Is music organized sound? And if not, then what is it?

Merriam-Webster says that it's "the science or art of ordering tones or sounds in succession, in combination, and in temporal relationships to produce a composition having unity and continuity."

That definition is pretty similiar in its essence to "organized sound," which is what I learned back in some music appreciation or theory course a couple of decades ago. And it's a pretty good definition, in that it covers most music.

But it doesn't cover all music, and music that challenges and dances around the "organized sound" definition was on full display at the 701 Center for Contemporary Art on July 27 in the "Several Silences" concert.

The concert featured Jason Brogan (electric guitar, varia), Nathan Koci (cornet, varia), Sam Sfirri (melodica, varia), Mark So (lap steel, varia) and Ron Wiltrout (percussion, varia) in works by Brogan, So, Sfirri, Michael Pisaro, Antoine Beuger and Manfred Werder.

I know what you're thinking: What's with the pretentious "varia" credit by every performer's name? Well, when Koci is called upon to make sounds by creasing a piece of paper and Brogan is called upon at various times to use a cell phone, get up and walk around, and crumple leaves, "varia" seems like a reasonable descriptor.

Is the sound of leaves crumpling "music"? What if the crumpling leaves are the foundation of a composition that also makes use of a bowed metal key and a cornet resonating in a high-pitched distorted bliss as it's dragged in a circle over a wooden floor? And do long periods of silence -- interrupted only by the coughs and shuffling of the audience and the sounds of passing cars and trains -- constitute music?

These are not new questions, of course: Ever since John Cage's 4'33" -- in which a pianist sits silent at a piano for exactly four minutes and thirty-three seconds -- musicians and composers with a conceptual bent have asked these questions. Silence, drones and microtonal music have a long tradition encompassing not only Cage but also such pioneers as LaMonte Young, David Lang and others, and there is also a full tradition of composers using found objects as instruments.

New or not, the questions still resonate both intellectually and emotionally. The act of listening is heightened in an environment of near-silence, and every sound -- intentional or not -- becomes part of the performance.

So, the music in "Several Silences" was not unprecedented in either its conceptual roots or its originality. But it was beautiful and thought-provoking all the same -- and one more reason while arts supporters should feel lucky to have the 701 Center for Contemporary Art around.