Home 1. Introduction 2. Markers 3. Archive 4. Audible Markers 5. Visible Markers 6. Notational Markers 7. Conclusion
3.1. Integrated Silences 3.2. Inherent Silences 3.3. Silent Discourse 3.4. Meta-Silences 3.5. Silencings
Composed in 1919, the third Pittoresk by composer Erwin Schulhoff is dedicated to Georg Grosz, a key figure of Dada. This miniature is titled In futurum and consists of rests and text instructions. Musicologist Esteban Buch argues in his article “Seeing the Sound of Silence in the Great War” that, as in the Dada movement itself, the brutal legacy of war comes through in this artwork (Buch, 2018, p. 104).
As with George Antheil’s Ballet mécanique, In futurum overwhelms the pianist with rests, using dozens where one would suffice. Antheil’s use of rests is logical, if surprising. But Schulhoff’s deliberately florid, baroque notation produces a confused reaction in the performer, who has to struggle to express the rhythmic complexity—or choose not to.
Schulhoff’s piece arguably challenges the very notion of boundary. Rather, it is the negative of a non-silent piece of music, where time itself—historical and musical time—is pictured through its own negative, Zeitmaß-Zeitlos. In this sense, it is very much like a photographic negative. (Buch, 2018, p. 109)
Buch’s point is excellent: rather than being specifically about silence, the piece is the negative of a musical composition. Rests are substituted for notes, and smiley faces are substituted for rubato and other performative interpretations.
Figure 8: Erwin Schulhoff, In futurum (Verlag Jatho: 1932)
Schulhoff’s score is detailed—perhaps too detailed; it is fussy and confusing. Each rest is descriptive of a pulse or a beat, but attempting to interpret the rests “accurately” can slow down the performance, for example, at the end of the sixth line, where there are just too many brief rests in a row. But is accuracy even a goal to be achieved? Perhaps not. After all, the score is marked “timeless,” and the meter indication is 3/5 for the right hand and an equally absurd 7/10 for the left hand, even though most of the bars are really in 4/4.
Potential markers (a smiling silent performer? a frowning one?) are also created by the notation. Hence, I tend to give it a Dadaist theatrical flair in concert, complete with costume and exaggerated gestures. These markers become descriptive of the silences’ absurdity.