Divorcing ritual from theistic religions & cults
Ritual was of profound comfort while growing up in a Jewish family. As I adapted into an atheistic lifestyle, it became necessary to reintegrate rituals into my life, but in a manner that was native to my authentic self, free from the paternalistic doctrine, political affiliation masquerading its way into faith, and toxic superstition.
As my residency at Mount Auburn Cemetery enters its winter twilight, it has become clear that my work is only partially about designing the new instrument and writing music for it. It is about building rituals that can be used at the cemetery and anywhere else and useful for anyone. Rituals and other happenings centered around the mortal experience: this has become the function of my current body of work.
At the end of this article, I offer you a listening and observation ritual that you can complete in any cemetery, burial ground, graveyard, or even a forest. Bigger is better, as getting lost is ideal.
Learnings from Mount Auburn’s first musical death awareness meditation
Mount Auburn’s first musical death awareness meditation event was focused around climate grief. As our planet enters the Anthropocene Epoch, we must examine our attachments and lean on the role that community serves within our race. In composing the meditation, I allowed argent & sable to dictate the flow of sound within the composition, and Madelaine Ripley’s oration to dictate the density and volume of these sounds.
One artifact I didn’t anticipate was the interaction of the low, quiet hum of the crematorium that shares a wall with the main hall of Bigelow Chapel, one of the most beautiful gothic chapels this side of the Mississippi. These vibrations interacted well with argent & sable and cello, and I believe became integral to the experience, especially for those laying on the floor.
Beyond that wooden door someone’s lifelong vessel was becoming powdered carbon, and here we were, neurons aflame, being present and listening as a community.
The meditation was around 22 minutes, and was not recorded. Some day, it may be.
Of course, each attendee had a contrasting experience. Some included:
A profound sense of peace that lasted for several days
A paradoxical joy and lightness that came from “breathing through” the realization of one’s own eventual death
“Detox:” Several hours of easy detachment, followed hours later by a significant cathartic release of other griefs happening in one’s life
Several days of alternating lightness and depression, followed by a long period of “calm”
Nothing, it was a time and then they went on with their evening
One big learning point was finding alternative ways to amplify speech for those with hearing and/or audio processing disabilities. Two audience members had a difficult time processing the words of the oration – Bigelow Chapel is highly reflective; the reverb was unruly. Next time, a headphone mix should be provided for those who request it.
Another learning point was just how crucial Ripley’s involvement was. They were able to provide aftercare and answer meditators’ questions with the wisdom and openness only a grief companion and death doula could provide.
Learnings from argent & sable’s first performance
On September 23 & 24, Ira Klein, Mary Bichner, and I put on a show to celebrate Mount Auburn’s 192nd Consecration Day in collaboration with the Friends of Mount Auburn. This was argent & sable’s debut appearance - no one outside my basement and random Instagram stories had heard it yet. I sought to learn how the instrument was heard by others.
Julie-Anne Whitney, a dramaturg and playwright who is also the public events producer at the cemetery and my organ project manager, found Luke Damrosch of Efferent Productions who recorded the debut performance in Story Chapel.
Aboriginal Sensible Muchness was written for argent & sable using both of its functionalities – as an electroacoustic instrument and as a percussion instrument. Glockenspiel, bass drum, cymbal, and argent & sable percussion was performed by Austin Birdy, and I played electroacoustic cello, using my Sovtek MIG-100 (made with recycled WWII aircraft parts, since we do love to recycle), the Boss RC-50 loop station, and the MXR CarbonCopy delay.
Like death, argent & sable is not a polite, considerate instrument. It is cacophonous, unapologetic, and very ethereally beautiful. It is imbued with an intense energy from its former life as a pipe organ, and I believe, from being directly above and adjacent to two crematoriums over the last century and a half or so. Cleaning the dust off these pipes continues to be a somehow unending, arduous process. Just when I think I’ve cleaned it and coated it entirely, more dust is found in a crack or crevice. History refuses to be buried.
After the performance, I surveyed the audience and friends on what they thought the instrument sounds like. A few notable responses:
One audience member said it sounds like whales. Another agreed, saying it sounded like wails. They meant totally different things! English is a funny language
“Broken. It broke my heart”
Like hearing birds through a thick-paned window
Like nothing they’d ever heard before. Very spooky
Like Merzbow. (I do love me some Japanese harsh noise)
What does it sound like to you?
Argent & sable has become an inkblot. We hear what we wish to hear.
I want to know what you think it sounds like! Please leave a comment to tell me what you think.
Aboriginal Sensible Muchness - A Ritual
The name of the piece came from a William James quote from his Narrative of Habit. I encourage you to read this work to enrich your experience of my piece and of its listening ritual.
In the spirit of ontological wonder-sickness, here is a ritual for you to grow present with your understanding of impermanence. You can do this alone or with a trusted companion:
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