Bernhard Living’s Unanswered Questions (Donemus) continues his tradition of sparse, minimalist electronic compositions inspired by 20th-century composers—this time focusing on the conceptual and structural ideas behind works by Charles Ives. Each of the four tracks offers a thoughtful reinterpretation, distilling Ives’ complexity into ambient soundscapes that blend philosophical depth with musical restraint.
Minimalism meets Ives’ sonic philosophy
Similarly to many of Bernhard Living‘s other works, Unanswered Questions presents a series of minimalistic and lengthy compositions, featuring no more than sparse electronic notes and chords. As with much of his discography, this batch of compositions draws inspiration from twentieth-century composers—in this case, Charles Ives. Each of the four tracks on this record is based on a different work by Ives. According to the album’s Bandcamp description, the inspiration seems to stem first from the conceptual ideas behind these original pieces. Living then incorporates aspects of structure and melody, combining the philosophical with the musical to ensure that the compositions have the depth they deserve.
That may sound like an obvious statement—after all, most artists aim for depth—but the amount of thought that goes into these pieces may not be apparent without the context Living always provides. As I mentioned, the music is highly minimalistic, and even with attentive listening, you might struggle to find a clear sense of direction. So, as I’ve suggested in previous reviews of Living’s work, I urge the reader not to limit themselves to just listening—read what the artist has to say first. It makes a significant difference.
The first piece is based on Ives’ “The Unanswered Question” and, along with the second track, is the one that interests me most. The original work centers around a trumpet that repeatedly poses the same phrase, while a quartet of flutes attempts to respond. The flutes’ answers grow increasingly loud, dissonant, and frantic—as if frustrated by their inability to provide a satisfactory reply. Living reinterprets this structure using two chords to represent the “question,” followed by a silence, and then an “answer.” Unlike Ives’ version, however, in “Composition 2024.18 (Untitled)” the question is briefer and less distinct, and the answer doesn’t grow more chaotic. Instead, it slows down: each answer is longer than the last. The background strings are also replicated via a drone, but unlike Ives’ subtly shifting strings, Living’s drone remains static—unchanging in tone, tempo, timbre, or dynamics.
Where Ives’ use of instrumental timbre brings contrast and clarity, Living’s version feels stripped down. The quiet background remains constant; the question and answer differ only in pitch and duration. This creates a sense of decay and exhaustion. It’s uneasy—not in the tense, dissonant way Ives’ piece is, but in a looser, more fatigued manner. I think it’s executed very well, as it transforms the original work into something new while still maintaining a clear connection to it.
Living channels Ives’ conceptual core ::
“Composition 2024.19 (Untitled)” is my favorite—not just on this album, but possibly among all of Living’s work. It is based on Ives’ “The Cage,” a short piece for piano and voice. Living reimagines the harmonies and melodies from the original as a calm, meditative instrumental piece, omitting the vocal element (the original features a poem, which you can read on the album’s Bandcamp page).
What intrigues me most here is the structure. Ives’ song is divided into distinct sections, and Living retains this idea, drawing each chord out over a longer span. After each progression, a brief silence separates it from the next section, which introduces a new melodic phrase—essentially acting as a conclusion to each part. I tried to determine whether these melodic endings also appear in the original, as the chord sequences clearly do. My assumption is yes, since “The Cage” follows a similar structure, just at a much faster pace—but I couldn’t confirm this definitively.
Living’s piece repeats this pattern five times: a chord progression, followed by a brief ending. These transitions happen at roughly seven, twelve, sixteen and a half, twenty-one and a half, and twenty-five minutes in. I’ve listed them specifically because the sections noticeably shorten as the piece goes on. This makes the progression feel smooth—not like a buildup to a climax, but like a slow narrowing to the final note. In contrast, Ives’ original doesn’t accelerate or condense in this way. This structural change is what makes “Composition 2024.19” so compelling to me—it draws the listener in and gently guides them to the end.
Sparse echoes of Ives’ questions ::
The other two tracks don’t resonate with me as strongly. “Composition 2024.20 (Untitled)” is based on “The Universe Symphony,” a very complex and dense piece by Ives. Living simplifies it drastically, focusing primarily on chords rather than attempting to replicate its chaotic layering. The result feels repetitive—more so than the other tracks—and I haven’t found much to analyze beyond the chord progression.
The final track, “Composition 2025.07 (Untitled),” is the most minimalistic of all. Like the third track, it simplifies the source material—T”one Roads No. 1″—so much that the connection might not be obvious unless you’re told. It features just two tones throughout, but they are the most sonically interesting on the record. According to the album’s page, ring modulation was used to produce these tones, which may explain their brighter, more textured quality. It’s an interesting piece because of these differences, but I wouldn’t consider it a highlight on its own.
To conclude, as always, I enjoy Living’s work because I learn from it. I discover new composers and compositions, I get to experience unconventional approaches to structure and harmony, and I always gain insight into Living’s thought process, which he shares generously. That’s what makes his work both interesting and valuable to me. I hope that these reviews—however small their reach—can help more people discover and appreciate what Living is doing. It’s work that deserves attention.
Bernhard Living is a composer – musician – and curator. He was born in 1948 in Ely, Cambridgeshire, England – and lived for the first part of his life in Greenwich, London. He studied composition with the South African-born composer Stanley Glasser (1966 – 1969) – and philosophy at Middlesex Polytechnic (1983 – 1986).
Bernhard Living’s digitally-based compositions share a formal ‘black square’ minimalist aesthetic – and have taken minimalistic compositional techniques to what he considers to be their logical conclusion. His music is characterised by sparse textures – glacial movement – long periods of silence – maximal repetition – minimal variation – and are reduced to their most basic and essential components. The compositions are examples of what he calls ‘technological lessness’ – and explore what the architect and philosopher Buckminster Fuller called ‘post-industrial ephemeralisation’ – of doing more with less – of doing everything with nothing.
Unanswered Questions is available on Donemus.
