifying Lines.  The length of each of these time divisions is determined by a marker beneath an arrow by the time signifying line, or otherwise by the logical interpretation of instructions. Within these divisions occur the musical or performance ‘events’.  The beginning of a certain section brings about the performance of one or a number of events.  The events themselves are constructed from simple instructions, illustrations, symbols and musical excerpts.  The understanding of a number of simple notation conventions are necessary however to understand these events.

 

Any action or sound is performed directly after the time specified by the signifying line, and is performed once or as many times as specified in the instruction.  If any sound or action is somewhere within the segment then it must be performed in approximately that position in time. The way in which a text fragment in the score  is read is also dependent on its graphic position on the page and within the time division (see illustration 3).  However, if an event is surrounded in an enclosed shape with an arrow emerging, the event is repeated or continues to occur until the arrow reaches a time signifying line (or possibly another event), in which case the player stops and changes to the new event directly following the line (see illustration 4).  Instructions can sit above the arrow itself which will change the manner in which the contents of the box is repeated, e.g getting louder or faster.  If a performance event is surrounded by a box but has no arrow emerging, this means that the single event is actually stretched out to fill completely the time division (see illustration 5).

 

The presence of a dotted line joining performance events during a time division signifies that a particular event is related to another event in some way.  If the line is straight and one of the events occurs after the first then the event situated further on in the score occurs directly after the first is completed(see illustration 6).  However if the line is on an angle, there is a short pause between the events which is sometimes specified (see illustration 7).  If the time division is not specified in some way on the score, then it is considered as equal to a ‘breath mark’ - a short pause.  If a straight dotted line joins the beginning of two performance events then this means that the two events must begin at the same time (see illustration 8).  Sometimes the dotted line form is used simply to link performance events that are in some way related to one another, such as performers interacting, and is elucidated by instructions.

 

Interpretation of the contents of text-based performance events is particularly important in the composition.  An understanding of the sounds of the Russian Cyrillic alphabet is obviously necessary, because some sounds are used that simply do not exist in the English language.  Instructions not printed in the Cyrillic alphabet are included to guide the performer to a correct reading of the text, and a certain number of symbols are used that are also necessary when interpreting the text.  A horizontal line emerging from a letter-group represents unbroken sound which may be accompanied by further instructions as to what type of sound is to be made - sibilant, emotive, violent etc. (see example 9i).  A longer line can be replaced by simply a dash but is representative of the same thing - a long sound (see example 9ii).  A curving line signifies that the pitch of the sound is increased over the time that the sound is made (see example 9iii).  If a difference in pitch is to be specified, it is related to the central dotted line which is considered a mid-range pitch.  Beneath the line is a low range pitch and above is a high range, so logically a line that moves from beneath the line to a point above it specifies a rising pitch.  Illustration 10 demonstrates the notation of a syllabic insertion.  An exclamation mark following the syllable signifies that the syllabic fragment is extroverted and almost violent (10i).  Without exclamation mark a pitch (high, low or mid-range) is specified and the sound itself is detached (10ii).  These act often as loud and sudden insertions in an already adopted text event and in these cases the performer performs the rest of the text in the box as specified previously (see illustration 11).

 

Notation of movement in performance events is particularly important in the structure of the composition, and a number of different methods are used.  The first is linguistic, or descriptive, where the movement is described within a performance event as an instruction, and is performed within the time specified (see illustration 12).  The second is indexical where some form of non-connected symbol is used as an index to represent movements.  The third is symbolic or diagrammatic where diagrams are used to represent the movement of performers on stage.  the last two methods need to be described in a little more detail.  The indexical form uses two contrasting methods to notate movement.  The first is represented simply by numbers in circles, and the exact movements are listed overleaf.  From bar 27 a number of sounds are made that are heard on a recording in the performance and are literally ‘brought to life’ by the performers on stage as movements and are performed at the same time as the sounds.  These sounds are notated in the score, and the specified movements that they come to be represent by in a performance of the work are also listed overleaf.  In all cases the same movements are used every time they are repeated.  The symbolic or diagrammatic form is represented in the score by diagrams related to positions on the score by large letters.  These letters are positioned above the time track and thus are logically performed when this time on the track is reached during the composition.  The symbols in the diagram are very easily interpreted, each of the circles being representative for one of the five performers.  The arrow merging from the symbol specifies exactly the direction in which the performer should move and the arrow head represents his final stopping place.  The arrow head at one side of the performer-representing circle demonstrates the direction in which the performer is facing.

 

Tape

 

The tape part performs a very important role in the performance of this composition, interacting directly with the performance in a number of different and often ambiguous ways.  It is therefore essential that it be recorded at the highest possible quality to provide a crispness in the reproduction without distortion.  No special tape effects are required until right at the end of the composition and a single word (Russian ‘Nyet!’) is spoken by the third voice.  This is designed to present some kind of omnipotent observer who brings the composition to a close, and can be recorded with an artificial reverb effect.

 

 If it is possible the same five performers should perform in the live performance as in the prerecorded, among other things making it necessary for the performers to listen and react to the sound of their own voice.  The tape part should be recorded in stereo and the voices should be positioned in a stereo soundscape as illustrated below:

 

Important notes

 

No stage properties are required for a performance of Zaum-2, although the costumes worn by each of the five performers has been specified.  In an ideal situation each of the five performers should wear a different coloured dress suit, each preferably characterised by a single striking colour.  The one feature that needs to unite the five performers is a hat, which each of the performers adopts during the opening section of the work.

 

Resource material that has been used by the composer to write this introduction can be found in two recent theoretical papers: “The Russian Futurist Connection: Rediscovering language through music-theatre” and “The Significative Potential of Music in the Theatre.”  Copies are available from the composer who can be contacted through Evos music, GPO Box N1051 Perth 6001 Western Australia or the Logos Foundation, Kongostraat 35, B-9000 Gent, Belgium.

 

 

 

Zaum-2 was first presented in an incomplete form on Wednesday 17th February 1993 as part of contemporary music week in Ghent, Belgium.  It was performed in the KMC Grote Zaal as part of a concert called “Van Marinetti (¡1876) tot Laskewicz (¡1971)” and involved the following performers:  Johan Vercruysse, Hilde Gyssels, Rudy Lareu, Karin de Fleyt, Marc Maes and Nancy Verhelst.

 

The first complete performance of Zaum-2 took place also in Ghent as part of the Stekelbees Festival organized by Victoria, a local theatre group.  In this performance, Zaum-2 formed the second division for a three part theatre composition which is collectively known as ZAUM. The performers involved were as follows:  Anouk De Clerk, Tine Hens, Linde Tilley, An Vercruysse, Trui Vereecke.

 

Introduction

 

                      “It is not new objects which should be used in art, but a new

                        and fantastic light should be thrown upon the old ones.”

                                                         Ñ Alexei Kruchenykh

 

Zaum-2 is a music-theatre composition for five performers and tape, and is envisaged as the central movement in a three movement work.  Zaum-1 and Zaum-3 form respectively the first and the last sections of the complete ZAUM composition, although the three individual movements can be performed separately. 

 

The name for this composition is derived from radical language based concepts presenting an entirely new attitude to language and communication - ‘Zaum language’ - introduced during the Russian futurist era, a particularly unique period of history in art close by the turn of the century.  This is basically a form of poetic communication that redefined language itself, but not in terms of ‘meaning’ in the translatable sense; according to the Russian futurists, poetry using language restricted by strict referential meaning and grammatical structures was no longer a valid form of artistic communication. Poetry was extended to include non-referential sounds that could nevertheless be enjoyed ‘by themselves,’ an attitude that had previously been confined to music. This composition takes the futurist theory and extends it through various contrasting theoretical concepts.  The intention is to create a theatrical composition based on this new attitude to language, but to escape from the bonds of Western musical and theatrical conventions by adopting alternative communicative forms.  The Russian futurists in their adoption of zaum language certainly caught more than a glimpse of what was to become the obsession of Antonin Artaud:  the creation of a new language unique to the theatre, where the word is broken from its traditionally accepted meaning and discovered in a completely new form.  From his famous volume of theoretical essays The Theatre and its Double a clear image of this language can be found:

           

                      “In the theatre, a line is a sound, a movement is

                        music and the gesture which emerges from a

                        sound is like a key word in a sentence.”

 

This composition explores the possibilities of discovering music as a theatrical text and of music communicating in the form of a language presenting various levels of ambiguity that can provide alternative ways for ‘meaning’ to be rendered in the theatre.

 

Background

 

Russian futurism contrasted considerably to avant-garde art movements occurring around the same time in different parts of Europe, and was in fact a deliberate step away from Western influence.  The resulting work reflected a dichotomy:  a vision for the future, and an interest in ancient history.  This expressed itself through their highly innovative ways of rethinking language.  The Russian futurists remain to this day largely unrecognised and ignored, the dominant figure being the Italian futurists whose obsession with war, speed and the city makes them easier to classify under their chosen title.  There is no doubt that the Italian futurists changed the face of aesthetic values through their deconstruction of grammar, words and the pictorial image, reflecting their dislike for the rigid conventions of society.  This is the primary common factor between the Italian and the Russian futurists, although the Russians took these notions further, using this deconstruction to create something new, vital and constructive for the changing world.  The Russians certainly recognized this contrast, in fact they rejected the Italians and felt that they had surpassed them even before they became labelled with the name ‘futurists’. These artists in fact rejected Western Europe entirely and were interested in Eastern Philosophy:  Benedict Livshits, an important Russian futurist poet and theoretician, described the West and the East as completely different systems of aesthetic vision and said that the Russians should recognise themselves as Asians.

 

 

A group of artists recognised for the extremity of their experimental work became known as the ‘cubo-futurists’.  The name of this composition is taken from one of the primary theoretical innovations introduced by members of this group: Zaumni Yazyk (abbreviated zaum), meaning ‘trans-sense language.’  This is basically a form of poetic communication that redefined language itself, but not in terms of ‘meaning’ in the translatable sense:  according to the cubo-futurists, poetry using language restricted by strict referential meaning and grammatical structures was no longer a valid form of artistic communication. Poetry was extended to include non-referential sounds that could nevertheless be enjoyed ‘by themselves,’ an attitude that had previously been confined to music.  These linguistic innovations certainly extended beyond merely the meaningless stringing together of Russian sounds and into areas of communication that had rarely  been seriously considered.  This included the theatre:  Alexei Kruchenykh (1886-1969), one of the primary theoreticians of zaum language, said that he saw zaum as the only possibility for use in the new theatre and cinema. According to Jindrich Honzl, a member of the Prague structuralist school “with the advent of the cubo-futurist theatre new materials appeared on the stage, and formerly undreamed of things acquired various representative functions.”(“Dynamics of the Sign in the Theatre”, Semiotics of Art [MIT Press 1976])

 

Alexei Kruchenykh was to become the primary supporter and theoretician of zaum, which he saw as a leading mode of expression.  He believed that trans-sense language was demanded by the confused character of contemporary life and served as an antidote to the paralysis of common language.  This was a reaction against the obsession with meaning, reason, psychology and philosophy presented by the conservative literary traditions.  The absurdity of Kruchenykh’s most experimental works was a very specific behaviour; it was different from the seemingly absurd with a hidden message, different even from the surreal type of subconscious associations.  This absurdity was a totally meaningless combination of sounds and visual elements designed only to present new ways of experiencing language.  The work of Alexei Kruchenykh was particularly influential to this composition.  Most of the vocal sound material adopted is taken from deconstructed Kruchenykh poems, poems that in any case have no ‘meaning’ in the traditional Western sense.  In this composition the sounds are reconstructed in an apparently impossible theatrical reality in order to present alternative language systems that have ‘meaning’ only within the context of the composition.

 

Scenario

 

Kruchenykh played a particularly significant role with regard to the theory and use of zaum language. He thought that the conservative literary traditions placed serious limitations on poetic imagination, invention, verbal play and spontaneous intuition.  Kruchenykh suggested that the ‘emptier’ the poetic imagination, the more creative and fruitful the poetic result: the penetration of the mysteries beyond the rational world.   These anarchic attitudes to language form the basis for this composition, and the emphasis is on the rejection of the idea of any ‘sense’ or ‘meaning’ in the Western sense in order for some kind of signification to occur: traditional meanings are stripped from already existing gestural and vocal models, and new and ridiculous ‘meaning systems’ are presented in their place. Vocal material taken from a complete fragmentation of one of Kruchenykh’s ‘meaningless’ zaum poems forms the structural element.  The performers are given names formed from the fragmented sound pool and are constantly referred to by five voices on tape who are using a nonsense language based similarly on the zaum fragments.  The names become primary signifiers for the five involved: at various times in the composition, the characters are called on by these names resulting in some important developmental change within the composition.  The names actually exist in two forms, the standard and the familiar (typical of the Russian convention) and both are adopted during the composition.  Below is the poem itself in the form that it appeared  when it was published, followed by a translation into Russian letters, a phonetic transcription, and then the ‘names’ of the performers which were taken from the fragmentations.

 

ser[amelepeta

senhl  ok

rizum

meleva

alik a levamax

li li lub b]l

 

cerzhamyelyepyeta

cyenyal ock

rezoom

myelyeva

alik a levamax

le le lyoub byoul

 

Kruchenykh, Explodity (1914):  Lithographed page of zaum writing illustrated by Kulbin.

 

Performer 1:  Ser[, Ser[ok   Serjh, Serzhok

Performer 2:  Peta, Petax    Peta, Petax

Performer 3:  Mel, Melok                 Mjel, Mjelok

Performer 4:  Alik, Alikom    Alik, Alikom

Performer 5:  Zum, Zumok   Zoom, Zoomok

 

Development in this part of the composition is presented by a constant transformation between ‘theatrical’ and ‘musical’ states that is brought about by contrasting performance situations that allude to theatrical ‘meaning’ with totally ‘meaningless’ gestures/sounds:  the composition begins with performers adopting potentially ‘meaningful’ gestures which form into an amusing musical pattern (almost without sound), just as the composition ends after a musical vocal composition develops into a performance that alludes to Russian ‘slapstick’ theatre.  The purpose is to explore points of ambiguity between ‘musical’ and ‘theatrical’ communication.  The central section of Zaum-2 uses this ambiguity to create an absurd ‘performance’ language. A simple series of movements taken from Zaum-1 are brought to life by prerecorded vocal sounds. After a number of repetitions the movements become associated with these vocal sounds, and therefore a new ‘performance’ language is created before the eyes of the audience.

 

Zaum-2 is divided into three sections;  (i) Beginning Time,

                                                                        (ii) Vertolk Middel,

                                                                        (iii) End Play.

 

 

 

Section One: Beginning Time

Lighting emerges on the five performers, who stand side-by-side centre stage close by the audience, staring blankly as if entirely disinterested in the performance event.  It begins first with the performers using certain gestures seemingly at random:   coughing, checking watch, clearing throat, sighing etc.  At first the pauses between the gestures are excruciatingly long, and it appears as if the performers are waiting for something to happen.  The audience is directly confronted with ‘out of frame’ activity, material that is both non-musical and non-theatrical, but which is obviously impossible to disattend because the performers have already been recognised as such and are standing in the centre of the stage. These gestures are soon rendered absurd when they are repeated and patterns begin to form, revealing that there is actually more at work than simply the presentation of impatient performers.  This soon forms into a musical structure when the gestures form part of a simple repeated rhythmic series, changing completely the interpretative possibilities.

 

Section Two: Vertolk Middel

The tape part emerges around the live performance ensemble with whispered conversational vocal sounds that appear to come from nowhere. A sudden loud sibilant sound (Shh!) stills the ensemble who were previously performing the absurd rhythmic gestures.  The five voices on tape are speaking a language that seems to resemble Russian.  The first reaction from the performance ensemble is to be seemingly shocked, causing them to look in all directions to see exactly from where the sounds emerge.  A number of whispered sounds on the tape lead to a shouted command which brings the ensemble to attention.  Then vocal commands are shouted causing individual performers to move to different positions on the stage, until all members of the ensemble are positioned in specified places around the performance space.  Simple syllabic vocal  sounds become represented on the stage by simple movements from the performers (the raising of an arm, turning of the head etc.); the voices appear to be commanding the performers to move.  The same vocal sound comes to represent the same movement for a certain performer, and a number of the vocal sounds are shared by all the performers.  In other words, a ‘semiotic code’ is created on the stage, where the audience is deliberately directed into recognising  an entirely  new, be it limited, ‘stage language.’  Ambiguity is presented by the contrast between the symbolic nature of the language when it appears that the sounds act as movement commands, and the indexical nature of the sounds on tape which set up an intrinsic relationship between certain sounds and certain movements.  The sound in itself becomes the movement, and a sound-based movement composition is performed. This absurd presentation of  a language system is theoretically provocative, parodying theatre forms which use always the same form of preset language conventions to communicate in the theatre.

 

The vocal/movement sounds on tape become more frequent until finally all the performers are moving in reaction to the cassette.  A point of development is reached where ‘movement words’ are formed by the syllabic Russian fragments, and each performer has a specific ‘word’ which he must perform.    After a climactic point where all the voices are reading these performance words simultaneously, the voices one by one stop and the ensemble on stage is still.  Then the names of the performers are called and one by one they move into specified positions surrounding the performance space. 

 

Section Three: End Play

The lighting fades out and the sound of voices in whispered conversation can be heard from the tape.  This develops into a musical structure based on the transferal of whispered words that allude to some sort of conspiratorial conversation into sibilant sounds stooped of theatrical ‘meaning’.  After further development ending with the chanting of Russian syllables, the climax is reached: a loud declamation from voice three results in the lights being brought up suddenly. Two performers are spotlighted centre stage presenting a theatrical fragment almost in slow motion in which one of the two appears to punch the other in the face.   The three remaining performers surrounding the spotlight are revealed applauding wildly.  A number of short scenes are presented by the same two performers, separated by changing the colour of the lighting to differentiate the divisions. The others introduce these scenes by reading sections from the complete zaum poem by Kruchenykh that was fragmented to form the nonsense language used previously.  Performer three, evidently dissatisfied with this short performance, stands suddenly and shouts a text fragment in Russian taken from a different Kruchenykh text: “Lets quickly put an end to this worthless comic act.”(Alexei Kruchenykh, Slovo Kak Takovoe [Moscow 1913]: pg. 11).   The entrance of this text brings about recorded animal sounds which quickly throw the performance into chaos.  The Kruchenykh text spreads from one performer to the other (in a number of different languages) as the farmyard animals become louder and louder, resulting finally in the recorded voices screaming the work ‘nyet’.  The five performers are suddenly silent and shrug their shoulders slowly and simultaneously in the direction of an unseen observer beyond the stage.  The performance space is then quickly brought into darkness.

 

Characters

 

A performance of Zaum-2 requires the use of five actors to play the roles of five individual ‘characters’.  These characters are not representative of individual human figures and have no predefined characteristics.  As such, being genderless and ageless, the actors can be freely chosen for the different roles depending on who is suited best to which role. 

 

The characters are distinguished firstly by a number and a name.  In the score, the numbers 1 to 5 refer to the recorded voices, and the names (written in the Cyrillic alphabet) refer to the live performers on stage.  The five prerecorded voices always refer and affect (in a number of different ways) the actions of the same performer on stage, and it is therefore assumed that the voices of an actor will read/perform the corresponding vocal line to his/her chosen role.  The numbers are sometimes used to refer to the live performers on stage especially in diagrams demonstrating movement across the stage.  In any case, the numbers and the names refer always to the same performer/voice as listed below:

 

1         Ser[            Blue Jacket

2         Peta Yellow Jacket

3         Mel             Grey Jacket

4         Alik   Green Jacket

5         Zum           Red Jacket

 

Requirements

 

The costume requirements for Zaum-2 are very simple.  The performers are required to wear a black costume that facilitates movement.  This can take the form of a black dress shirt and a pair of loose trousers. The clothing should in any case not be skin tight.  Each of the performers requires a different coloured dress jacket.  These jackets are relatively important because the only way the characters can be distinguished on stage is through the colour of the jacket which he/she wears.  The identity of any actor has little significance, and thus an actor could change roles during the performance simply by changing jackets.  The list above includes the colour of the jackets required by the performers.  The colours should be as striking as possible to assist in distinguishing the characters.  Five matching hats are also required during the performance and act both to recall the period of the Russian futurists as well as to perform various functions during the progress of the composition.  These hat should resemble detective hats typical for the period of the futurists and the colour is preferably black.

 

The only stage items necessary are matching chairs.  If a performance of this work follows a performance of Zaum-1 five chairs will be necessary, but if Zaum-2 is performed alone only three chairs are needed.  These chairs should be sturdy and made of wood, preferably painted black and not too heavy.  At the beginning of the performance the chairs should be lined up in a row facing the audience along the back of the stage and are required for use only in the third section of the composition: End Play.

 

Notation

 

The notation in Zaum-2 can be simply defined as a convention system that presents graphically musical and theatrical events.  The score divides the composition into specified time divisions where ‘time’ is considered as a forwardly moving continuum represented by moving from the left to the right side of the page. The actions of five performers on stage, as well as the prerecorded vocal sounds that must be played while the live performance takes place, are represented in the score by divisions listed on the left-hand side of the page.  Numbers 1-5 specify the recorded voices, whereas the names of the ‘characters’ (listed previously) are used to represent the live performers.

 

The exact position in time that the composition has reached is represented by the Time Track  positioned above the other parts.  Time is represented here by specifying the duration of certain time divisions.  These time divisions are presented in two different forms.  The first is demonstrated in illustration 1a where a distinct time interval is specified (or suggested by the presence of instructions or musical notation).  The second is demonstrated by illustration 1b where the division is divided into regular time intervals (usually seconds), and is used for more complex performance events . The length of these regular divisions is given above the time track in the form of a metronome marking.  If purely musical notation is used, no time track is necessary because the division of time is naturally signified by the tempo. 

 

Straight lines or arrows proceeding in a vertical direction across the score and thus dividing it into these time divisions will hereby be known as time signifying lines.   The beginning of a certain time division can bring about the performance of one or a number of events.  These performance events are formed by the use of written texts (mostly using the Russian alphabet) that are read in a style suggested by instructions, musical excerpts if the performance involves rhythm or some kind of melodic line, and notation systems to signify the performance of movement.   

 

The presence of time signifying lines usually means a new performance event must take place, and the performance event closest to the line is performed directly after the time signifying line.  If any other sound or action is somewhere else within the division, and there are no other instructions in the time division which could suggest when the event should occur (such as written instructions, the presence of every second on the time track or notated rhythms)  then it must be performed in approximately that position in time, dependent on its graphic position on the page and within the time division (see illustration 2). However, if an event is surrounded in an enclosed shape with a line emerging that continues through the following time signifying line, the event is repeated or continues to occur until the arrow reaches a time signifying line (or possibly another event) in which case the player stops and changes to the new event directly following the line (see illustration 3a).  If an event is to end in a position in the middle of a time division, a short line is used to demonstrate precisely where the event stops (see illustration 3b). Instructions can sit above the arrow itself which will change the manner in which the contents of the box is repeated, e.g. getting louder or faster.  If a performance event is surrounded by a box that has no line emerging, this means that the single event is actually stretched out to fill completely the time division, therefore is only performed once (see illustration 3c). An event with a line emerging without an arrow head can help to demonstrate how long the performance of a single action/sound lasts, usually used within a time division (see illustration 3d).

 

The presence of a dotted line joining performance events during a time division signifies that a particular event is related to another event in some way.  If the line is straight and one of the events occurs after the first then the event situated further on in the score occurs directly  after the first is completed (see illustration 4).  However if the line is on an angle there is a short pause between the events which is sometimes specified (see illustration 5).  If the time is not specified in some way on the score, then it is considered as equal to a ‘breath mark’ - a short pause (a small comma is also used within performance events to demonstrate such a pause).  If a straight dotted line joins the beginning of two performance events then this means that the two events must begin at the same time (see illustration 6a).  Sometimes the dotted line form is used simply to link performance events that are in some way related to one another, such as performers interacting, and are elucidated by instructions (see illustration 11).  A dotted line can be also related to the time track to signify precisely at which position an event begins or ends (see illustration 6b).

 

Interpretation of the contents of text-based performance events is particularly important in the composition.  An understanding of the sounds of the Russian Cyrillic alphabet is obviously necessary, because some sounds are used that simply do not exist in the English language.  Instructions are often printed above and/or below the Cyrillic letters to guide the performer to a correct reading of the text.  If Cyrillic letters are not used, the text that must be read is printed in noticeably different form in order for them to be differentiated from the instructions.

 

In addition to the Russian alphabet, a certain number of symbols are used that are also necessary when interpreting the text.  A horizontal line emerging from a letter-group represents unbroken sound which may be accompanied by further instructions as to what type of sound is to be made - sibilant, emotive, violent etc. (see illustration 7a).  A longer line can be replaced by simply a dash but is representative of the same thing - a long vocal sound (see illustration 7b).  A curving line signifies that the pitch of the sound is increased (or decreased) over the time that the sound is made (see illustration 7c).  If a difference in pitch is to be specified, it is related to a central line which is considered a mid-range pitch.  Beneath the line is a low range pitch and above is a high range, so logically a line that moves from beneath the line to a point above it specifies a rising pitch.  The presence of a letter group below or above a musical note signifies a syllabic sound.  The notation convention is considered the same: if the note is positioned above the line, it is high pitched and so forth.  An exclamation mark following the syllable signifies that the syllabic fragment is extroverted and almost violent.  Without an exclamation mark, unless otherwise specified, the sound is detached and without emotion.

 

All of these simple conventional symbols for sounds which are not easily notated by the use of letters alone can be used in combination with standard text symbols in the form of text insertions. In illustration 8a long whispered sounds are inserted in the reciting of a whispered text.  In illustration 8b the insertion of  a syllabic sound into an event is demonstrated.  In addition to these conventions standard musical notation is also used in the second section Vertolk Middel from bar 30.  A musical ‘measure’ or ‘bar’ can be considered to be a rhythmically structured time division.  Sometimes musical notation is also adopted as part of performance events, but this is described clearly on the score.  Musical symbols are used freely in time divisions to dictate certain rhythmic and melodic parameters to performers.

 

Notation of movement in performance events is particularly important in the structure of the composition, and a number of different methods are used.  Based on a semiotic model for language, three contrasting systems are adopted in order to present a more cogent and understandable performance text.  The first method is iconic, where symbols are used that have a connection with the object being represented by virtue of characters of its own.  The icon is represented in the score by diagrams that show where a performer must move on the stage, demonstrated in illustration 9.  These diagrams are positioned below the score, and are related to positions on the time track by large letters (see illustration 11).  Unless otherwise specified it is assumed that the movements specified within the box cannot last longer than the time division in which the reference letter stands.  The icons in the diagram are very easily interpreted, each of the circles being representative for one of the five performers, and the arrow head that forms a part of the circle signifies the direction in which the performer should be facing.  The arrow emerging from the symbol specifies exactly the direction in which the performer should move and also the path that must be covered.  The performer circle by the arrow head represents his final stopping place.  Instructions give suggestions about the manner in which the performers should move, or other actions that should take lace while they are moving.   Symbols are also included in the score to demonstrate the position of chairs.  An arrowhead pointing out of the chair shows in which direction chair is facing, and if a performer circle is positioned over the chair it is assumed that he/she is sitting on the chair.  These boxes can also be used to show important adjustments to the lighting plan.

 

The second method is indexical.  Indexical signs are casually connected with their objects, in other words an index is a sign which refers to the object that it denotes by virtue of being affected by that object.  In the case of its use in the notation, the performers must learn a system of sounds that must appear to have a direct connection with the movements, suggesting some kind of natural coherence between the sounds and the movements or gestures emerging from them.  For example, in Russian the sound ‘Vzzz’ is used as a verb prefix to signify an upward direction, thus the sound itself carries this connotation and in the composition this sound signifies a raising of the hand.  From bar 27 a number of sounds are made that are heard on a recording in the performance and are literally ‘brought to life’ by the performers on stage as movements by being performed at the same time as the sounds.  These sounds are notated in the score, and the specified movements that they come to be represented by in a performance of the work are also listed overleaf.

 

Regarding the recording, it is important for the performers to be aware of the importance of the sounds they are making.  From bar 84-90 movement ‘words’ are are spoken which must be brought to life on stage.  An example of a word is as follows:  br Ñ uz! uz! uz! go! go! go! uz! uz! uz! ob:  Performer 4 lifts first left leg, then takes three small jumps forward (hops), moves head three times,three more jumps, then the leg returns suddenly to the floor.  Performers reading the words should make sure they are able to 'move' the words first - and are very careful that they do not read the text too fast making it impossible to completely 'express' the sounds.

 

The third method is symbolic.  A symbol is a sign which refers to the object that it denotes by virtue of another symbolic sign system that has little or no relationship with the object that is being represented. Here the relationship between sign-vehicle and signified is conventional and unmotivated. In the score artificial symbolic sign systems are used where numbers surrounded by shapes come to represent individual gestures. The illustrations overleaf demonstrates the simple sign system adopted along with the movements brought about by the symbols.

 

Tape

 

The tape part performs a very important role in the performance of this composition, interacting directly with the performance in a number of different and often ambiguous ways. It is therefore essential that it be recorded at the highest possible quality to provide a crispness in the reproduction without distortion.  The tape part should be recorded n stereo and the voices should be position in a stereo soundscape as illustrated below.  Otherwise the only other specifications necessary relate to the farmyard animal sounds.  Here five different farmyard animal sounds are required , and the five voices stay in the same panning position.  The performers can choose their own animal sounds, the intention being simply to provide an amusing way to bring the composition to a climactic conclusion.  For the premiere performance of Zaum-2 the first three farmyard animals were chickens!

 

Notes

 

“ZAUM: New Music-Theatre for five performers and tape”

 

A more detailed description of this composition is available in the form of a book describing the complete ZAUM composition. Copies are available and enquiries should be sent to the following address:

 

Night Shades Press

c/o Zachar Laskewicz

Victoria Theatre

Fratersplein 7

b-9000 Ghent

BELGIUM

 



[1]   Antonin Artaud , ÒTheatre and PoetryÓ, Artaud and Theatre (ed.) Claude Schumacher

  (Methuen Drama London 1989): 5. The Theatre and its Double.

[2] Jindrich Honzl, ÒDynamics of the Sign in the TheatreÓ, Semiotics of Art (MIT Press 1976).

[3] Osip Brik, ÒOn KhlebnikovÓ, The Ardis Anthology of Russian Futurism (Ardis Lakeland Press 1980).

[4] Vahan D. Barooshian, Russian Cubo-futurism (mouton Paris 1976): Chapter 4.

[5] Charlotte Douglas, ÒViews from the New World,Ó  Ardis Anthology of Russian Futurism (Lakeland Press 1980).

[6] Kornej Chukovsky, Futuristy (Peterburg 1922).

[7] Vahan D. Barooshian, Russian Cubo-Futurism (Mouton Paris 1976): Chapter 5.

[8] Antonin Artaud , ÒTheatre and PoetryÓ, Artaud and Theatre (ed.) Claude Schumacher

  (Methuen Drama London 1989): 5. The Theatre and its Double.

[9] Five voices on tape directly represent the actions of the same five characters on stage.

[10] The characters can only be  distinguished by their names and the colours of their jackets:1 - Ser[ Serge         

  (blue),   2 - Peta Pyeta  (yellow), 3 - Mel Mjel  (grey), 4 - Alik Alik (green), 5 - Zum Zoom  (red).

[11] This could be taken to refer to the sometimes regimented social systems in which we live or to the

    language systems that are presented most commonly in the theatre.

[12] The jackets function to distinguish the characters in the performance.  The identity of the performer here

     has no significance, and thus an actor can change roles in the performance simply by changing jackets.

[13] This is of course assuming that the performers are not Russian speaking.

[14] Kier Elam, The Semiotics of Theatre and Drama (Routledge 1988): 2. Foundations.

[15] Charles Pierce, Collected Papers  1931-58 (Cambridge Mass): Vol. 2.

[16] Kier Elam, The Semiotics of Theatre and Drama (Routledge 1988): 2. Foundations.

[17] Kier Elam, The Semiotics of Theatre and Drama (Routledge 1988): 2. Foundations.

[18] It could also be said that the descriptive use of instructions is also the adoption of a standard symbolic          

     system: the English language.

[19] Julia Kristeva, Desire in Language (CUP New York 1980): 1. The Ethics of Linguistics.

[20] Sonora:Poesia Sonora, Cramps Records (Memoria Spa, 20123 Milano):  Zaum, transmental language.

[21] Antonin Artaud , ÒTo AndrŽ GideÓ, Artaud and Theatre (ed.) Claude Schumacher

    (Methuen Drama London 1989): 5. The NRF Project.

[22] Khlebnikov, ÒZangezi,Ó The Ardis Anthology of Russian Futurism (Ardis Lakeland Press 1980).

[23] Khlebnikov, Tvoreniya (Sovyetski PisatelÕ  Moscow 1986): pg. 482.

[24] Khlebnikov, Tvoreniya (Sovyetski PisatelÕ  Moscow 1986): pg. 54.

[25] Woordenboek der Gebarentaal had evidently been produced independently, as no publication details            

 were included. The address of the author is as follows:  J. Van Doren, A. Kennisplein17, 2100 Deurne,  Belgium.

[26] Vahan D. Barooshian, Russian Cubo-Futurism (Ardis Lakeland Press 1980): pg. 83.

[27] Kruchenykh Explodity (1914):  Lithographed page of zaum writing illustrated by Kulbin.

[28] These names also form the name fragments which result in the incantation of the performers at the

     beginning of Zaum-1.

[29] Non-standard material was also readily adopted in Russian futurist performance.

[30] These vocal sounds have been taken freely from the Russian alphabet.

[31] Alexei Kruchenykh, Slovo Kak Takovoe (Moscow 1913): pg. 11

[32] Beryl De Zoete and Walter Spies, ÒDance and Drama in BaliÓ Traditional Balinese Culture(ed.) Jane Belo

    (Columbia University Press 1970).

[33] Gerhard Kubik, ÒPattern Perception and Recognition in African MusicÓ The Performing Arts (ed.) John

   Blacking (Mouton 1979).

[34] Vasily Kamensky, Sto Poetov (Moscow, 1923).

[35] In Zaum-3 an Indonesian musical technique is used called ÔImbahlÕ.  Here two contrasting melodies (one 

    playing on the beat and the other on the off-beat) are united and form together a new melody.

[36] Sonora:Poesia Sonora, Cramps Records (Memoria Spa, 20123 Milano):What is sound poetry? 

[37] Annabelle Melzer, Latest Rage the Big Drum (UMI Resesarch Press 1980).

[38] Sonora:Poesia Sonora, Cramps Records: Forerunners and Dadaists in Germany.

[39] Charlotte Douglas, ÒView from the New WorldÓ Ardis Anthology of Russian Futurism  (Ardis Press 1980).

 

 

 

 

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September 27 2013.

 

 

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