What do you get when you take one very influential German band, about 60 people, three amps, half a drum set, two Fender guitars, a small accordion, an upright vacuum, a ukulele, trumpets, trombones, a full size synthesizer, tambourines and chairs? It’s not the easiest thing to put your finger on, but the Faust workshop last night at the International House wasn’t your average musical performance.
Around 8:15 the band, led by Jean-Hervé Péron, walks into the auditorium to scattered applause. There are seemingly few “fans” in the audience. Most people there were just interested in participating.
Peron explains the three “movements” in the workshop. The first, “Who are we?” portion, starts off slow. We are told to think of something that begins with the same first letter as our first name. The music at this point is supposed to be “inaudible.” Members of the band are waving their arms, waving a painting, furiously opening and closing their jackets. Audience members rub trombones on the ground, rub seats, barely touch a guitar set up on the floor, and do anything that makes barely any noise. Peron walks around to most of the participants and encourages them to raise the volume a bit. Faust drummer Werner “Zappi” Diermaier finally starts playing the drums in a normal fashion while Peron almost conducts the noise of papers being rustled, vacuums and any other audience participation. It comes to a stunning crescendo before Peron brings it back down.
“We are here to exchange something for a short instant in our lives,” said Peron. “We’re here to exchange feelings, that’s why we’re doing this workshop. Not playing is extremely difficult. Carrying the whole piece of music without playing anything.”
This leads to a group discussion about the nature of humanity and the creation of art. I did not expect this when I walked into the International House about an hour prior.
For the disorientation exercise, the participants are split into four groups: rustlers, tinklers, air, and thumpers. Each of the groups is then assigned different parts, therefore destabilizing and disorienting the participants as a whole. It starts slow like the last movement, but this time with more drums and guitar. There are some more actual instruments being played but you can’t really pick out what. Close your eyes for a moment and you can envision an orchestra playing anything around. It works somehow. The groups are all mostly audible, besides air. Air can’t be heard. Something Peron discusses in the next discussion period.
To finish the workshop off, Faust members/collaborators each lead a group in the Faust song “So Far.” A choir of male voices led by Peron sing the bass line; Zappi leads a group in a 7/4 beat and another in a 2/4 beat. There is a group chirping, a group playing the lead guitar line on guitars, keyboards, basses and Casio toy keyboards.
The group started off throughout the auditorium, moving closer for the last 10 minutes. After going through an almost punk version of the song, Peron stopped us and thanked us for participating. After the workshop ended, the band members stuck around to talk to their new band mates, the crowd.
It wasn’t the most standard experience I’ve ever had, as both a musician or as a writer. The fact that Faust is touring with these workshops is a testament to them as musicians and their love for the creation of music. Night one is the workshop and night two is the performance, but it seems like the members of the band would rather do workshops every night. There was a feeling of togetherness in that room, a feeling of joint exploration. Because of this, the night was a success.
“We are not teachers,” said Peron. “We can only share our ideals with you.” They did, and we all became a part of them.
