Some Thoughts on “Minimalism” and “Post-Minimalism”
The term “minimalism” was originally applied in the art world to pieces such as Robert Rauschenberg’s “White Painting” from 1951 and the work of many other artists that followed. I have read, however, that minimalism was used in the early 20th century to describe Kazimir Malevich’s, “Black Cube” from 1915. These terms appear to cast a wide net, and there are always outliers.
With regard to music, an early minimalist piece would be La Monte Young's Composition 1960 #7, where fifths (B and F#) are sounded for any instrument for any duration. (I like that it was No. 7 because a fifth is created by seven half-steps. I do not know if that was intentional or serendipity.)
I am aware that Glass, Reich and Riley do not like the term “minimalist,” especially looking at their work in the 70s and beyond. Many of the pieces these composers created were in and for ensembles they formed themselves, and the instrumentation was inspired by rock, jazz, or music from other cultures. Pieces that come to mind are Four Organs by Steve Reich and music from the Philip Glass ensemble using an organ keyboard sound at its center, common in pop music of the time. Also, Drumming by Steve Reich is a group piece he created through experimentation with his musicians.
Other important pieces in the “minimalist” canon include Riley’s In C (1964), Reich’s It’s Gonna Rain (1965), and Glass’s Music in Fifths (1967). All three pieces demonstrate repetition/periodicity, a gradual change of texture, or a gradual change of a musical line over time, using phasing, canonic, and/or additive techniques. These pieces have in common processes that necessitate an evolution over a long stretch of time. Many so-called post-minimal pieces, on the other hand, can get their point across in 2-5 minutes.
Many working in new music over the last couple of generations have their own definition of minimalism and post-minimalism. As I recall, John Adams has a “definition” of post-minimalism on his website. I think he said he was one of the first to apply the term post-minimalism to music. Some say it was Kyle Gann. Many feel Duckworth’s Time Curve Preludes from 1977 is the first example of post-minimalism.
However, I recently heard for the first time a piece called Pulse Music II (1975-77) by John McGuire. There is one recording of it from 1978 by members of the Bremen Symphony orchestra and released in April of 2022 on the label Unseen Worlds. I think this is an important piece that deserves more attention and hopefully a U.S. premiere in the near future. For me, it is a bridge from minimalism to post-minimalism due to its medium duration of 20 minutes, yet there are clear harmonic and textural shifts every few minutes.
A difference between minimalism and post-minimalism -- but not the only one -- is that the latter tends to embrace completely written out scores with instruments and performers. (But there are probably examples that shred this supposition.) Also, post-minimalism tends to apply patterns and processes to the kind of periodic and recurring melodic, harmonic and rhythmic grooves or pulses found in other genres such as jazz, rock, and non-western traditions.
In my experience, Europeans tend to lump everyone together and just call Americans of a certain camp “minimalists." To be honest, I am not even sure if I fall into the post-minimalist camp anymore, but some, including myself, will sometimes use it for expediency.
When I was a student at the University of Illinois, one of my composition teachers was Herbert Brun. Leaving Germany after 1934, he avoided anything in his music that had repetition or periodicity as it reminded him of Prussian marches and jingoism. This train of thought was considered one of the reasons why European composers of the avant-garde -- experiencing the trauma of WWII -- embraced the irregular rhythms of modernism. Looking at Carmina Burana, premiered in Frankfurt in 1937, and a Nazi favorite, one can see why the European avant-garde went in a different direction. Yet I also noticed that as composers like Xenakis and Ligeti moved into their 50s and 60s, they incorporated more periodic rhythmic movement in their music. Pieces that come to mind are Xenakis’ percussion trio Okho (1989) and Ligeti’s Three Pieces for Two Pianos (1976). The second piece in the set is even subtitled Self-portrait with Reich and Riley (with Chopin in the background).
My student compositions in my early 20s were heavily influenced by modernism and the sound of Xenakis and Ligeti. Gradually, my music took on the harmony and rhythm of my life experience. As a performer of jazz and Latin music from my teens, I draw on a mélange of sounds and influences as well as incorporating numeric patterns and medieval techniques such as isorhythm and hocketing. My composing “toolkit” – so to speak – is an eclectic array of devices and processes.
All Music described my 2014 album Scatter My Ashes as “the next developments in the sphere increasingly unsatisfactorily termed minimalism” and as “state-of-the-art examples of this style world.” I think using “increasingly unsatisfactorily” is apt, especially as four of the pieces were composed between 2009 and 2011 and another goes back to 1992. Looking back, my voice was emerging over 30 years.