An Interview with John Cage (1991)
by Alan Anderson
John Cage interview.pdf

I was working on a project called ARTISTS WHO MEDITATE, and Cage had been the most receptive of all the famous meditators that I had contacted. Rather than being filled with self-concern, Cage was full of human obligation: if someone wrote to him, or called him, it was simply a matter of course that he should respond. It was part of living and making art non-intentionally. He would even allow his correspondence to interfere with his work. One might find that a bit extreme, but there you have it.
Although Cage was not a mediator, he directly applied the essence of meditation practice to his work. He studied Zen Buddhism with D.T. Suzuki, one of the foremost teachers of Buddhism in the West, but toward the end of his life, Cage would shift his study to that of Tibetan Buddhism, in a form called Dzogchen. These teachings, which are about ego and its effect on perception, were then reformulated by Cage, the essence of which can be seen in his work and writing. He would speak of discipline, for instance, as a way to sober and quiet the mind, so that it was in accord with what happens. He would speak of how it was essential for the artist to have the ability to place full attention on every detail, and how to do so with an attitude of non-intention, remaining open to what is — receptive and free from bias. This discipline of mind is identical to that of Buddhist meditation and Cage found these qualities necessary in order to fully appreciate the indivisibility of art and life.

When I received his reply to my request for an interview in the mail, I was quite amazed. Cage had written to me in person, as follows:

Am interested in being of any help I can in your work if you wish me to.
But I have no meditation except my daily scheduled work which begins with the watering of the plants, answering the telephone and the mail and continues with my music, writing with words (mostly mesostics), and/or graphic work (drawing if at home; watercolors or etching in special studios), and ends often with a game of chess. I would prefer a live interview.

When I wrote to him again almost a year later to set up an appointment, he wrote:

I am involved in non-meditation (nothing special). You may call me when you are in NYC.
Cordially, John Cage

(Well, if this interview didn't come to pass, at least I had his autograph!) Our meeting did occur, in his sky-lit apartment, filled with houseplants, and he was so gracious and gentle that I felt completely comfortable — no mean feat considering the disparity in the shadows the two of us had cast over twentieth century music. We talked for over two hours, and he probably would have gone on for the rest of the afternoon if I didn't stop the interview, as his inscrutability was wearing me down!