New Age Movement

There was a time when the fusion of two musical fields was a bold adventure. In the 1950s, Gunther Schuller did it with jazz and atonal music; the '60s gave us Miles Davis and jazz-rock; Philip Glass did it in the '70s with rock and Minimalism. Today, the fusion of musical styles is no longer bold or even adventuresome. In fact, new-age musicians are routinely crossbreeding music to the extent that today's purists might be accused of living in the past.

In a packed room in this city's fashionable Aoyama district, the blond took a deep breath, removed his tortoise-shell glasses and seemed to enter a trance. Moments later, his face reddened. His body convulsed. Voila! Richard Lavin, a chirpy Hawaiian, was now an ageless entity named Ecton who spoke in a British-sounding accent and reeled off otherworldly advice. To one forlorn woman who asked whether she should quit a boring job, he counseled: "Don't float away, but float away if you want.

Irina Matushenko braved a dirty overnight train to travel here from her Belarussian town more than 500 miles away. And she came not to shop for sausage or potatoes, but to search for spiritual enlightenment. Like thousands of people from all over the now-fragmented Soviet Union, the fur-clad, middle-aged translator found her way to an unassuming shop three miles from the Kremlin claiming to sell nothing less than a whole new way of life.

Charles Thomas Cayce, 46, a scholarly man dressed in a dark suit, white shirt and conservative tie, seemed a bit out of place at the Whole Life Expo, a freewheeling New Age "psychic fair" that drew nearly 30,000 seekers of cosmic attunement and self-fulfillment to Los Angeles last weekend. "This Expo-type thing makes me nervous," admitted the grandson of Edgar Cayce, the late psychic known as the "sleeping prophet."

Suppose that your psyche is on the fritz and your guru has gone on vacation. Is there anywhere to turn? Yes, if you have a copy of the New Age Telephone Book. Gurus, channelers, shamans, psychics, healers, numerologists, ghost hunters and even plumbers and electricians abound in the 160-page directory, which was published in Hollywood and is being distributed free at stores throughout the Los Angeles area that cater to the New Age culture.

Anthony J. Robbins, a Del Mar motivational guru and the king of late-night infomercials, was summoned to Camp David, Md., recently for a consultation with President Clinton, the White House confirmed Monday. Reports of the Robbins-Clinton meeting was the talk of Washington after talk-show impresario Rush Limbaugh joked about it on his daily show. Robbins' office also acknowledged the Dec. 30 meeting on Monday, but beyond that, offered a terse no comment.

Northern Arizona's red rock country is the scene of a growing dispute between the U.S. Forest Service and followers of the New Age movement, who say laws governing the use of public land restrict their religious freedom. The controversy involves the building of medicine wheels, sweat lodges and other New Age symbols on federal land near Sedona, 120 miles north of Phoenix. Devotees of the New Age believe in American Indian ideas of achieving harmony and balance in life, and respect for the Earth.

The popularity of the 20-year-old New Age movement is difficult to quantify, but indicators of its widening acceptance in mainstream culture are readily available. Booming sales of books, records and natural foods show that many Americans embrace alternative ideas about health, the afterlife, extraterrestrials, psychology and spirituality. By one estimate, New Age items account for $13 billion a year in sales.

If China weren't a largely atheistic country, it would be tempting to describe Yanni as something of a musical messiah. He of flowing mane, ethereal strains and critical stains arrived in the Chinese capital last week on the final stop of a triumphal swing through the world's most populous country. After two sold-out shows at an arena here, the keyboardist is set to make history tonight as the first Western artist in modern times to perform in Beijing's historic Forbidden City.

It took nerve for Brian Enright to bring his crystals-cherishing, bliss-following New Age magazine to Orange County, an area usually regarded as more hospitable to John Wayne than Shirley MacLaine. The only magazine of its kind in the county, Orange County Resources has sometimes faced an uphill battle, dealing with a fragmented community of New Age advocates and conservative Christians who have urged distributors to ban the magazine.