Stockhausen – Kommunion/Intensitat (1972)

It is a fascinating divergence from the dead end construct that is 1970s Krautrock into German modern composers like Karlheinz Stockhausen, who, although he lived until 2007, was actively relevant beginning in the mid 50s but especially right through those same German 1970s.   Beyond mere Modern Classical, his music resonates for anyone who enjoys free jazz, noise, and electronic music, and still to this day there is no music more bewildering yet intensely interesting as that of Mr. Stockhausen.

Karlheinz seems to have had the potential to be a national hero in West Germany, back in a misguided age when governments of the first world actually supported the Arts.   There were few limits on his vision; characterized by large expensive theatrical orchestra pieces.    On vinyl his entire discography is exciting, challenging and much of it was surprisingly released on the great but somewhat conservative classical music label Deutsche Grammophon.  It fascinates me to imagine a classical music snob  back in 1963 sitting down to listen for the first time to the insanity of the electronic noise LP that was Gesang der Junglinge (translation : Voice of the Youth), and how the hell was ever released by DG is astounding.   I can see why he got his place on the cover of Sergent Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club (right between Lenny Bruce and WC Fields).

I have little context for capital “C” Classical music, having never formally studied music beyond Grade 7 band, but as a listener I can sum up his work in three stages:  His early compositions in the 1950s and 60s, revolved largely around perfecting an organized and structured chaos, also known as serialism.   He seemed to be able to create pieces that sounds like random tension but retain a strict organization, expertly commanding the full orchestra all the while adhering to the tradition of Bach/Beethoven/Mozart by keeping the piano at front and centre.  Then his mid period work further subverts tradition and will prominently feature either some philosophy, concept  or technological gimmick, for instance showcase spinning speakers or three orchestras playing at once (Gruppen c1957).   These records range from brilliant to okay and are sometimes trapped inside the limitations of their technological feature.   Meanwhile, his late seventies period abandons all reason and can be defined by a sort of Wagner-level delusion involving cosmic communication, eternal oneness and his own divine vibration (most exemplified by his 1977 record Sirius where he not only appears naked on the front cover but performs an amazing and confusing electronic space opera; later he claimed to be  educated on the planet Sirius, and planned to return there)*.   Curiously he became the scholarly European version of Sun Ra, equally they both subverted their form’s tradition towards their own cosmic oblivion and with a bewildering extensive discography to match.

Throughout these periods Stockhausen is personally most interesting when he ventures beyond being a mere composer/conductor for his works, when he actively gets involved in the performance.   From time to time he steps into the noise making and/or manipulates from his command desk the orchestra’s sound through a series of amplifiers and filters, and those records are awesome.

The record Kommunion/Intensitat: from the seven days (1972) is an interesting example of his participation.  Kommunion might be the most harsh recording of his legacy.  It is sixteen minutes and 25 seconds of a bone rattling ensemble where 9 players (viola, bass, piano, flute, etc) were instructed to play in the rhythm of a fellow player’s limbs.  But not just the visible movement of their arms and feet but to the rhythms of their cells and atoms, which causes the sound to cascade into chain reactions of symphonic chaos.   The B-Side is Intensitat is where a similar sized ensemble were instructed to play “warm sounds” in the piece while Stockhausen unexpectedly began to hammer nails into a piece of wood and intermittently blew a siren and whistle.  Halfway through is perhaps the most free jazz wailing sax sound ever released on a classical music record, followed by some low trumpet and horn alarm simulation that fades into sleep.

Apparently these “seven days” were an imposed lost week of crazy inspiration.  The inspiration was to sonically recreate the feelings/madness he went through when, during a trip to America his wife seized her opportunity to leave him, and the result was Stockhausen either finding himself or losing himself (you decide).    Mega egos melt in real time as we listen to the great composer fumble through his attempt to organize classical tradition and completely break it down over the side of an LP.

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*and if you need more proof of how “out there” (for better or worse) Stockhausen was: he got into a bit of trouble when he called the 9-11 World trade Center attacks: “the biggest work of art there has ever been.”  He shortly thereafter changed his name and began to re-explain these statements as the art of Lucifer.