The knees in Einstein on the Beach act as introductory material to the act it precedes and intermediaries between movements. The term “knee” is supposed to refer to the joint-like qualities it exhibits. All of the knees in this work are quite striking to me as they are frankly the most interesting sections of the work. They are short enough that the casual listener’s attention span isn’t exploited and they have a variation in material that probably comes from the functionality of moving between acts. These are accurate descriptors of the knees in the middle of the work, but what about the knees that are on the outside? Eventually we’ll look at how all the knees work together.
The first and last movements are practically the same, save for the addition of one more speaker in the final knee. Since they are the same, and the first movement is the more basic of the two first movement, I’ll begin here. Philip Glass is kind enough to write out a brief description of the structure he created in the program notes that are included in the CD, so some of this analysis is coming straight from the man, but I’ve expanded on what most of anyone can read by owning a copy of the opera.
The work begins with one of he main motivs of the work, and the principal harmonic motion that pops up in every single act if I am remembering my previous listenings correctly (Double checking with Mr. Glass affirms this). It goes something likes this:
Now, the work actually begins with that sequence of pitches, but without any discernible rhythm before launching into the exact transcription I’ve put above. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Glass had actually written something out (metrically) but I’ll assume that the first iteration of those pitches weren’t meant to be felt rhythmically like the next ones and all its repetition in the future. After the electric organ lands on that C the first voice enters, stating single digit numbers. As a side note, the first note that the speaker enters with is “2” and it almost sounds as if a stray mic check slipped in, until it is clear that the stating of the numbers are intentional a moment later. If you listen closely, the woman who enters first is saying the numbers on beats, maybe not the exact beat that she states, but they do have a rhythmic characteristic, which is contrasted by the second principal speaker’s voice, who seemingly speaks the numbers at random in the bar. This may be a happy mistake though.
After three of these cadences, which essentially one acting as a phrase, the chorus comes in, counting the beats of each note in the electric organ. This is the famed; “1, 2, 3, 4,- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, -1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8” After one of these phrases go by, the speaker that entered first begins reciting the lyrics written by Christopher Knowles. I’ve decided against copying what is written as the lyrics in the booklet included, as they are actually all wrong when compared to what is being said on the track.
Three cadences after our principle voice began speaking, the chorus, which has been regularly counting each beat, begins interrupting the number “1” in their counting in specific places. Each cadence where an interruption happens on one two, or even three of the pitches is repeated twice. This continues for fifteen bars, where the male section of the chorus begins to sing, without counting, the bass ostinato, this continues for 20 measures until the knee ends.
This movement can be used as a representation of minimalism as a whole. It has all of the elements, repetitiveness combined with an accessible sound to normal people to the casual listener. I find it interesting that minimalism challenges its listener not through being grotesque or bizarre but by pushing to bore its listener (I say this half in jest [only half]). Minimalism is an immensely rewarding listening experience because it forces you to listen to music in a different way, the listener must find the macro changes rather than the melodies, harmonies or serial’s completion. Do not discount the difficultly in this, if you are a minimal advocate, because we are culturally educated to listen to catchy micro-structure elements like the rhythm in rap or the melodies in tchaikovsky.