Thursday, October 30, 2008

Commentary on the Vox Arcana Performance

In class we talked of how someone once recognized Cage and told him how he had seen him in the game show displaying his knowledge of mushrooms and in his performance of Water Walk. The man told Cage he was a genius, but he should really just stick to mushrooms. I love the fact that Cage took no offense and thought this was hilarious. I guess that is the type of attitude one must have when delving into the unfamiliar territory of experimental music. Within the group Vox Arcana, I noticed the same sort of attitude amongst the members. The clarinet player even mentioned how they could play music that everyone wanted to hear, but that is not the purpose of their band. The band members accepted that not all people enjoy their music, but like Cage they took no offense. This is what prompted me to ask my question about whether or not they tried to incorporate humor into their performances as Cage did in Water Walk. From Tim Daisy’s easy-going personality, I felt comfortable that it would not be taken offensively. Tim Daisy said that he understood that some things in the performance, like his facial expressions and movements, were funny and that it is okay to laugh if one finds something funny. This way in which the group interacted with the audience very much reminded me of how Cage wanted people to react to his performances.

The thing I found most interesting is how the music varied from the morning to the evening performance. If Tim Daisy hadn’t introduced the piece with the Croatian title at the evening performance, I would not have thought that it was the same song we heard in the morning. I could pick up some familiarity when they played the little repetitive tune that, I assume, was specifically written in the music; but the parts of improvisation were so incredibly different. Vox Arcana’s music was very Cageian in that every performance was different.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Overdue Thoughts About Friday

I know I’m not a big fan of all music experimental, but I actually enjoyed the Vox Arana concert last Friday. I mean, I wasn’t running out and telling my friends about it, and I’m not going to be buying any CDs, but I’m not wishing that I had those hours of my life back either, and felt I learned some things. So it was, overall, a good experience.

A few observations.

I thought that everyone asked good questions, except me because I didn’t ask one which probably says something about my artistic sensibilities. I thought the whole discussion about Vox Arcana’s differences with Cage about taste in music were interesting, and I liked the question about how VA (I’m tired of typing “Vox Arcana”) incorporated music into their concerts like Cage did.

If I had asked a question, I would have asked “Despite the similarities between your compositions and Cage’s, what, in your opinion, is the primary way in which you depart from the Cageian ethos?” But I didn’t ask it because it would have made me sound pretentious and annoying, and I didn’t think of it till later anyway. Besides, I think someone already asked it. So it’s probably a good thing I kept my mouth shut.

I couldn’t help but notice how the band was dressed. I don’t know what I expected, but they seemed to go for the “college professor” look. Except for the celloist, who looked like he was playing a Russian peasant.

Of the pieces they played, I liked “Silver Fence”, though they really didn’t have to play it twice (during the workshop, then later), and that one piece Angelle (I think) mentioned in class, though I have absolutely no idea what it was called. But it was closer to mainstream music than anything else we’ve listened to this year, so maybe that will ring some bells.

Nobody outside our class really had many good questions, did they? I mean, I didn’t ask a question, so maybe I’m not one to talk, but still, is “do you do this for a living?” really the best the rest of the FYS’s could come up with?

I was talking to someone after the workshop, and she was all like “that’s not music, that’s just noise.” That surprised me, because VA is the most mainstream stuff we’ve listened to all year. Unless you count Dylan, and I don’t, because that really wasn’t for our Cage course.

Saturday, October 25, 2008

They Just Aren't as Cultured as We Are

I must agree that the workshop on Friday was totally cool. I was so neat to see these people who actually put into practice all (or most) of the things we've been talking about this semester -and I must agree that I was pretty impressed that they all seemed to be experts on Cage and experimental music themselves. I loved having the opportunity to ask them how they do things, like, whether they write in the composition when they use the cowbell or pie pans and when they stop. It makes sense they way that Tim Daisy said he implements those tools, not writing down a play-by-play, but having a set mood or sound for those few measures. I was actually surprised when he said that other composers write in precisely when they do things like that.
I also have to agree that the performance was made even more interesting by the reactions of the rest of the audience. I listened in on some conversations afterward just to see what other people though of it. I'll admit I was disappointed with some of their comments, but then, I supposed everyone can't be as cultured as our FYS class... I think it's good that the band members are aware of this, though. They even said that, yeah, they do this for a living, but they can't do just this. They'll admit that they have to do more conventional jazz too, because -like we saw- lots of people just don't get it. I thought it was pretty telling of this attitude when the clarinet player was talking about manipulation of the audience. He said that they know they could manipulate some of their sounds to make them more appealing to the audience, but it's not always about what the audience wants (which is a pretty bold statement for someone who makes his living as a musician, I think). Though he said that he doesn't always agree with Cage's never wanting to force an emotion on someone through music, he seems to hold the same ideas about music being for its own sake; not for the musician, not for the audience, but music for music's sake.
I was pretty bummed out that I couldn't go to the concert on Friday night (work gets in the way of everything!) but I was glad I was able to ask all -or most- of my questions. I didn't realize I had so many until the clarinet player pointed it out (then I thought I'd better stop, or risk being too obnoxious). Overall, I think that one piece -for all you Croatians out there!- that meant "explore" was my favorite. Oh, and I made chocolate cake today. Maybe I'll make music with the pan later...

Friday, October 24, 2008

Tim Daisy's Band

Tim Daisy's band today was pretty good. I wasn't sure how much of an influence Cage had on them but after the first song it was very apparent. I really liked all the different sounds he made with his prepared drums. It was crazy seeing all house hold stuff he used. I thought the paint brushes made a pretty cool sound. I was thrilled to see the cow bell, but I must say I needed more cow bell. It was very Cageian the way he pick stuff up, used it for a few seconds, and then tossed it aside; and if something fell off it didn't matter. I was also interesting to see some of the expressions on people's faces. Most people were completely surprised and befuddled by the preformance, but all the people in our class were just like, "Oh, its a Cage preformance". I was also surprised at how knowledgable they were about Cage. I expected them to know about him and his music but they seem more like complete experts. They also had a pretty good sense of humor and understood that some poeple had no idea what was going on. I really enjoyed the preformance, it was something completely different. I sure the concert tonight will be even more interesting, maybe some prepared cello?

Tim Daisy's Vox Arcana Today

Tim Daisy's new band is playing for us here at Thomas More today. I have added a link to an article from a Lexington blog that discusses Daisy and the music of Vox Arcana. Note the John Cage reference.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Random Thoughts

I’m excited to see Tim Daisy’s band play on Friday because I have always loved to watch people incorporate improvisations into their performance. Probably this is because I can’t do it myself. Well, I’m not sure if I can’t, but I can never think of anything to play when the opportunity presents itself. Improvisation is random and unprepared; it’s like a musical stream of consciousness. In a sense, it goes against Cage’s idea of having music written beforehand and then performing, but in a sense it also follows Cage’s idea of chance operation. The musician may not roll a die and specifically follow all of the chance operation processes, but the musician is leaving it up to chance when he plays whatever sounds come to mind.

When we watched Sun Ra’s performance, I couldn’t really tell what was improvisation and what was composed and practiced because it all was a big jumble of noise. Even though I heard it as a loud jumble, when I concentrated my focus on individual noises I thought of something interesting. To me, it sounds as if Sun Ra’s music is a large jumble of the unknown, as is space. We don’t exactly know what’s out there, but we know that it’s packed with a lot of different “stuff”. The music of Sun Ra contains several different instruments in his arkestra which could be symbolically the “stuff” in space. When you pick out each instrument or sound in the music, you find that each seems to express a different story or emotion that is unknown to the listener. The listener is interested because the music carries a sort of mystery in that it seems odd or foreign to the ear. This similar to space in that each object is unique and there are many fascinating details about space objects that we do not fully understand yet. People take an interest in space because of our unfamiliarity; it perks the curious mind.

Whether it’s improvisation or composed, I have respect for any musician who will walk the line and express themselves through the sounds of music.

Not From This Planet

When we started discussing Sun Ra and his style of music, I thought, like many others, he was insane. But then once I started thinking about it I realized I had seen a band that was cosmic before but I could not remember who it was or where I had seen them. Then the other day it hit me when I was talking to J.J. I had actually been to what was basically an outdoor club in Italy, and the band that night was like Sun Ra in a way. I am not sure what they were singing about because it was in Italian, but what they looked like I do remember. They had a "rocket" made of I think plastic, that they walked out of onto stage to make their grand entrance. Then each one was introduced and they walked out. They all looked like they were a part of Star Wars gone wrong. The lead singer had on a space helmet that lights went across the front on. He also had on a funny looking shiny cape, and when he sang he used a synthesizer so it sounded like he was in fact from space. The guitarist also had on a really funny cape and he had on a helmet that I am not sure what it was supposed to be it just looked really odd. He also had on space boots and shiny silver gloves. The drummer had an alien mask on, a shiny pink space suit, and bright yellow gloves and shoes. Then they started playing. It sounded kind of like some of Sun Ra's stuff but it was more traditional melody meets cosmic sounds. You could pick out a sort of melody with a certain rhythm. The instruments and mics must have had some different equipment with them so that it made each one sound differently during different parts of each song. It sounded kind of like the songs from Star Wars, but not as cool and more bazaar. It made you wonder if they had had a few too many drinks before getting up there. So when this was brought up I thought it was really funny because I thought that band was just some really strange group, but I guess they aren't the only ones. But just imagine Star Wars gone wrong, but also it was in Italian so it sounded even weirder.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Connoisseur of Birdsong

Okay, so I'll admit I was a little let down initially when I heard the "legendary song of the nightingale" in class. Emmy had shared her recording of the robin, and I thought that was very pretty, so when I heard we were going to listen to the song of the nightingale, the bird that English poets have showered with praise for so many years,... I guess I thought I was going to be blown away. My initial thought was, "Ugh, I think I liked the robin better," but then after awhile (and especially after hearing the second track, with the two male nightingales "serenading" each other) I realized what all those English poets must have been talking about. If I had to sit and listen to the robin's song for, say, three hours straight, I think I would eventually loose my mind and rip all my hair out. The robin's song is rather repetitive, with many of the sounds it makes being very similar to one another. Though initially not as "pretty," -as I put it before- the song of the nightingale is much more varied, with lots of different and interesting sounds and patterns. All in all, I guess on e could say that the nightingale has much more "range" and much more talent, as bird singers go. I can't help but wonder if this has anything to do with its capacity for memory being greater than that of the robin's -or perhaps it's repertoire is just more expansive, so the chances of repeating patterns too often are minimal.
After hearing the songs of the nightingales recorded from different areas (Greece and the Netherlands, for example), I did start to wonder if certain "dialects" or popular sounds could be found among birds of different regions. I know they're migratory birds, and so they could probably pick up different songs from birds in other areas, but I'm sure that there's no big "show and tell convention" to which all nightingales send ambassadors to share and collect new songs. Birdsong is learned, and so it does stand to reason that songs from the same species would vary. Perhaps this would be most clearly seen through species of different areas that do not migrate, or that migrate to different areas. For instance, do the starlings brought to America sing the same songs that the starlings in Europe do? Would a group of migratory birds pick up the songs of another species while they're on their vacation? Are there popular patterns of song in certain parts of the world? And, most importantly, does anyone know of a bird anthropologist to whom I could pose such questions?

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Cage is getting to me

It’s weird for me to think of birds having preferences. I’ve never had pets and I’ve really never been able to understand why people think that they can think. And yet, surprisingly to me, I really liked the idea of birds liking to sing. Not just singing for mating purposes, or for territorial purposes. Singing because they really like to sing. It makes me think that music is an even more primal part of us than I was thinking. I like the idea of music transcending thought and, even, species. I have an immediate bad reaction to things like the Manifesto for Silence because I love music and I think it is a natural, healthy, human thing. People have always understood music.
Why is it that we all enjoy listening to certain beats, that some sounds put together we can agree are beautiful?
Why is it that some music, without words can express emotions that we all basically agree on? What is it about sounds that are sad or happy?
Why could any untrained ear that is not totally tone-deaf tell that a minor chord is sad and a major chord is happy? I think we’re getting at something profound here, but I’m not sure what it is. Is it God?
Is it religion? Is it just, as Hartshorne proposes, aesthetics?
What does aesthetics mean? My first reaction is that this is a shallow idea.
I’ve heard that babies react to seeing a beautiful person. Babies can tell the difference between a beautiful and an ugly person. This distinction is not learned. I was and still I am a little unsettled by this information. Even babies are that shallow?
But maybe aesthetics goes deeper than that. Hartshorne says that having intelligent conversation is an aesthetic activity. I think I need to look that up. Aesthetics--Of or concerning the appreciation of beauty or good taste. I don’t think that helped. The question is: what in the world is beauty or good taste? And does this word extend to more things than just the physical, the visual?
If it does, then maybe I agree. Morality is not enough; I agree well enough with that.
Because morality, many times, turns into a list of things one is not permitted to do.
Do not sin.
But then again, there are sins of omission.
Which ones are sins? This is all starting to sound like the difference between music and silence. Which ones are sins? I think I’m starting to get to nothing—reading Cage for that long out loud must have unhinged something in my brain.
If aesthetics is our number one goal: staying interested, being pleased with life, loving the life we are living right now, not one in the near or far future; I think all of the rest would fall into place. If we love life, if we enjoy it at its deepest, at its simplest then we will act morally, in order to preserve this state.
Do not kill. That would deny us the aesthetic of life. Do not lie. That would deny us the aesthetic of truth. Do not have any other gods before the one God. That would deny us the aesthetic of divinity. Isn’t there an aesthetic in the divinity we choose to believe in? Should we be constantly questioning ourselves, asking if what we are doing has an aesthetic value? Is everything else purposeless? Or is purpose exactly what we want to stay away from? Should we be learning only if we find it beautiful, not for any purpose? Does that not bring us happiness but only economic security? Why live if you do not enjoy? But what should you enjoy? Aren’t there things that are not beautiful which are still interesting, which are still worth knowing about? Did I just reach nothing by coming full circle? But isn’t a circle beautiful?

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Please Look at Today's "Overgrown Path" blog.

There is a post relating to Cage and Satie on today's "On an Overgrown Path" blog (see Cagelinks). Please read it sometime before Friday's class.

Monday, October 6, 2008

Shallow Observations

I can’t say I’ve ever really heard anything like Cage’s “Lecture on Nothing.” The first part was kinda funny, in a “is he serious here?” kind of way, and I which I thought represented Cage at his best. In fact, I’m convinced half the reason Cage became so well known is his persona—if most people tried to say “I have nothing to say, and I am saying it”, they would simply be ignored, but when John Cage murmurs “I had nothing to say…and I am saying it” in his softly comforting voice, it almost sounds profound instead of like something from an especially zany Douglas Adams character.

Anyway, the first part was funny. The second part, not so much. Repeating the whole “we’re getting nowhere” thing was funny at first, then became a bit boring, then became maddening. I kept trying to guess when Cage would decide enough’s enough, but no, Cage just soldiered on. Now I know what brainwashed POWs go through. (Not literally, that’s just poetic license, but you get my point). I guess Cage was trying to say that “getting somewhere” isn’t always the most important thing, and I guess he made his point. Although I do think the “getting nowhere” idea became a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy.

I liked the ambient music—it added atmosphere without anyone (I think) really noticing it. I’m not sure what it was intended for, but it would make excellent furniture music.

Cage became famous for thinking outside the box. Which is a good thing, I’m all for it, we need original thinkers—but I would like to see something more. It seems like most of what he said could be translated to “I’m thinking outside the box here”—I mean, what does “I have nothing to say and am saying it” mean? And yeah, I know 4:33 was supposed to show the value of silence—but it also showed the value of self-promotion. It seems, at least to me, that Cage wasn’t above dressing self-promotion in high sounding words.

But then, I’m not Cage’s biggest fan, as you might have noticed, so maybe I’m being unfair. Maybe he was really the next Ralph Waldo Emerson. (Not to sound like I hate everything, but yeah, I don’t like Ralph Waldo Emerson much either. Or maybe it’s Thoreau. Or both. Now we’re getting nowhere).

And I really think that thirty sided dice are just overkill. I mean, how high do dice go? Fifty? I felt like I was rolling a bowling ball or something.


I really understand what is meant by ambient music now, after listening to that Deep Listening music during class. I thought it was enjoyable to listen to, but also found it rather easy to ignore when other things were going on. I could easily tell when it stopped while changing songs though, but that was the only point in time that it actually disrupted my attention from the class. For some reason, even though I wasn’t paying attention to it, I noticed and even missed the music for those few seconds, around 20, between songs (and at the beginning of each, which started off at an inaudible level). This makes sense though; I would imagine that it would be impossible to create something that’s supposed to enhance the environment but won’t be noticed when it’s gone. In other words, you can’t really complain about the music distracting you when it isn’t there. Yes, the music distracted me when it wasn’t there; I’ll admit it, but, just so you know, I’m not crazy; everyone else is.

Lecture on Nothing and The Themes

The lecture on nothing was both humorous and thought provoking to me. He would randomly put funny things into it splitting up the very thoughtful sections of his lecture. The parts where he repeats the same things over and over many times, were funny at first, then brought forth questions. When I heard it the first time, I thought about what he was saying literally. I thought about how he has a point about the fact that being where we are is not what is annoying, but it is when we want to be anywhere else but where we are that is annoying. The second and third time it repeated, I kind of laughed because i thought he was just making the point that he was in fact, going nowhere. The next time it was repeated I was getting irritated and wanting to sleep like he was suggesting. The rest of the times it was repeated, I at first listened to the music, then I just started just listening to it becoming in a sense a single entity. The lecture just became a part of the background music that was playing.
One of the themes in the handout caught my attention because of how I related it too today's class. It says boredom plus attention equal becoming interested. That was very true with the lecture on nothing. After a while, I got bored with the repetition, then once I paid attention to the background music and how that sounded with the lecture, I became more interested in the connection of the two sounds. One other theme that related was highest purpose equals no purpose. So, the lecture on nothing had a very high purpose because it did not really have a set purpose in and of itself. It's only purpose was what ever purpose the listeners seemed to get out of the lecture after it ended. On the same level, the last theme is goal is not to have a goal. Cage definitely accomplished this one in the lecture by purposely not having any set goal what so ever. Some things in life should also not have a goal. We should do it just because.

Life through the "Ears" of Cage

When you repeat a word over and over again, the word will begin to sound strange and meaningless. I thought the lecture on nothing was interesting because I felt as if Cage was inviting us to experience life through his “ears.” To him all sounds are fascinating. This is not the case for everyday people. We zone in to only what we want to hear and disregard all the rest. This lecture on nothing forced us to listen to Cage’s words and when he started to repeat them over and over again, the listener begins to feel a separation from the words and their meaning. This disassociation was what Cage was trying to convey. Words, too, can be sounds; but since we’re always intent on their meaning we never actually stop to appreciate their unique sounds.
Cage also made another statement that was very Zen. It focused on the now; on the presence of being. We are so busy going about doing all the things that we have to do that we never stop and just be, or stop to do what we really want to do for that matter. After the mantra-like repetitions, the message feels monotonous and it is hard to remain focused on the unchanging sentences. For me I did tend to become sleepy, but I resisted the urge to fall asleep because we were in class and being attentive is expected from a student. Cage says “If anybody is sleepy, let him go to sleep.” This follows his Zen idea of being. Sitting there quietly listening to the words is one state of being, but naturally if you are getting “sleepy,” don’t resist nature; simply enter into another state of being: sleep.
Cage was an interesting man in the respect that he liked to think out of the box. If everyone was thinking one way, why not think another? If everyone relies on emotion and feeling to determine decisions, why not rely on chance operation? I found it entertaining listening to Cage’s unconventional thoughts in the “Lecture on Nothing.” It gave me the opportunity to “hear” through Cage’s ears and experience something I take for granted every day, the sounds of words.

The Something in Nothing

Today's Lecture on Nothing began to make me think that, perhaps, in saying nothing, more can be said than by anyone attempting to say something. In content and/or in length, it is much more open to speak about nothing than to write about anything else. When talking with no particular goal in mind, the thoughts are fleeting and disjointed, continuing for minutes before the speaker or even the listener realizes that nothing has been said at the same time that many things have been mentioned.
We are told in essays, theses, and in life in general, our thoughts and arguments must be well-structured and focused. When writing a focused essay, suddenly we are restricted to one and only one line of thought, giving as much detail as possible in that direction of thinking. In other words, we are writing about something. Writing or talking without thought, freeform, letting ideas occur when they occur, is identified as rambling. Not talking about anything. Talking about nothing. And yet thoughts still occur, ideas are still conveyed, but they are not dwelled upon or investigated in further detail. Simply because thoughts are mentioned and left in the dust as other thoughts occur in rapid succession, it is thought that you are talking about nothing. But something is in the speech: many, unrestricted somethings. Though not extensively detailed, so many somethings occur, so many idle observations and simple ideas are noted, that it could not possibly be said that a rambling, particularly John Cage's Lecture on Nothing (which I see as rambling), contains nothing, nor that rambling is a negative thing. But now I'm rambling, and unlike Cage, I am trying to stay slightly focused.
I felt that this lecture proved that there is no such thing as Nothing, in the same way that Cage proved there is no such thing as silence. Perhaps there is no particular goal (though I think there is), and therefore the lecture does not travel from point A to point B, but rather circles around itself, getting nowhere. Even so, so many thoughts occur that it could not possibly by any stretch of the imagination contain nothing. Sure, many of the observations are meaningless or obvious, but they are still present, and while they are present, nothing cannot exist. When I say that I believe there is an actual goal in this lecture, I am saying that John Cage had this explicitly in mind. In the same way that he proved sound is always present and therefore silence cannot exist, he used his Lecture on Nothing to demonstrate that something is always there to be thought or observed, no matter how simplistic, and therefore, nothing cannot exist.

A Blog on Nothing

Well Cage is somewhat fascinating with his obsession with simplicity. It seemed to me that Cage just rambled in a stream of consciousness manner for nearly 20 pages. I'm not saying that a bad thing by any means. The first few pages are filled with Cage's delightful wit. Such interesting lines as "Its like an empty glass, nothing but wheat, is it corn?" I enjoyed all Cage's little witticisms in the first few pages.

The middle section where Cage just repeated himself for five pages was crazy. When it first repeated I laughed a little, but then it just kept repeating and repeating. I couldn't help but feel annoyed and I wished it would just switch to something else. After about two pages of repetitive words I tried to focus on the background music that was playing. That kept me entertained for awhile but the repetitiveness was almost over powering. I don't mind repetitive beats or lyrics in music, but just hearing the same words being read aloud over and over bugged me. I really didn't understand what Cage was getting at until we talked about how if you listened to the words as sounds instead of words its not annoying.

I also enjoyed that Cage told the story of the man standing on the hill again. Its a simple yet profound story. The man just stands on the hill just to stand there. No real reason, he is just doing it to be doing it. I think that is one of the best ways to live life at times. Just do whatever for no real reason. Spontaneousness is so much fun and keeps life interesting. The man's reply to the question of why he is standing on the hill, "I just stand" reminds me of a similar experience I had. A wise man once asked me, "Why is a rainbow pretty?" I couldn't think of any real answer and the wise man told me, "It just does".

Friday, October 3, 2008

Cage on Recordings

What Cage says about not caring for records really doesn't surprise me. It seems that he saw -or is it heard?- music or sound or noise as a natural phenomenon, an occurrence, if you will. It goes hand in hand with the Zen stuff. You have to be in the moment and experience the sound as it happens. Accordingly, if you aren't there when it happens, well too bad for you. The record serves as a sort of cheap replacement for those unlucky people not there to witness a sound being heard. It's just not the same;kind of like going to see your daughter's ballet recital and watching it on video tape because you missed it. There's a big difference in the experience. I remember my mom used to tape my ballet recitals and, well, I loved to watch them afterward because I never got to see myself during the performance, but no one else ever cared to go back and watch the tapes. After the performance, who wants to see a recording?
This attitude toward recordings reminds me of what Cage said about contemporary or modern music. It's only contemporary as it's happening and after that, it's not new anymore. If it's already happened, it's in the past, and if you missed it, again, too bad for you. Does this mean that you can never have a recording of truly contemporary music? I guess it's like having a recording of improvisation; it's like having it second hand. And it really takes the novelty out of improvisation. Think about it, if you listen to that CD of improvisation say, five times, you could know it by heart. Kind of defeats the purpose of improvisation, doesn't it? I wonder if Cage would have agreed that a low-fi world -that is a world in which sounds are detached from their sources- isn't the most desirable thing. I would appear that one gets more out of a listening experience if one is witness to the cause and effect that produces the sounds heard. You see the drummer raise the drumstick, you see it come down, and you see it hit the drum (or perhaps in Cage's world, the coffee can or grand piano, or trampoline or whatever) at the same time hearing the vibrations produced. The experience has been allowed to run its natural course and you have had -in the words of John Dewy- "an experience." You miss out on that with a recorded sound.