Originally commissioned by the Renaissance Society for their exhibition “Nine Lives,” Raven Chacon’s American Ledger No. 3 was unable to be staged due to the Covid-19 pandemic. Nearly five years later, the Renaissance Society and the Logan Center for the Arts at the University of Chicago finally presented this third addition to his American Ledger series. The previous American Ledger scores dealt with reinterpreting significant events in American history and the third iteration is no different. This version was dedicated to Chicago journalist and anti-lynching activist, Ida B. Wells. The piece had a multifaceted presentation: a score printed upon a flag placed on the ground between the two female choirs, four xylophones, four large bowls filled with pennies, and a supplemental newspaper containing a collage of source materials with Chacon’s commentary. Everyone in the crowd discussed the entangling of these different aspects, drawing connections between the disparate elements of the piece.

        Chacon’s score, printed on a flag, was sitting on the ground, surrounded by lines of folding chairs and an audience huddling together against the encroaching cold of winter. The score’s graphic visual language reconstituted common symbols and shapes culled from American history and Western music theory in order to call into question the dominant narratives of American society. Contemporaneous with these visual motifs, Chacon isolates sonic motifs in the enactment of the score as well. As the music developed, these disparate and scattered themes are knotted together into a powerful piece of indeterminate music (a compositional style pioneered by John Cage which sought to compose found sounds and chance operations into a music piece).

        The four phases of American Ledger No. 3 were heralded by a single isolated drum hit—bang! The initial phase was inaugurated by the entrance of twin female choirs who lined up facing each other. They began tossing pennies toward four miniature xylophones arranged upon the corners of Chacon’s score. The sparse metallic percussive soundscape was occasionally punctuated by the soft euphonious ringing of the xylophone keys. The wind rustled as the onlookers whispered and gossiped, shifted around for warmth, and emitted a murmuring hum which lingered alongside the music.

        Bang! The second phase began with the parallel lines of performers moving inwards towards each other. They started to intermittently sing a swath of chants. The muddled chorus was both pleasant and unpleasant in equal measure, changing from moment to moment. This music embodied a particular mono-no-aware (the pathos of things) attitude, or an appreciation of the impermanence and transience of life. The xylophone notes rise and dissipate, caught amongst the sea of percussive noise; the melody being treated with the same importance as the environmental sounds. The high-pitched rhythmic percussion and melodic xylophones acquired greater form and definition over time. The layers of sonic activity slowly became more dense, comparable to a fog. A definitive melodic theme began to gradually emerge amidst the chaos.

        Bang! The third phase began. The music became more compacted and steady pulsating chords emerged from the lapping rondos sung by the opposing choirs. The tempo increased as a second drum stamps out a simple beat. The music now churned.

        Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! The two lines moved right up to the edges of the score and the voices began repeating their lines in harmony as a singular sonic unit. The waves of sound rolled over the audience until the drummers walked away. The singers departed sporadically following the dissipating drums. The singing and drumming grew fainter and fainter the farther they drifted away until it was silent.

        In the newsprint pamphlet, Chacon asserts that this latest edition of the American Ledger series is concerned with how to reconcile our conflicting ideas of truth. My interpretation of American Ledger No. 3 is that the truth has become a complex subject in our current society, obfuscated by both the rise of technology and the deeply entrenched political divides which grow more distant and extreme by the day. How do we arrive at a consensus of truth? Chacon’s concept of truth is fragmentary; it is communal and emerges from a multitude of perspectives much like how the music itself developed.

        Chacon states that he is hoping to discover in this piece, “an approximate shared understanding of the truth.”¹ His marriage of experimental musical forms with his own radical politics of social justice is a refreshing and unique approach that was able to call into question predominant narratives of American society. Evoking Wells’ journalistic activism against brutal racial violence, Chacon revealed how the mythic symbols, images, sounds, and ideals of America are predicated on perpetrating violence against minorities.

        American Ledger No. 3 began as chaotic noise but steadily grew into a desperate chant. The performers established connections, relationships, and solidarity the same way the vocal melodies and ringing xylophone notes concentrated into an epic demanding harmony. It was an apt sonic metaphor for the fraught and disorienting times we are living through across the world. The graphic symbols and sonic textures were arranged into new forms which compel the audience to think and consider their relationships to society. This performance affirms a composer who will clearly come to define avant-garde music going forward.

John Thomure is a performance artist and writer currently based in Chicago. His performance and writing practices fixate on local art history, ecology, and exploring underappreciated artists and their archives.

Footnote: 

1 Excerpt from American Ledger No. 3 Pamphet