Terry Riley
In C

LA RECENSIONE

Not yet thirty, Terry Riley became famous thanks to an idea of disarming simplicity: writing a piece of "serious" music in the key of C major (the simplest, the only one without alterations). "In C," precisely. If he had dared to do it in Europe, in the midst of the tumultuous and atonal 1960s, he would have been lynched, but since he was basking in the California sun at the time, he succeeded, and did it well.

To add that "In C," from 1964, is composed for an unspecified number of performers: Riley suggests about 35, but if there are a few more or less, that's fine too. The duration? Variable, because the piece consists of 53 short musical phrases that can be repeated an arbitrary number of times, according to some guidelines indicated by the composer but whose final application is up to the performers; a duration of between three-quarters of an hour and an hour and a half is suggested, but if it lasts longer or shorter, don't worry: it's okay. Instruments? Your choice, the important thing is that someone sets the tempo by playing a C on the piano, like a human metronome, for the entire duration of the piece.

It's not surprising, given the premises, that "In C" has had so many recordings: we owe it to the freedom (albeit controlled) that this piece grants to performers and thus to the diversity of the final result, but above all to the historical importance that the piece has assumed over time. "In C" is considered the first piece of minimalist music, the one that would give rise to a stylistic current, minimalism, which had some American composers as its pioneers: besides Terry Riley, Steve Reich, Philip Glass, and John Adams among the major ones.

Making minimalist music, as in the case of "In C," means unabashedly using the tonal system when in Europe it had been preached for decades that tonality was dead, that one had to write dodecaphonic music (thus Schoenberg) and then even serial (thus Boulez & friends). It means composing a music made of short phrases that repeat throughout the piece, sabotaged from within by small variations that sometimes dramatically transform the musical texture. It means, in short, inventing a new language that translates into music of great strength and originality starting from a few simple ideas: tonality, repetition, emphasis on rhythm.

But simplicity does not mean naivety or foolishness: "In C," for example, may seem like an easy piece, judging it by the title, only to result in a relentless sonic continuum that leaves the listener breathless. Its charm also lies in this, as does that of much music that would be born later thanks to its example.