Why Huun Huur Tu and Wagner don't mix

In an interview between pop artist Bjork and modern composer Arvo Part, Bjork comments, "I like your music very much because you give space to the listener. He can go inside and live there. But a lot of music from the last few centuries you just have to sit and listen." Earlier in the semester, many of us studied John Adams piece, "On the Transmigration of Souls" which he described in a similar way, as a "memory space", a place where you can go and be alone with your thoughts.

These quotes come to mind because of the feeling I get when listening to Huun Huur Tu. There is little melodic development and virtually no harmonic development. The rhythms and the melodies mostly repeat. Yet, I find a strange attraction to the music. They create a sound world that we can simply inhabit. The music doesn't exhaust us, it gives us room to move.

Today, I found myself listening to Tannhauser and Huun Huur Tu side by side. One scarcely knows where to begin when describing such opposite musical worlds, but Bjork's quote has a ring to it. With Wagner, as with most European classical music, I feel like someone is giving a speech. It may be a beautiful speech or an interesting speech, but nonetheless I feel more like a spectator rather than a participant in the music (Interestingly, I don't have this experience as a performer, only a listener). Huun Huur Tu, however, gives me the sense of inhabiting a sound rather than observing it from the outside. I found it refreshing to find music that creates a relaxed atmosphere to think, music that isn't in a hurry to get anywhere or prove a point. Music that just lives.