4'33"

Scheduled Item: John Cage "The wonderful widow of eighteen springs". Unperformed. Now I wonder why not?

Item: John Cage "4 minutes 33 seconds"

Compere Rex Holliday "I don't think it's exaggeration to say that this next piece is one of the most important compositions of the century. Would you all move forward please, so that the people at the back can get in".

The pianist walks across the stage and sits at the piano.

The audience become si lent. A coin drops from a pocket to the floor. A girl rustles a paper bag. The pianist makes no move, still silent.

The girl is embarrassed, silently. Behind me someone strikes a match. I want a smoke, but not wanting to participate I can't bring myself to strike a match. A baby whimpers. I scratch my nose. I borrow a lighted cigarette to light my own. The baby whimpers again. This time people giggle. There is a rustling of bottoms and a door opens. Whirring of my pen across the paper. Borrowed from romantic gentleman. How many people are wondering when it will end, this silence, and whether they will dap? Rustling of paper. A wait for the next noise. It is the pianist's stool. He is standing up. People are clapping.

Item: Clapping. 0 minutes 11 seconds.

Rex: "That's really cool".

Item: "Tape Piece" by Ross Harris

A plink plink splutter plunk piece. And a whizz splat tarantara piece. Noiseless laughter. Buzz whimper pop pop. They're crossing their legs and leaning forward earnestly. Not reacting, or trying not to 'react' with their bodies to this ZAP music. Zap me so fah la te doe to infinity music. Tooting chortling vibraphonv music. Clang ! Honk I Tweet! OOOOOOoooOOOoooOOOooO !! EEEEEeeeeEEEEEE ! Zow ! Pow ! Sproing !Zonk !! Flash ! pretty good stuff we have here brother !"

— the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers Very loud. Power, power, powerful noise. People becoming excited. They've just read "Liberules". It's not easy to shock a Liberal. The air seems still but a smoke ring shatters. Who'd blow a smoke ring? Plink tink think watery music, fizz spit very music. Volume up then drop. That baby is due for another cry. It cries, I observe, he cries. So predictable against the music. Whimpers 'ooh be, ooh ba'. Music louder—I instinctively write 'music' not 'noise'.

"Noise : A stench in the ear. Undomesticated music. The chief product and authenticating sign of civilization. "—from Ambrose Bierce, "The Devil's Dictionary" Foghorns even. So loud, fina'ly the speakers are vibrating, begging. Relief with cooling, slowly silencing. Now the loudest sound is a car outside, Prolonged clapping.