What silence can teach you about sound

What can you hear in silence? In this exploration of sound, host of the podcast "Twenty Thousand Hertz" Dallas Taylor tells the story of arguably the most debated musical composition in recent history -- composer John Cage's iconic piece 4'33" -- and invites you to take notice of the soundscape around you. Watch to the end to experience a performance of 4'33''.

For many of us right now,
our lives are quieter than normal.

And quiet can be unnerving.

It can make you feel lonely,

or just all too aware
of the things you're missing out on.

I think about sound all the time.

I'm a sound designer,

and I host the podcast
"Twenty Thousand Hertz."

It's all about the world's most
recognizable and interesting sounds.

But I think this is the perfect time
to talk about silence.

Because what I've come to understand

is that there is no such thing as silence.

And the person who opened
my mind to this idea

is one of the most influential
composers in history.

(Piano music)

John Cage has made an impact
on artists in many genres,

from avant-garde musicians,
to modern dance, to pop music.

Right now, we're listening
to his 1948 piece

called "In a Landscape."

This version was recorded in 1994
by Stephen Drury.

(Piano music)

This piece is actually not very typical
of John Cage's writing.

He's more known for his innovations
and avant-garde techniques.

But despite his reputation,

no one was prepared
for what he did in 1952,

when he created the most daring
piece of his career.

It was called "4'33'',"

and it was a piece that some critics
even refused to call "music,"

because for the entire
duration of the piece,

the performer plays

nothing at all.

Well, to be technical,
the performer is actually playing rest.

But to the audience,
it looks like nothing is happening.

John Cage's "4'33''"
was performed for the first time

in the summer of 1952,

by renowned pianist David Tudor.

It was at the Maverick Concert hall
in Woodstock, New York.

This is a beautiful wooden building
with huge openings to the outdoors.

So, David Tudor walked out on stage,

sat down at the piano,

then closed the piano lid.

He then sat in silence,

only moving to open
and close the piano lid

between each of the three movements.

After the time was up,

he got up

and walked off the stage.

(Piano music)

The audience had no idea what to think.

It made people wonder if Cage
is even taking his career seriously.

A close friend even wrote to him,

begging that he not turn
his career into a joke.

John Cage had, well, if you could call it,

composed a piece of music

that really challenged
some very established ideas

about music composition.

It's something that musicians
still debate today.

To understand just what
John Cage was thinking,

let's back up to the 1940s.

Back then,

John Cage was making a name for himself
composing for the prepared piano.

(Piano music)

To make music like this,

John Cage would put objects
inside the piano,

between the strings.

Things you just find lying around,

like screws, tape and rubber erasers.

So now, you've transformed the piano

from a tonal instrument
with high and low pitches

into a collection of unique sounds.

The music you're hearing
is Cage's "Sonata V,"

from "Sonatas and Interludes
for Prepared Piano."

Probably his most famous work
outside of "4'33''."

This version was performed
by Boris Berman.

John Cage wrote incredibly
detailed instructions

about where to place
each object in the piano.

But it's impossible for every performer
to get the exact same objects,

so the sound you get is always different.

Basically, it comes down to random chance.

This was pretty bananas and pretty alien

to the way most composers and musicians
are taught to do things.

John Cage was becoming
increasingly interested

in chance and randomness

and letting the universe
provide the answer to the question

"What note should I play next?"

But to hear the answer to the question,

first, you have to listen.

And in the 1940s,

listening to the universe
was getting harder to do.

(Elevator music)

The Muzak company was founded in the '30s.

It really took off,

and soon, there was constant
background music nearly everywhere.

It was almost impossible to escape.

John Cage realized
that people were losing the option

to shut out the background
music of the world.

He worried that Muzak would prevent people
from hearing silence altogether.

In 1948,

four years before he wrote "4'33'',"

John Cage mentioned
that he wanted to write

a four-and-a-half-minute-long
piece of silence

and sell it to the Muzak company.

It started as something
of a political statement

or an offhand comment,

but this idea struck a nerve
and quickly evolved.

John Cage was starting to think
deeply about silence.

And when he visited a truly quiet place,

he made a startling discovery.

John Cage visited an anechoic chamber
at Harvard University.

Anechoic chambers are rooms
that are acoustically treated

to minimize sound to almost zero.

There are no sounds in these rooms,

so John Cage didn't expect
to hear anything at all.

But he actually heard
his own blood circulating.

(Pulse)

I've personally experienced
an anechoic chamber,

and it's a really wild experience

that can completely change
your perceptions

about sound and silence.

It really felt like my brain
just turning up an amplifier,

grasping for anything to hear.

Just like John Cage,

I could very clearly hear my blood
pushing through my body.

John Cage realized, in that moment,

that no matter where we are,
even our bodies are making sound.

There's basically no such thing
as true silence.

As long as you are in your body,

you're always hearing something.

This is where John Cage's interest
in chance and randomness

met his interest in silence.

He realized that creating an environment
with no distractions

wasn't about creating silence.

It wasn't even about controlling noise.

It was about the sounds
that were already there,

but you suddenly hear for the first time

when you're really ready to listen.

That's what's so often
misunderstood about "4'33''."

People assume it's a joke,

but that couldn't be further
from the truth.

It sounds different
everywhere you play it.

And that's the point.

What John Cage really wanted us to hear

is the beauty of the sonic
world around us.

(Birds chirping)

(Overlapping voices)

(Church bell ringing)

(Crickets chirping and owl hooting)

"4'33''" should be a mindful experience

that helps you focus on accepting things
just the way they are.

It's not something that anyone else
can tell you how you're supposed to feel.

It's deeply personal.

It also brings up
some pretty big questions

about our sonic world.

Is "4'33''" music, is it sound,

is sound music?

Is there even a difference?

John Cage reminds us

that music isn't the only kind of sound
worth listening to.

All sounds are worth thinking about.

We have a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity

to reset our ears.

And if we become more conscious
of what we hear,

we'll inherently make
our world sound better.

Quietness is not when we turn off
our minds to sound,

but when we can really start to listen

and hear the world
in all of its sonic beauty.

So in this spirit,

let's perform "4'33''" together,

wherever you are.

It's three movements,

and I'll let you know when they start.

Listen to the texture and rhythm
of the sounds around you right now.

Listen for the loud and soft,

the harmonic, the dissonant,

and all the small details
that make every sound unique.

Spend this time as mindful and focused
in this real-life sonic moment.

Enjoy the magnificence
of hearing and listening.

So here comes the first movement.

Starting ...

now.

[I. Tacet]

(No audio)

And here's movement two.

It will be two minutes and 23 seconds.

[II. Tacet]

(No audio)

And here is the final movement.

It will be one minute and 40 seconds.

[III. Tacet]

(No audio)

And that's it.

We did it.

Thanks for listening.