Environmental & Architectural
Phenomenology Newsletter
The Stones
R. Murray Schafer
R. Murray Schafer is a Canadian composer and author of the seminal The Tuning of The World (1977), a history of sound in the environment. One of his major professional interests is listening education. His essay describes “an exercise I do quite regularly with classes to train them in observation. It works well in countries with languages I don’t know because I don’t have to use many words to set it up or run it. In fact, the fewer words the better.” Address: R.R.2, Indian River, Ontario K0L 2B0. © 2004 R. Murray Schafer, including drawings.
The man arrived at the airport as arranged, and they were glad to see him standing on two feet, as they had heard he had not been well lately. After all, he was getting on in years and had been known to cancel engagements unpredictably. He seemed happy, and that made everyone happy.
They put his bag into the trunk of the car and drove quickly to the class. Once or twice he mentioned that he didn’t like fast car rides and the driver reduced the speed momentarily. After all, they had been traveling at over 120 kilometers per hour. It was not that the driver was careless. Sometimes other cars, traveling at even greater speeds, would pass, especially when the man was explaining that traveling at high velocity made it difficult for him to appreciate the beautiful and, for him, exotic scenery through which they were passing. But the class was waiting and they promised him that on his return to the airport there would be more time to relax and enjoy the view.
They had asked him what equipment he needed for the seminar. It was known that he usually worked without special equipment or resources. Usually an empty room was all he asked for, one with movable chairs. He had also requested that the number of participants be kept to forty, which had caused the organizers some concern since they had larger expectations. But they had respected his wishes, hoping that perhaps on a future occasion he might be persuaded to return for a longer period so that more people might become acquainted with his ideas.
In any case they intended to video the seminar and he had had no objection to that. He had a certain reputation that seemed to expand with the distance he traveled from his own home and country, where he was not taken very seriously. In this strange land, far from home, everyone was waiting with expectancy, particularly since, when they had asked him how the participants might prepare themselves for the seminar, he had told them merely to bring a stone to class, one that they particularly liked, or one that in outline, density or texture they thought resembled themselves.
At last the car arrived in the city and passed through streets lined with tall buildings, coming to a stop before a very imposing building that had recently been renovated for cultural activities. They went up a flight of wide steps and down a corridor to a large room where many people were milling about talking, casting sideways glances at the man who had asked them to bring stones to school. They entered the room. Everyone sat down and took out their notebooks. The man was introduced.
“The chairs are in our way,” he said. “I’d like to have them moved out.” Everyone stood up and turned to pick up the chair they had been sitting on. “Just a moment,” said the man. “I hadn’t finished my sentence. I’d like to have them moved out of the room without making a single sound. Let’s begin again and try that.” Everyone sat down and then rose as quietly as possible. “But there is still too much sound,” said the man with a smile. “Perhaps the last person out of the room will be the quietest. Take lots of time and try again.”
Slowly, very slowly, the chairs rose and were carried out of the room. Everyone returned on tiptoe. The man motioned for them to sit down on the floor in a circle.
“A circle is a special figure. Everyone is united in a circle. No part of it is dominant. It is a symbol of wholeness, of perfection. At the same time it divides what is within from what is without. The interior is precious, sacred, the exterior is profane, confusing. For the next hour let’s imagine that our circle is sacred.
“A sacred space needs ritual objects. That’s why I asked you to bring the stones. Take your stone in your hands and look at it. Many colors, changing with the light and shadow.
“Close your eyes and feel the stone. Turn it in your hand feeling the textures and shapes. Gradually your hands are warming the stone, releasing its energy. Feel the energy of the stone entering your hands and traveling up your arms. The stone energy is entering your body. At the same time your body energy is entering the stone. You are beginning to have a silent dialogue with the stone.
“Press the stone to your heart. Let it feel your heartbeat. Can you feel the heartbeat of the stone?
“Now let the stone touch your forehead. Try to enter the mind of the stone and understand its thoughts. Have you any special thoughts for the stone? Let your brain waves connect in a moment of meditation…”
The man spoke these words very calmly and slowly with long pauses. Now he was silent for some minutes as the class meditated with the stones. Then he spoke again.
“Now take your stone and without opening your eyes pass it to the person on your right.”
After a few moments he asked the class to pass the stones, again to the person on the right. The class continued to pass the stones, taking time to get acquainted with each new stone as it was presented. Then the man told the class to open their eyes, to place all the stones in a circle and contemplate the arrangement. After a few moments the man asked them to close their eyes again, saying that whoever he touched on the shoulder should go to the center alone and arrange the stones in a new pattern.
He touched someone and they rearranged the stones. The class was asked to open their eyes and regard the new arrangement for a few moments, then close their eyes again while another person rearranged the stones. One heard the sounds of the stones on the marble floor while they were being rearranged.
“Let the stones speak as you rearrange them,” said the man. “Let them speak or whisper or cry or sing.” Various people rearranged the stones in different patterns while the class listened, eyes closed, then opened their eyes to admire the new pattern. Perhaps everyone in the room was given a chance to rearrange the stones. There was no way of telling, since the stones were moved in darkness. One listened to the concert of their movement then regarded the new arrangement in silence. All this was done without haste so that for the best part of an hour the class sat, alternately listening and looking. Perhaps the man had a little bell to tell people when to open and when to close their eyes.
Finally the man asked everyone to stand and go to the center to recover their stone. When this had been done he asked them to silently thank the stones for the beautiful experience they had provided.
There was a garden outside the room. The man asked everyone to take their stone out into the garden and to find a place there for it to remain, a special place where the stone might like to be, then return to the circle for a final discussion.
When they returned the man talked to them about simplicity. He discussed the Japanese Tea Ceremony, which he had once experienced in Kyoto where the simple drinking of a cup of tea had occupied an entire afternoon.
He spoke to them also of the ceremony called “Listen to the Incense” (Ko wo kiku) in which bowls with different incenses are passed from one person to another, each bowl being given a distinctive title, either a moment in Japanese history or a suggestion of a scene, so that as one lifted the bowl one imagined the event, a kind of synaesthesia combining smell, image and sound, for one also listened to the incense burning by holding it close to the left ear before passing it on. This ceremony too was conducted slowly and quietly.
Perhaps the greatest inspiration of Japanese culture was to have learned to create something out of nothing, or out of very little. Could we learn something from that? Couldn’t we also invent serene ceremonies out of the free and simple objects that lay about us waiting to communicate their beauty and originality?
It was time to return to the airport. In fact it was rather late and the car was waiting. As they sped along the highway, the organizers wondered how much of the event would be visible or interesting on the videotape. The scenery flashed past in a blur. The airport was filled with people in a hurry. The man said goodbye, promised to come back another time, and slowly walked down the passage to the waiting plane.
|
|