My past experience was not to ‘meddle’ with the material, but use my concentration as a guide to what might transpire. I mentioned this to Stockhausen once when he had asked me what my secret was. ‘I don't push the sounds around.’ Stockhausen mulled this over, and asked: ‘Not even a little bit?’1


“Don't push. And don't worry.”2


I do not push. 
I do not force the music into a specific territory.
Play, wait, and let the sounds grow into something, into each other,
let the music emerge.
Just trust in the material and in the others.
Listen. Be patient. Ok? Timing! Trust.


In fact, I do push.
Whenever I feel a desire to stir things around a little,
start something, open a door.
Whenever I am bored. Too bored to sit and just listen.
Start something, wait, see what happens.
It is like pushing a home made go-cart from the top of a hill
You start something, want something to happen,
without really knowing what … although …
Rattling, wobbling wheels fast down the hill …
… potentially dangerous …
It also means having a lot of trust and responsibility in others.

Pushes, if they are required, need a certain sensitivity.
Nudge: a mild push.


Morton Feldman, “Crippled Symmetry.” in Give My Regards to Eight Street, p. 142-143

Tony Buck, interviewed in The Guardian, February 20, 2015