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[man] Are you guys going to stop ever,
or are you gonna keep dancing forever?
I'm gonna keep dancing forever, I mean.
Well, at least 'til I remember where I put my car.
electronic music
[narrator] This is the story of women
who hear music in their heads,
of radical sounds where there was once silence...
...of dreams enabled by technology.
Technology is a tremendous liberator.
It blows up power structures.
Women are naturally drawn to electronic music.
You didn't have to be accepted
by any of the male-dominated resources--
the radio stations, the record companies,
the concert hall venues,
the funding organizations.
You could make something with electronics,
and you can present music directly to your audience,
and that gives you tremendous freedom.
But somehow women get forgotten from that history.
The history of women has been a story of silence,
of breaking through the silence...
We shall not be robbed any longer.
...with beautiful noise.
This is April 30, 1974,
and we're all here at the Bonino Gallery.
[woman] What's your name?
Suzanne Ciani, C-I-A-N-I. [laughs]
And I'm going to give...
I'm going to play a concert on the Buchla synthesizer.
These instruments are designed by a manufacturer
in Berkeley, California.
They're probably the most sophisticated system
that's available.
And I think they're sensual.
- May I have a cigarette? - They're what?
Sensual. Thank you.
With this new technology, you could do it all yourself.
So you were the composer. you were the performer,
you were the sole arbiter of your creation.
electronic classical music
And the machine was alive.
It was warm.
It communicated.
It was sensitive.
You know, you could move something
just the littlest bit
and then a whole new expression would open up.
One of the most amazing experiences you can have
is to be in the middle of this sound that's moving.
The thing that I've always loved about electronic music
is that it's in motion.
It's malleable.
It's a much more open set of dynamics.
In electronics, you're not dealing so literally with
the architecture of nodes or harmonies,
those building blocks
in classical music.
You're dealing in energy.
At the dawn of the 20th century,
the world was no longer silent.
The spirit of modern life was a banshee
screeching into the future.
Futurists wanted to make art out of the new energy,
speed, and noise.
How would we begin to do such a thing,
to capture the sound of this electrified world?
electronic classical music
I do very much what a diver would do.
I just have to take a chance, and here I am.
See? A hair breadth off and I'm already on a different note.
Dr. Ray, now we'll have fun.
- [chuckles] - Now we'll have fun.
Now, here, hold your hand over this.
[high-pitched whining]
[whining continues]
It is a fallacy to think that the instrument
is easy to play.
You know, it is much more difficult than the violin.
I was a concert violinist before I played this.
classical music
As young girls, both my sister and I gave joint concerts
playing the violin and the piano all over Russia,
then all over Europe.
We played our way to America.
I met Professor Theremin when he came to America
to demonstrate the instrument.
I was fascinated by
the aesthetic part of the instrument,
the beauty, and the idea of playing completely
without touching anything.
I also loved the sound of it.
Professor Theremin became a great friend and admirer,
and we really worked on
this particular instrument together.
I, making my musical wishes known to him,
and he, being the genius that he was,
made it work.
And we played the Nardini Concerto.
We played the whole Cรฉsar Franck Sonata,
which was at that time a rather great surprise
because the Theremin was associated
with just little melodies.
Suddenly you get someone who's a total virtuoso
and able to make it sound in a way
that it had never sounded before.
"You cannot play air with hammers," Clara would say.
You have to play with butterfly wings.
[Clara] I was a freak at the time.
The public had to be won over into thinking of it
as a real artistic medium played by an artist,
and I won them over.
A young composer said to me,
"It's listening to this singing of a soul."
Now isn't that a lovely thought,
singing of a soul?
[electronic buzzing and beeping]
The first stage in the realization of a piece of music
is to construct the individual sounds
that we're going to use.
To do this, we can, if we like, go to these
sound generators here, electronic generators,
and we listen to three of the basic electronic sounds.
First, is the simplest sound of all,
which is a sine wave.
[high-pitched buzzing]
You can see on the oscilloscope,
it has a very simple form and has a very pure sound.
Now listen to the same note but with a different quality.
This is a square wave.
It's very square on the picture
and perhaps rather harsh to listen to.
This is because it has a lot of high harmonics,
and that's what gives the corners on the picture.
Now a more complex sound still is white noise.
[static]
We don't always go to electronic sound generators
for our basic sources of sound.
If the sound we want exists already in real life, say,
we can go and record it.
[ding]
But those basic sounds aren't really interesting
in their raw state like this.
To make them of value for a musical piece,
we have to shape them and mold them.
We can get the lower sounds we need from the rhythm
by slowing down the tape.
[low clank]
And the higher sounds by speeding up the tape.
[high-pitched clank]
And then all we have to do is cut the notes
to the right length.
We can join them together on a loop and listen to them.
[pulsating rhythm sounding]
And then with the higher notes of the rhythm, again,
we join them together in a loop
and play it in synchronization
with the first tape.
[rhythm continues beating]
[high-pitched beating]
And over this we can play...
[high-pitched rattling]
ethereal music
[distorted notes playing]
Using all of these, we can build up any sound
we can possibly imagine.
We spend quite a lot of time trying to invent new sound,
sounds that don't exist already,
sounds that can't be produced by musical instruments.
[ethereal sounds]
The radio, the radio, the radio was
the most important thing in my life.
You know, there weren't books.
The radio was my education.
I was accepted by the Oxford and the Cambridge
to read mathematics, which is quite something
for a working-class girl in the '50s,
where only one in 10 were female.
Delia was a brilliant mathematician.
She was fascinated by the inner composition of a sound.
Then she could reach into it and decide
what part of that sound she wanted to use.
I was in Coventry during the Blitz.
That was such an influence on me.
It's come to me
that my love for abstract sounds were
sounds of the air raid siren. - [siren wailing]
Because that's the sound you hear and you don't know
the source of it as a young child.
It's an abstract sound, and it's meaningful,
and then the all clear.
[siren continues wailing]
[explosions in distance]
[narrator] World War II emptied cities of men.
And in the absence of men, women worked.
Freedom was more than a feeling.
[man] There isn't much glamour about this independence.
Women at work are getting to look and behave
more like men.
It's not very attractive.
disorienting electronic music
Welcome to Tower Folly, this lonely host house
on the North Downs of Kent.
Well, as far as I know, this house isn't haunted,
and there isn't a mad scientist in sight.
This is in fact a music factory where they can literally
make music out of electronic sounds,
and the woman who makes it has just been awarded a grant
by the Gulbenkian Foundation to help her research.
She's here at her control box.
Miss Daphne Oram.
How did you get involved in this kind of work?
It dates back really to 1944, I think,
when I read a book
which prophesied that composers in the future
would compose directly into sound instead of
using orchestral instruments, you see.
And well, since then, I've been working in BBC Studios,
and so I've got some little grasp
of this sort of equipment.
orchestral music
I was trained as a musician,
and the two sort of click together, you see.
Daphne was a very gifted pianist,
and she had secured a place for herself
at the Royal Academy of Music, which she turned down
because she was also very interested in technology
and wanted to work at the BBC.
ethereal music
[Daphne] I was asked to do some incidental music
for a television play,
and I did this by getting together,
in the middle of the night,
all the tape recorders that I could find in studios,
collecting them together in one studio,
and working until they had to be put back the next morning,
sleeping a little bit and then coming back in
to do my normal chamber music work.
cheerful orchestral music
So then it grew from that.
I was asked to help start the radiophonic workshop.
[man] Listen.
disorienting music
Without Daphne, it would never have started
because BBC did not want an electronic music studio.
We were just using anything we could grab hold of.
We had basic laboratory equipment
and a pair of tape machines that had been liberated
at the end of the war.
Playwrights were writing in a surreal kind of style,
which was a legacy of the war.
The style required a different kind of sound.
[man's voice echoing] Bird or angel?
[man] This program is an experiment.
We think it's worth broadcasting
as a perfectly serious first attempt
to find out whether we can convey a new kind
of emotional and intellectual experience
by means of what we call radiophonic effects.
surreal music
[man] Round and round
like a wind from the ground.
Beats and beats,
it whirls and beats.
[man] It's a sort of modern magic.
Some musicians believe that it can become an art form
complete in itself.
Others are skeptical.
In fact, we've decided not to use
the word "music" at all.
[man] This is bad.
[narrator] What began as a research trip
to the Brussels World Fair became a fateful pilgrimage.
There, Daphne hears an electronic composition
fed through 350 speakers
with synchronized projections.
dark, disorienting music
Electronic music was more than just incidental.
It was the sound of the future.
The radiophonic workshop was concentrating
somewhat on the drama side,
and I wanted to concentrate on the music side.
So I set up my own studio.
She was a woman, in the 1950s,
set up her own
independent electronic music studio.
It's extraordinarily brave.
[man] Now Miss Oram, how do you go about manufacturing
this sort of sound?
Well, let me introduce
this little electronic generator here,
which produces a sound like this.
[fluctuating tone sounding]
Now I made a little loop of tape here
with varying pure tones on it.
[high-pitched tones]
Now if I then put a little artificial reverberation
on that, I think you'll see
we're just beginning to get somewhere
with the music.
[electronic tones shimmering]
[man] So now what are you going with this
three-and-a-half thousand pounds that you've got?
Well, this is very exciting to me
because I have ideas for a piece of electronic equipment,
not quite like this. In this case, the composer,
we're going to be able to feed in drawn symbols
straight into the equipment, and out will come the sounds.
[sound reverberating]
I have a new technique completely,
one that I've evolved over the years,
which I call oramics.
And that is using graphic representation of sound.
There seems to be no real notation system
in electronic music.
I wanted a system where I could graphically represent
what I wanted and give that representation,
that musical score, in fact, to a machine
and have from it the sound.
This idea of drawn sound
is a sound that comes from nowhere.
It's a sound that is synthesized from nothing,
but she's not the ghost in the machine.
Her hands are all over it.
The composer wants to project something of himself.
The great works of art are a projection of a human mind.
And unless this machine can accept and produce exactly
this projection of the composer's thought,
then I think it's just a machine and I can quite see
why people can get frightened at the thought.
Pierre Schaeffer said, "In between noise and music,
"there is the hand of the musician."
[speaking French]
Stop.
[narrator] Eliane dreamt of an unreal, impalpable music
appearing and fading away like clouds
in the blue summer sky.
[man] Greenwich Village is mostly a state of mind.
The Village in the '50s had to be
the most exciting, wonderful place in the world.
It was unbelievable, like Paris in the 20s.
We were married in '48, and Louis' cousin brought us
a tape recorder for a wedding present.
I think we were the only ones in the country
with that machine.
We had all the artists in The Village coming to us
for recording work.
surreal music
I remember my first birth in water.
I sway and float,
stand on boneless toes,
listening for distant sounds,
sounds beyond the reach of human ears.
We started a recording studio.
We built almost all the equipment ourselves
because there wasn't any to buy.
[man] The great American boy is hard at work
inventing, creating, building something.
And the desire to build and create new things
is the energy that develops
industrious, dependable
citizens of tomorrow.
It was exciting because you were
building these things and you're experimenting
with the electronic media.
[electronic sounds]
[narrator] Louis made sounds by overloading circuit boards,
which Bebe then processed and manipulated to create music.
To the writer, Anais Nin,
it sounded like a molecule
had stubbed its toe.
And we started working on avant-garde films.
That's what this was all about,
was the avant-garde.
The sense of wonder and awe,
the beauty coming from the circuits.
I mean, we would just sit back and let them take over.
These circuits are not instruments.
They are performers.
[Bebe] We would record
everything that came out of the circuits.
I spent hours and hours and hours
listening to all that stuff. - [Louis] Oh, yeah.
Well, later you went through...
- [laughs] Days. - Miles of tape.
[Bebe] Yeah.
[Louis] Incredible, and she could hold it in her memory.
- But also-- - She could remember where to
go for a certain feeling in the sound.
Bebe had a formal musical education.
She made most of the compositional decisions
while Louis dealt more with the technical side of things.
The Barrons' greatest achievement
was with the music for Forbidden Planet.
It was the first movie with an all-electronic score.
The pride and joy of that period was in coming up
with the music for the monster.
We were just beside ourselves.
Suddenly, this circuit started generating
the most complex sounds.
The dying of Morbius
was the actual dying of the circuits.
[high-pitching whirring sounds]
We would have a credit that said,
"Electronic music by Louis and Bebe Barron."
But a memo was circulated among the executives.
How would the American Federation of Musicians
respond to a credit that says electronic music?
The Musicians' Union would not
allow the soundtrack to be considered music.
They were afraid that someday their jobs would be replaced
by machines, and so they would have none of it.
That's why it's credited as "electronic tonalities."
[Bebe] It was so awful.
We were barely acknowledged as composers.
Prior to Dr. Who,
there's a lot of distaste of electronic music.
Delia's music is absolutely crucial
in changing that perception.
[Delia] It's like a lighthouse, isn't it?
I wonder what it's like up there in a thunderstorm.
Think of being up there on a starry night,
with all the world at your feet.
You get people who are writing in
saying, "What is this? How is it made?"
Imagine what life must have been like
before samplers, before synthesizers,
before sequencers?
It took her 40 days to make the "Doctor Who" theme.
40 days.
She would sample a green lamp shade,
speed it up, reverse it,
and just completely changed the nature of the sound.
This was a documentary program
about the Tuareg tribe,
the Tuareg tribe of nomads
in the Sahara desert.
In the piece, I tried to convey
the distance of the horizon
and the heat haze,
the strand of camels wandering across the desert.
That, in fact, was made from square waves
put through every filter I could possibly find.
There must be a God.
ethereal music
Oh, yes.
Delia Derbyshire created
some very, very beautiful things and some things that had
a kind of a very strange and unearthly quality
that couldn't quite be got, I think, by normal musical means
and yet didn't sound as if
they were electronically manufactured.
Some of it was worked out mathematically.
I've tried to get into it
a feeling of simplicity
and loneliness,
of a man on a moon.
[Neil Armstrong] That's one small step for man...
one giant leap for mankind.
She created a kind of pathway
for electronic music.
I did all sorts of things I was told I couldn't do.
I think I've always been a very independent thinker.
[narrator] While the work of women
like Delia and Daphne
came from the deafening sounds of wartime,
it was the chilling silence of the Cold War
that took others to the limits of listening.
The bomb scare psychology that was inculcated,
that had a big effect on the artists
that were emerging at that time.
guitar rock music
Everybody was pushing for opening things up,
a kind of way through all the terrible stuff
that was going on in the world at the time.
So there was a lot of political motivation
behind what we were doing.
[crowd] Peace now! Peace now! Peace now!
The effect was to say,
okay, we've got to break through
anything that was rigid, anything that was limiting,
and try to move things forward.
[electronic warp sounds]
The music scene was evolving
into an area that was
very fresh and exciting.
First time I heard live electronic music
was early '60s.
Pauline was on stage with an accordion.
The room was exploding with a sound that was ear-splitting.
I had never experienced that kind of volume before.
I can't remember when I wasn't
interested in sounds.
I remember particularly things like riding in the car
with my parents for instance, maybe in the backseat,
listening to the sound of the motor
and listening to the sound of my parents' voices
being modulated by the motor.
[indistinct modulated voices speaking]
Listening to my father turn his shortwave radio,
listening to the whistles and pops and static.
I mean, I was always fascinated with
the in-between sounds in the stations,
just tuning in between.
I loved that.
[car radio changing stations]
I credit my mother.
For my birthday,
she sent me a tape recorder,
and that was a very significant event
because nobody had tape recorders, you know.
It was in the 50s.
[marching style music playing]
I began to record--
do field recording from my apartment window.
[tram bell dinging]
And then in 1959 got started making
a tape piece called Time Perspectives.
The tape recorder that I had, it was possible to record
by hand winding the tape in record mode.
That gave me a variable speed so I could do
some interesting things with that.
And I used the bathtub for reverberation
and cardboard tubes as filters.
I'd put microphones in the tube and then record sounds
through the tube.
Eventually, I met up with a group of people
who were interested in new music,
which led to the founding of
the San Francisco Tape Music Center.
The San Francisco Tape Music Center
was not associated with an institution.
So it was friends brought together what equipment
they had to share.
Our sense of what we were doing
at that point was opening a place where poets,
painters, film, and electronic or tape music,
where all this stuff could be done.
It was a sense of individuality.
Nobody wanted to be like anyone else
and everybody was very supportive
of what everybody else was doing.
My interest was always in live performance
and I started to find out ways to use tape recorders
and perform live with them,
and that was making a tape delay system,
which allows me to maintain
that physical contact with the sound.
[high pitched whirring]
orchestral music playing
How do you exercise the canon of
classical music of misogyny
with two oscillators, a turntable, and tape delay?
Feminism was at the center of what she was doing,
and it's strange because it seems like if the boys' club
is going to pick a token woman, you would not pick
a woman who is that outspoken.
Pauline was conscious of the fact that
she was different.
She had a streak of a revolutionary in her.
Pauline, it was hard, you know,
she had come out in the 50s
and here she was a woman, gay,
avant-garde music,
each thing by itself would be hard,
but she had three things that were hard
and women composers
were not being performed, you know.
[man] You wrote an editorial
to the New York Times once called
"Don't Call Them 'Lady' Composers"
- [Pauline] That's right. - Tell us about
when you wrote that and why.
[Pauline] I just want to be introduced as a composer.
That has caused me to use that title
and to start to point out
how hard it was for women to be taken seriously
as creators of music.
[narrator] Go out walking at night.
Tread so quietly the bottoms of your feet become ears.
Working with an all-women ensemble,
instructions like these were intended to encourage
deep listening.
[Pauline] I was alarmed
as many were, of course,
with the Vietnam War,
and I began to seek some ways of working with sound
that I could discover more of a kind of inner peace.
I found myself listening to long sounds
and becoming more interested in
what the sounds did themselves
than what I would do with them.
And as this work proceeded,
I began to become interested
in what the kind of listening
I was doing did to me
and my own internal processes.
[woman] Does it have social and political
implications to you,
the kind of music that you write?
Oh, yes.
Well...
I feel that one's interactions,
the way one relates in an organization of any kind,
is political and social
and very important.
The path that I hope to be on is one where the energy
that comes out of the work that I do is beneficial
to others as well as myself.
I want my work to be mutually beneficial.
I'm not interested in making an object
of art and entertainment.
I'm interested in making something that helps me
to grow and expand and change as an individual
and in relation to others.
[narrator] Pauline's preoccupation with
how we hear and feel the sounds within and around us
were shared by Maryanne Amacher at MIT,
who was sounding out the city.
[high-pitch whirring]
I had installed a microphone
in eight locations at the Boston Harbor
in the New England Fish Exchange
connected to telephone links.
It was very nice to come in late at night
at 1:00 in the morning
and just turn on the mixer and have the sound
coming from the distant night when I liked it best
because I could hear patterns in various shapes.
- [seagulls squawking] - [high-pitched whirring]
I realized, my, there's a tone of this place.
There's a whole undercurrent that exists here
that makes this recognizable in some way.
It wasn't hard to analyze it in Boston.
It was like a low F sharp.
Then other places, for example, New York,
it was like a low E.
[rumbling]
It wasn't that I wanted the sounds of the birds
or the sounds of the harbor or any of these sounds,
I really wanted to experience and learn about hearing.
[man] When people say to you, "Yeah, but is it music?"
After you say, "Yes it is,"
how do you expand on that?
[Maryanne] Well, I think that's sort of an old question.
Much of our music, classical pop, has this beat,
has this gallop, has this trot.
I'm interested in music that communicates some ideas,
[eerie echoing]
finding places where there is space and dimension
to the sound,
sounds very, very far away and very close up.
Maryanne was really interested in
contemporary science.
She had been very interested in muon research,
these particles that speed through the universe.
She was constantly thinking about
intersections of science, life, and sound.
Her house was incredible.
It was in breathtakingly bad condition.
There was this whole rack
full of these sine wave oscillators
straight out of a physics lab.
And there's this woman sitting there
with this really intense, buzzy energy.
She'd have a rock-and-roll attitude
towards, "I'm going to make this whole house
"vibrate and come alive."
[frequencies reverberating]
She wanted to develop an extremely
rigorous approach to listening,
to activating sights,
to thinking outside of composition as it's known.
She didn't want to push around
dead white men's notes.
I wanted to create music
where the listener actually
had vivid experiences of contributing.
In composing, I am conscious of the tones
that you make in response to the tones
that a musician plays.
One of the phenomenon she was most interested in
was otoacoustic emission.
She referred to them as ear tones.
If you have two frequencies and they sound together,
the ear and the mind try to sort of resolve them.
There is an emergent third pitch.
She can compose these outer things that will produce
this inner thing.
She would refer to it as
ghost writing the listener's music.
The first time one encounters her music
and the way that it dances inside your ear
is this light bulb moment.
You can actually play with
the physicality of the listener.
[eerie frequencies echoing]
[high-pitched frequency ringing]
Merce Cunningham commissioned a piece from her.
You'd hear this very high pitch.
And then there would be thunder,
[thunder rumbling]
beautiful thunder recorded in stereoscopic sound
that would shift across the room.
And when it hit, there would be this array
of other frequencies that would happen.
It was very, very beautiful.
[high-pitched frequency ringing]
[narrator] The idea of a slowly evolving composition
that alters the listener
also fired the imagination of Eliane Radigue.
When I met Eliane,
she had been working with the Buchla synthesizer,
yet this piece that she wrote, Chry-ptus,
sounded nothing like a Buchla.
We're talking with Eliane Radigue
who's here from Paris.
Are you working with both synthesizers
and tape recording processes?
Yes, the ARP synthesizer
and the tape recorder.
My main involvement with music is to work on
slow changing of the sounds.
[Charles] So in a way,
you're working with time?
[Eliane] Yes, my last work, Adnos II,
is 75 minutes long, and it couldn't be shorter.
It just goes like a stream.
I should say that this music I make
is not so much welcome,
except by a few people, of course.
There is nothing in between.
People likes it, or not at all.
For the music establishment,
they think that I don't make music.
That's not music.
[Charles] Oh, still arguing about that, are we?
[Eliane laughing]
Our music was meant to be listened to
in a different way than how you'd listen to,
like, a pop song.
In a pop song you're listening for
melodies, harmonies, lyrics.
In her music, you're listening not just
for the things that are changing in the sound,
but for the way that the experience
is changing your disposition.
[crowd chattering]
[synthesizer playing]
I'll make it start very dull
and then get very bright like that.
It sounds more like a trumpet sound.
[synthesizer playing]
And I'll add a little echo.
[synthesizer playing]
The transgressive act of
recontextualizing these classic
Western art music tropes,
that takes a lot of strength, humor, and vision.
Up until that moment,
electronic music had this promise
of a different vocabulary, a different language,
a new paradigm, a new way of working.
Switched-On Bach, the way it impacted
the public's consciousness
of what a synthesizer was,
was completely retroactive.
Everybody thought that these things were about
replicating sounds.
To me, electronic music wasn't about
making baroque music
with new timbres.
It was a different kind of music.
You just had the Summer of Love.
Everything we knew was being thrown out,
[crowd shouting]
and it was a whole new world.
Electronics were part of that world.
- What are they? - Oh, these are patch cords.
This is-- these are the things that route the signal
from one little module to another to get the sound.
You can patch it a lot of different ways and the way
you patch it will determine what you get.
It's like creating an instrument.
Do you know before you put them in
what it's going to sound like?
Well, you're always going towards an idea.
That's what makes you put the patch cords in certain places.
Part of an instrument is what it can do
and part of it is what you do to it.
The other part of music of course is the motion
and the personal involvement that a musician gives
to his instrument,
and that's something that I happen to feel
and have with synthesizers.
So I play the synthesizer the same way
somebody else would play cello or violin.
[arpeggiator ringing]
For a classically trained pianist
to turn her back on a keyboard,
she's crazy.
It was like learning a new language
via the means of cutting out your own tongue.
Yeah, I can sing out of tune
and it'll still be in tune
because it depends on what I'm playing.
This is all the pitch so you don't have to really be able
to sing to do this.
So, it's great. it's great.
Hello, hello, hello.
I couldn't get a record deal
because the record companies were not interested
in a woman who did not sing.
One, one...
Advertising wanted to be on the edge.
They were looking for something different.
I had total freedom.
Nobody could tell me what to do.
They didn't know what I did.
[man] The new Clairol custom care coon brush.
Atari is going to turn your head around.
Big news from Covergirl.
There's a whole new thick lash mascara.
The landscape that she must have walked into
must have been like something from Mad Men.
I remember Suzanne telling me stories like
she'd turn up early to set up
all the modular gear in studios
and a young engineer would come in and go,
"Which mic are you going to sing on?"
or, "What are you going to sing for us?"
Because those stereotypes were
so commonplace in studios in those days.
Welcome to Xenon.
More than anybody else,
she built a career
out of making weird music,
which is something I think everybody aspires to.
Oh...
She had her own company.
She was able to turn her art into something
she can live on.
- Oh! - [echoing]
Don't be afraid.
This is my almost male voice.
[audience laughing]
Make the thing make noises for us.
- Okay, let's-- - Now first of all,
why do you have this stuff?
What do you do with this?
Well, this is how I make a living.
But I mean, you don't go door-to-door saying,
I'll make you sound goofy.
Yeah, they call me. they call me.
They call you, uh...
[sound building up]
[sound getting louder]
Should I stop?
No, let it go for about half an hour.
That's wonderful.
[applause]
It was 1980.
I was hired to do a Hollywood feature.
It was a Lily Tomlin movie.
Lily was a woman, the head of the production
at Universal was a woman.
So I had two women in positions of power.
And guess what? I got hired.
Is that package for me?
Mike, it's for me. it's for me.
I didn't know I was the first woman
to be hired to score a major Hollywood feature,
and I didn't know that it would be 14 years
until another woman was hired.
We are casualties
of a day-to-day system
that operates without awareness
that we're even there.
Galaxy glue
Life would go to pieces without galaxy glue
[Lauire] There weren't any women composers that I knew of.
I had never heard of one.
Composers were old white dead men.
It was just not something I ever thought of
as something I could do.
When they asked me in high school,
"What would you like to do with your life?"
I said, "I would love to do music."
They said, "Totally out of the question.
"You would have needed to have music lessons
"all during your childhood."
So I did a degree in social sciences,
but secretly I really always wanted to do music.
After I got my bachelor's and moved to New York,
I thought, I'm going to regret it
for the rest of my life if I don't give it a real try.
- [piano playing] - [man vocalizing]
I was taking ear training and music at Juilliard
and happened to be in Mike Czajkowski's class.
And he was working with Mort Subotnick.
Mike dragged me down to Mort's studio
and it was like music went
from black and white to color.
I fell in love with electronic music.
It completely changed
the way I heard everything.
The sounds of the traffic in the street
no longer sounded the same.
I always wanted to do something in the arts
that had to do with the real, authentic experience
of being alive, in contrast to
the 1950s hypocritical reality in which I lived,
in which everything was glossed over
with cotton candy.
A perfect dinner, Judy.
And you said she couldn't boil water
without burning it.
[Laurie] I got involved in the downtown art scene,
which is like "try anything," you know?
[dissonant and random sounds playing]
I tackled learning the Buchla modular analogue system.
While I could do all kinds of wonderful things with sounds,
what I really wanted was the precision of the computer.
I got involved with computers in music
out of frustration at other ways of doing music, in part,
and also because of the incredible potential
that they had for combining the best of all other worlds,
let's say.
The memory, the logic,
the ability to actually interact with sound
in real time began to be possible.
The complete freedom to define
any kind of world you wanted.
[sounds changing]
[rumbling]
Computers back then were the enemy of the counterculture.
Computers belonged to the banks and the military
and the insurance companies.
Computer music was the utter dehumanization of music
rather than, to some few of us,
the liberation of it.
Do you mean to tell me that you haven't heard it?
No, I haven't heard it.
Here, play it.
It's really terrific, Suzie. Wait 'til you hear it.
Excuse me, ladies.
I have a special request.
[electronic music playing]
Laurie Spiegel was a ukulele player
among other things.
She had a sense of music that is based in folk idioms,
and Appalachian Grove
is one of the earliest computer music pieces
that anyone would want to listen to
more than once.
But to think that it was all done
by punching holes in cards
and running them through the Bell Labs computer
is quite astonishing.
[Laurie] Technology is just,
it's a natural extension of man.
Man has always played with tools.
Man has always developed tools,
and it is a tool, it's not--
The machine doesn't write the music.
You tell the machine what to do,
and the machine is an extension of you.
Bell Labs was a great, great institution.
Everything changed after the AT&T divestiture happened.
Bell Labs became product-oriented
instead of pure research.
[overlapping voices]
After I left there, I was absolutely desolate.
I had lost my main creative medium.
[man] Laurie Spiegel,
you have a very fascinating new product,
a software program, which you created...
- Yeah. - ...called Music Mouse.
Can you tell us a little bit about that?
This is actually a program which turns the Macintosh
into an instrument which you play,
and unlike traditional instruments,
on the other hand, it uses the logic of the computer
supportively to musical expression.
[Laurie] I needed an instrument.
I wanted something which was entirely under my own control
that didn't have to be marketable
or it didn't involve funding.
It was just something entirely mine.
It's the first time I've done something
essentially for myself
that I'm just really making available
to anybody who wants it,
and I hope a lot of people really get
a lot of good music out of it.
Everybody who's using it seems to be doing
something slightly different.
So I'll be interested, you know,
keeping my ears open for whatever you do.
Mouse ears.
She wasn't satisfied with
the given constraints of what she was working with.
So she decided to make her own software.
She just embodies this idea of agency.
Her work was very much in the lineage
with the work of Daphne Oram
because of her engineering
of a new language for producing sounds,
and the support system for other people
to invent new soundscapes.
[woman] What's the most exciting thing
about the field for you?
Well, this is a time at which many people feel
that there are a lot of dead ends in music,
that there isn't a lot more to do.
This is actually...
I see this and through the technology,
I experience this as quite the opposite.
This is a period in which
we realize we've only just begun
to scratch the surface of what's possible musically.
[narrator] Through technology,
voices are amplified, silence is broken,
spaces are shared.
The music in our head
can finally be heard by others.
[pigeon cooing]
[whooshing echoing]
We were, in a way,
trying to make a bit of a revolution,
but I don't think we would have put it
in such grandiose terms.
We were trying to put music
back in touch with itself.
And...
Okay, and this has to go here.
This is here.
This is...
There were really no role models for female composers
when I studied music.
Overall, we are incrementally
getting more visibility,
but it's two steps forward and one step back.
And to this day it kind of irks me
that when I turn on my favorite radio station,
it's just the male parade.
It is odd that electronic music,
it's generally considered a man's field.
Women have been so formative in it.
There has to be a complete change of consciousness
throughout the musical field,
where they could begin to teach music that's written
by women, as well as men,
as well as of all colors,
and it would effect a great change.
Listening is the basis of creativity and culture.
How you're listening is and how you develop a culture.
And how a community of people listen
is what creates their culture.
It's quite reassuring to realize that
I wasn't the only woman making strange electronic music.
What relates all of these women
is this DIY thing.
And DIY is interesting because it doesn't mean that
you've explicitly, voluntarily chosen to do it yourself.
It's that there are certain barriers in place
that don't allow you to do anything.
If you don't have the visual
or the knowledge
of there being any people
in the area of work
that you're interested in that are similar to you,
then you don't think that it's possible for you.
There is something psychological that happens
when you can see yourself in the people
who are being celebrated.
[exhales]
Your eyes are set on stun
You are hotter than the sun
I love to see you shine
Because you really blow my mind
Your heart beats like a drum
It hammers when you're gone
The terms with you and me are up
Set us free
Synthesize me
Hypnotize me
Humanize me
Energize me
Synthesize me
Hypnotize me
Humanize me
Energize me
Your eyes are set on stun
You are hotter than the sun
I love to see you shine
Because you really blow my mind
Your heart beats like a drum
It hammers when you're gone
The terms with you and me are up
Set us free
Synthesize me
Hypnotize me
Humanize me
Energize me
Synthesize me
Hypnotize me
Humanize me
Energize me
I've seen the rings of Saturn
And the craters on the moon
Oceans of Venus in the middle of June
Mirrors of Mercury and Mars' electric skies
Pearls of Neptune in Jupiter's eyes
I heard the old man who plays the lake
Amazing things will make you want to shake
A strange planet a zillion lightyears away
Through a black hole across the Milky Way
Synthesize me
Hypnotize me
Humanize me
Energize me
Synthesize me
Hypnotize me
Humanize me
Energize me
Don't patronize me
Don't glamorize me
Don't paralyze me
You can't surprise me
Harmonize me
Mesmerize me
Solarize me
Synchronize me
Synthesize me
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