since the notes in this measure are alsonmuch slower: eighth note, quarter note,neighth note. The last measure in thisnline is in 3/16 time, again a difficultnshift.nFor that triplet in the second measure,nthe musician must feel that thisnmeasure is made up of four beats ofnone-sixteenth each. He must space thenquintuplet of five notes evenly overnthese four beats. To play the triplet, thenfourth beat of the quintuplet must benfelt as divided into three equal parts.nThe point is not that today’s musiciansncannot play this accurately, butnsimply that there is no way a humannbeing can do all this division and subdivisionnand still maintain a musical pulse.nWhen a musician is required to concentratenso hard on rhythmic mechanics,nthere is virtually no chance of hisnplaying with a natural sense of phrasing.nA more subtle form of overnotation isnto replace the intuitive and somewhatnflexible traditional time markings withntime values calibrated in seconds ornfractions of seconds. An example of thisnis “charisma,” a piece for clarinet andncello by Iannis Xenakis. Throughoutnthis piece, the tempo is indicated exclusivelynin seconds rather than in thentraditional beats-per-minute. The musiciannmust respond to the number indicatednnext to the note, which tells himnhow many seconds the note must benheld. The musician naturally respondsnto a note as if it were in the context of anparticular tempo. But if he must simultaneouslynrespond to a number, he isnforced to flip to a completely differentnpart of his brain, while still retainingnsome semblance of musicality. This isna form of mental torture, especially ifnthe process continues throughout thenpiece, as in this case.nIt is true that the composer hasnindicated “approximately 5 seconds”nor “approximately 1/2 second,” etc.nThis apparent flexibility, however, isndeceptive, for the musician still has tonconcentrate on counting seconds. Inneffect,, the composer has written anpiece with no actual tempo. If there isnno tempo there is no rhythm, andnwhere there is no rhythm there is nonmusic.nEXPOSING THEn”GAY” AGENDA!nIn this eye-opening study, California CongressmannWilliam Dannemeyer provides a comprehensivenoverview of the militant homosexual movement innthe U.S.—its historical evolution, its social andnpolitical aims, and the ground it has already won innthese areas. Dannemeyer explains how the “Gaynrights” activists have gained enormous power andninfluence in the courts, the political arena and thenmedia, and how organizations such as the A.C.L.U.,nN.O.W. and other sympathetic political actionngroups are attempting to establish “rights” nevernbefore known—such as the “right” of homosexualsnto marry, adopt children, teach young peoplenhow to perform homosexual acts as part of sexneducation programs, etc. He considers the implicationsnof the homosexual agenda and its potentiallyndisastrous results for society.n”Congressman Dannemeyer is fearless and unintimidated, and so is his book. Thisnwork deserves a wide audience.” — U.S. Congressman Henry Hyden”Few people understand the threat to the family and to the nation that unrepentantnhomosexuals pose as does Congressman Dannemeyer. This book is must readingnfor everyone who seeks the tmth.” — Cal Thomas, Los Angeles Times SyndicatenignatlCiS pRSSS . 15 Oakland Ave., Harrison, NY 10528nPlease rush me copies of Shadow in the Land ($9.95 ea). I enclose fullnpayment plus $2 per book for shipping and handling. 175nName AddressnCity. State Zipn46/CHRONiCLESnnnSeemingly at the other extremenfrom overnotation — and often foundnwithin the same piece — is so-calledn”aleatoric” music. The word “aleatoric”nderives from the Latin alea, angame of dice. In aleatoric music, particularnpassages, or even whole sections,nare improvised. A typical instructionnis to “Play A, B flat and E flatnfreely over and over again for twentynseconds.”nOddly enough, aleatoric directionsnare often constricting, not liberating.nThe performer feels limited by the factnthat he is still trying to play within thencomposer’s mindset. In addition, he isnoften required to improvise for a specifiednlength of time — in the illustratednexample, for 60 seconds. He mustnimprovise and count both at once.nWhen a musician is asked to play annaleatoric passage, he has neither thenfreedom to play according to his intuitions,nnor enough guidance from thencomposer to improvise as musically asnpossible. In effect, aleatoric music givesnthe musician a double message, since itnrequires him to improvise in a contextnthat by its nature is not improvisatory.nThis tends to drive musicians crazy.nThe spirit of a piece is always visiblenin the appearance of the score, and thenscores of many modern pieces resemblentangles of barbed wire. One looksnfor phrases without result. (In modernnmusic even rests do not necessarilynindicate true breathing points. Today,nsilence is often used not to balancensound, or for peacefulriess, but rathernfor shock value — equivalent to thenpause in an artillery barrage betweennthe impact of one shell and the next.)nSome scores use “graphic” notation.nGraphic notation consists of picturesnintended to cause musical reactionsnwhen the musician looks at them.nComposers who adopt such approximatengraphic indications of what theirnmusic is to sound like have leapednideologically into the fallacy that musicncan consist solely of a series of doodles,ntextures, outbursts, stops, and starts.nNever mind how artfully arranged, thisnamounts to adopting the attitude thatnyour score can be used by anyone, tonexpress any idea, in any context. Althoughnperformances of graphic musicnare quite rare, it represents a major andnperhaps growing part of contemporaryncomposers’ output.nModern music is suffering, then.n