The two papers after lunch concentrated on issues around instrumental performance of Cage. Simon Anderson gave a detailed and fascinating account of the work in progress in his PhD on the prepared piano. There have been two schools or performance - those who are concerned to follow Cage’s instructions precisely, and those who are prepared to follow the instructions loosely. The problem is that some preparations are given very precisely, and some very loosely.

He has analysed the effects of particular preparations – the timbres and overtone structures which these produce, and how they excite or damp nodal points on the strings. The practical implications will be in assisting performers who prepare pianos.

Marco Lombardi gave a useful account of Cage’s works for the cello – those specifically written for cello, such as One8; those written for any strings, such 59 1/2 ; and those written for any instrument that have been realised by cellists, such as A Dip In The Lake.

The final two papers looked at Cage’s vocal works. Rebecca Kim described how Cage’s own readings became an increasingly important part of his work from 1970 onwards. This may have been coincident with his growing social concerns, but was also linked to health problems, such as arthritis, which limited other performance options. Cage had recalled that he had the “voice of a sissy” and was bullied mercilessly at Elementary School as a result. At church he was told he had “no voice”.

His late works often avoided meaning by applying chance procedures to existing texts – Thoreau in Mureau, and Joyce in several Writing Throughs … - or disrupted meaning through dissolution of syntax in his mesostics. His performance style was musical, but not expressive – intoning was the verb used by one critic. Nevertheless, our ideas of the physicality and intimacy of the voice invite us to read a biography into these works.

Rob Haskins discussed the issues around performance of Cage’s Song Books. One of the most controversial performances of any of Cage’s works – the licence of the performers infuriated Cage. He discussed his own production of a performance of Song Books and concluded that two axioms need to be borne in mind when performing Cage – that Cage expected performers to be aware of the style of music they were performing and its context; and that Cage wanted performers to work unobtrusively. Given the nature of Cage’s work, performance practice cannot be prescribed but Haskins called for the development of an ethnography of Cage performance, particularly while so many of Cage’s collaborators remain alive.

William Brooks made a very strong intervention in the question and answer session after this paper. His view was Cage’s scores are tablature rather than scores in the traditional sense, in that they describe actions, rather than notate sounds. As such, the performance of these scores should be governed by ethics rather than aesthetics. Brooks recalled how Cage had told performers that if they didn’t know what to do at a particular point in a piece, they should ask a question and then prepare a list of answers. The answer to the performance dilemma would then be chosen from this list by chance procedures. Brooks felt the role of the Cage performer was to present something inscrutable for contemplation, and that performers needed to discard ideas of interpretation or creativity.

Finally, after the papers, the day ended with two beautiful performances of Cage. Jody Killingworth spoke the Lecture On Nothing under the light of a table lamp in a darkened auditorium. In performance, the structural divisions of the text come alive in a way that does not happen when you read it in Silence. The performance also brought echoes of Gertrude Stein to the text, and a sense of camp – all those references to Kansas must surely invoke to The Wizard Of Oz?

John Tilbury then performed the Sonatas And Interludes For Prepared Piano. A generation was raised on his 1974 recording of the piece, and it is a mystery why Decca have never re-released it. Tilbury is a self-confessed member of the casual school of piano preparation. His material was nuts, bolt, rubbers, and bits of protractor – it looked like the contents of his school blazer pockets. He made a thrilling performance. I own three versions of this piece, all well recorded, but was still amazed at the range of sounds produced live. There were whistling harmonics, and echoes and roars within the body of the piano that sounded as if they were produced in a huge cave.

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