John Cage, 79, a Minimalist Enchanted With Sound, Dies

By ALLAN KOZINN
Published: August 13, 1992

John Cage, the prolific and influential composer whose Minimalist works have long been a driving force in the world of music, dance and art, died yesterday at St. Vincent's Hospital in Manhattan. He was 79 years old and lived in Manhattan.

He died of a stroke, a hospital spokesman said.

The influence of Mr. Cage, who was also a writer and philosopher, spread far beyond the musical world. ...

... He composed for every imaginable kind of instrument, from standard orchestral strings to "prepared" pianos, altered by putting nails, paper, wood, rubber bands or other objects between their strings to make them sound percussive and otherworldly. He wrote electronic and tape works, and works that involved only spoken texts. His often impish scoring, in fact, might include radios, toys, the sounds of water being sipped or vegetables being chopped. ...

... The Sonatas and Interludes for Prepared Piano, an exhaustive, hourlong study of the instrument's capabilities, is the Indian concept of "permanent emotions," including the heroic, erotic, wondrous, mirthful and sorrowful. ...

... In his later years, Mr. Cage was the recipient of many honors. His 60th, 70th and 75th birthdays were celebrated with extensive concert series and tributes around the world, and this year's celebrations anticipating his 80th birthday are well under way. He was elected to the American Academy of Arts and Sciences in 1978. He received the New York Mayor's Award of Honor for Arts and Culture in 1981 and, in 1982, the French Government awarded Mr. Cage its highest honor for distinguished contribution to cultural life, Commandeur de l'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres.

Mr. Cage was a soft-spoken, mercurial man who remained keenly interested in new music. He made himself easily accessible to young composers and critics, and was often seen at concerts in downtown Manhattan. [more ...]

A version of this biography; obituary appeared in print on August 13, 1992, on page A1 of the New York edition.

Correction: August 15, 1992, Saturday Because of an editing error, an obituary on Thursday about the composer John Cage characterized his music incorrectly. Though some of his works could be described as Minimalist and though Mr. Cage influenced the Minimalist movement in music and art, his works defied formal classification and were often intentionally chaotic.

The obituary also rendered the titles of two of Mr. Cage's works incorrectly. The book in which his Norton Lectures were collected was "I-VI"; the work performed by the New York Philharmonic in 1964 was "Atlas Eclipticalis With Winter Music."

Photos: John Cage at Harvard in 1989. (Anh T. Nguyen-Huynh) (pg. A1); John Cage performing at a summer music festival in Pennsylvania in 1965. The sounds Mr. Cage produced came from amplifiers attached to small objects he pushed around on the table. (pg. D21) Chart: "A One-Man Musical Revolution John Cage used everything from silence to radios and rubber bands to develop his new musical vocabularies. Here is a sample of works that illustrate the diversity of his large output. "Imaginary Landscape" No. 1 1939 Sonatas and Interludes for Prepared Piano 1946-48 Suite for Toy Piano 1948 String Quartet 1949-50 "Music of Changes" 1951 "4'33' " 1952 "Radio Music" 1956 Concert for Piano and Orchestra 1957-58 "Fontana Mix" 1958 "Atlas Eclipticalis" 1961 "HPSCHD" (with Lejaren Hiller); 1967-69 "Etudes Australes" 1974-75 "Renga" 1976 "Roaratorio: An Irish Circus on Finnegans Wake" 1979 "Europeras 1-4" 1987-89 (pg. D21)

A Tragedy of Manners at the Movies

By RICHARD SANDOMIR
Published: June 5, 1992

Anarchy reigns at the local multiplex. People talk with impunity. They comment. They narrate. They respond. They exhort. They laugh too hard and sigh too heavily. They slurp sodas, munch on four-course box lunches, jingle their pocket change and crinkle cellophane candy wrappers. These cultural criminals view silence as an opportunity to gossip about their friends, provide their very own dialogue or introduce actors as they appear on screen. [more ...]

A version of this article appeared in print on June 5, 1992, on page C1 of the New York edition.

In a letter to the editor, Matthew Cohen of New Haven, wrote on June 13, 1992:

... The "sensuality of a true theatrical experience that occurs when a community of cooperative viewers join in a darkened room where the only light comes off a silver screen" is a central myth of film critics. However, a community of viewers is also constituted by a shared aural environment -- gasps, groans, muttered comments and even occasional shouts.

Movie theaters have always been noisy. One of the original reasons for adding musical soundtracks to silent films was to drown out the sound of the projector. Many movies, such as "The Rocky Horror Picture Show," "Batman" and "New Jack City," are meaningful to the degree that they evoke reactions from the audience. [more ...]

The Fabricator -- Every Home Should Have One

By Peter H. Lewis
Published: August 15, 1993

Marshall Burns, a physicist, is the author of "Automated Fabrication," which describes new technologies for generating three-dimensional solid objects from computer files. Also called desktop manufacturing, automated fabrication is often described as a 3-D laser printer. ...

Instead of printing a picture of a screw, say, or a valve, a fabricator "prints" an actual, usable screw or valve by beaming light on multiple layers of photosensitive plastic polymers. Printing metal objects is the next frontier. ...

Q: Every home should have one[?]

A: Well, when you think about it, many homes have rooms built for what were once new technologies. We have laundry rooms for washers and dryers. We have garages for automobiles. Homes of the 21st century will have fabricator rooms. You'll use them to satisfy your material needs and desires, from a toothbrush to a diamond brooch. [more ...]

Photo: Marshall Burns

A version of this article appeared in print on August 15, 1993, on page 312 of the New York edition.

Summer in the City Often Means High-Rise Cat Syndrome

By JANNY SCOTT
Published: July 10, 1994

The annals of urban veterinary medicine and the wards of animal hospitals in New York City on hot summer nights offer a weird glimpse of the perils and pressures of big-city life in the late 20th century.

Physicians and others who care for the human body and soul have long recognized certain physical and psychological consequences of urban living. So it seems logical that similar patterns might prevail among the animals that intimately share city dwellers' lives.

Indeed, for pets as for humans, summer in the city can be brutal. For this is the season of high-rise cat syndrome, when pets plunge inexplicably from 20th-story windows. [more ...]

Photo: Sherlock [a large dog] at the window of his master's 27th-floor apartment on Bleecker Street. Summer is the season of high-rise cat syndrome, when pets plunge inexplicably from 20th-story windows, as Sherlock once tried to do. (Chris Maynard for The New York Times)

A version of this article appeared in print on July 10, 1994, on page 121 of the New York edition.

A Breakthrough Judge: What She Always Wanted

By JAN HOFFMAN
Published: September 25, 1992

The views from Pavia & Harcourt's 12th-floor offices in midtown Manhattan are commanding, and the carpeted halls, in soft pastels, are adorned by modern Italian paintings. But Sonia Sotomayor, a partner at the commercial litigation firm, was boxing up her things the other day to take another job. The new one comes with a pay cut, scant carpeting, dingy lighting and a room without a view.

Ms. Sotomayor is thrilled.

"I've gotten letters from people who remember me in grammar school saying that this is what I wanted," she said.

What Ms. Sotomayor has wanted was to be a judge. Next Friday she is to take the oath for a seat on the Federal court of the Southern District of New York, the first Hispanic American to do so. She will also become one of seven women among the district's 58 judges.

But what attaches to her name in legal circles is less her breakthrough status than incredulity: Many of her colleagues say that in a time of skepticism about the quality of judicial appointments, Ms. Sotomayor seems too good to be true. ...

A version of this article appeared in print on September 25, 1992, on page B16 of the New York edition.

Photo: "I'm a down-to-earth litigator, and that's what I expect I'll be like as a judge," said Sonia Sotomayor, who is about to take the oath for a seat on the Federal court of the Southern District of New York. She will be the first Hispanic American and one of only seven women in the district. (Marilynn K. Yee/The New York Times)

Virtual Confusion: Time for a Reality Check

By MICHIKO KAKUTANI
Published: September 25, 1992

In the charming early Federico Fellini film "The White Sheik," a young bride named Wanda, who has arrived in Rome for her honeymoon, wanders off in search of her longtime idol, the White Sheik, the hero of one of those photographed comic strips so popular in Italy in the 1950's. Her head crammed with romantic illusions, Wanda cannot see -- not at first, anyway -- that her glamorous idol is really a fat, vulgar parody of Rudolph Valentino, a small-time actor and buffoon who carelessly lies about his life in order to seduce naive women like herself. She is offered a small part in the comic strip, dresses up as a harem girl, and earnestly plays out her role -- she, alone among the actors, mistakes the illusions of art for real life.

These days, Wanda's inability to distinguish between reality and fiction has become such a common malady that it often feels as though Pirandello were writing the news. Vice President Dan Quayle attacks Murphy Brown, the fictional anchorwoman played by Candice Bergen, for undermining traditional family values by deciding to become a single mother, and in this week's season premier of the show, Murphy Brown strikes back, having already elicited even further condemnations from Mr. Quayle.

President Bush speaks of wanting to see an America that looks a lot more "like the Waltons and a lot less like the Simpsons," and in a subsequent episode of the popular television show, Bart Simpson retorts, "We're just like the Waltons. We're praying for the Depression to end, too."

Even Ross Perot, who mocked Mr. Quayle's remarks about Murphy Brown, has gone on the record as condemning the television character Doogie Howser for having sex with his girlfriend. ...


A version of this article appeared in print on September 25, 1992, on page C1 of the New York edition.

Photos: In Rene Magritte's "Condition Humaine" (1933), now at the Metropolitan Museum of Art for its Magritte show, a landscape painting merges with the reality glimpsed through an artist's window. (National Gallery of Art); Daniel J. Boorstin, author of the 1961 book "The Image." (Jerry Bauer/Random House) (pg.C31) Drawing: From cartoon to unlikely pin-up: Jessica Rabbit. (pg. C1)

In the print version, the article is continued on a second page, which was entitled, When Politicians Debate Fictional Characters, It's Time for a Reality Check.

Wielding Knife and Teutonic Accent, A Doctor From Beyond Treats Brazil

By DIANA JEAN SCHEMO
Published: January 12, 1996

RIO DE JANEIRO, Jan. 11— Fernando de Souza Pinheiro leaned forward in his wheelchair, ready to receive the knife of a German known by the name of Dr. Fritz, who died in a World War I field hospital. ...

... Using no anesthesia, the current Dr. Fritz, otherwise known as Rubens Farias Jr., sliced open Mr. Pinheiro's back to insert the tips of one, then two, and finally three scissors in a space between two vertebrae. The doctor told a reluctant stranger to feel the space by wiggling the scissors. ...

A version of this article appeared in print on January 12, 1996, on page A4 of the New York edition.

Photo: Rubens Farias Jr., who claims to be possessed by the soul of Dr.Fritz, a German physician who died in World War I, treats more than 600 patients who come to see him on some days in Rio de Janeiro. (John Mair Jr./J.B. Pictures, for The New York Times)