Article on music in the Guardian this week

[trixtah]

Admit it, you're as bored as I am, a piece about modern classical music by Joe Queenan. He discusses the fact that much modern classical music is inaccessible to most listeners, although he takes a few well-deserved swipes at average classical music aficionados, who are nowhere near as sophisticated (in terms of liking a diverse range of music, or knowing much about it) as they like to think they are.

In New York, Philadelphia and Boston, concert-goers have learned to stay awake and applaud politely at compositions by Christopher Rouse and Tan Dun. But they do this only because these works tend to be short and not terribly atonal; because they know this is the last time in their lives they'll have to listen to them; and because the orchestra has signed a contract in blood guaranteeing that if everyone holds their nose and eats their vegetables, they'll be rewarded with a great dollop of Tchaikovsky and Mendelssohn.

I wouldn't even call myself an "average" fan of classical music, and I know sweet f-a about it, but I do get sick of people thinking Nigel Kennedy is an amazing violinist (no, he's an excellent violinist who likes to look like a scruff - ooh, so bold) and that The Four Seasons is the best classical piece evah. He also hasn't much time for the idea that what is weird and outre when it's first invented always becomes old-hat and part of the canon somewhat later. Of course, though, it's often true - Haydn, Beethoven and Stravinsky nearly killed audiences when they first unleashed their stuff on the world - but I'm not there with Stockhausen yet (despite his undoubted influence on music I love), for example, much less Schoenberg.

There are some modern classical pieces that are fab, but do they find their way onto programmes very often? No, the selection is generally "greatest hits" pap (although I do like a lot of the greatest hits) or else it's ostentatiously modernist or "new music", which succeeds in being unrhythmic and atonal. It's similar to what a lot of people think about modern art. Some people are never going to see the point of Pollock, Mondrian, Miro or Rothko. But they have rhythm, form, technique, colour and wit in their works. I personally find Mondrian too square, and I don't like Picasso, but I see what others see in them. I will never see the point of a "multimedia work" which consists of film of a woman cutting herself, with the detritus from the "performance" (blades, needles, scapels, bloody gauze) displayed, and vile music as part of the piece (thank you Tate Modern for forever inflicting that on my brain).

Art (including music) is created to evoke emotion, and sometimes thought. If all it does is evoke the emotions of being pissed off and bored, and thoughts of escape, it may have worked for the artist, but not for me. If a piece has no rhythm, no harmonious sounds and no beginning, middle and end, then it's not going to work for most. Does that mean it has to be in common time and the key of C major? Of course not. Part of what can make a piece interesting is dissonance, unusual tunings and unusual rhythms. Think of how "atonal" (as it used to be characterised) Indian music has influenced modern rock. Does every piece written need to be accessible to everyone? Again, of course not. What works for me most certainly doesn't work for everyone else. But modern composers who whine about "lazy audiences" should get a grip and realise that most people do not like to feel like there is no point to a piece. Sure, there will always be a place for self-indulgent wank, but only appealing to those who like to look cooler than everyone else, who can appreciate a piece on a purely intellectual basis, or who actually find a collection of random sounds worthy in itself is always going to result in limited audiences.

There may be some formula to figure this out - if 5-20% of people listen and say "it's fab" or "it's ok", then there's obviously an exploitable niche there, even if it's not going to be part of classical music's greatest hits. If it's less than 1% saying that - "lazy" or "uneducated" audiences and all - then the appeal is strictly limited. I do think it's important to have that pool of random noise-makers, though, and those who can access them, because they often inspire developments elsewhere. I can't listen to much pure musique concrete (unless it's extremely rhythmic), but I love that element in more tuneful music I listen to. A good quote from the Stockhausen article:

"Think of Stockhausen as a fashion designer who creates clothes in their purest form; clothes made for the catwalk rather than life. These clothes will then be diluted down by another designer and made wearable for the masses."

Anyways, in the way of a polemic, Queenan was a little broad in painting his picture - I like some pieces by some of the composers he disparages - Cage, for one (although only one of his, that I know of). And much modern classical music these days is not modernist and/or atonal. One of the Guardian bloggers put up a riposte to the piece, and made some good points (composers like Ravel, Bartok, Britten, Stravinsky et al have most definitely entered the classical canon, but I'd also argue they are at least tuneful - yes, I know, what does that mean? - in the main, thus more accessible). Some interesting remarks are in the comments. I do wish the happy medium of sufficiently challenging, yet sufficiently accessible, were more often achieved in modern classical, or it were better publicised. I admit to probably unjustified wariness when I see a programme that talks about "avant garde" and "challenging". I'll be nipping off to Paul Smith for my wardrobe, then (rather than YSL), while reading this more upbeat piece by Martin Kettle (one of the Guardian classical music reviewers) a few years ago:

The modernist tide has gone out, though parts of western Europe are still mopping up. Even here, though, it is no longer anathema for composers to embrace popularity. The influence of American composers, for whom popularity is not a dirty word, and of composers from national traditions that survived the modernist onslaught (the Argentinian school, for instance) is perhaps a way forward.

Comments

[weibchenwolf.livejournal.com]

I like to know there are people willing to try new things; and perhaps stupid "it will never work" things. Even if it turns out crap, they might push the boundaries a little and break themselves, or others, out of the box their brains are in.

That doesn't mean I necessarily like the results. And I tend to reserve my 'respect' in this area for someone who is exploring new 'spaces' for the interest of exploration. Those who do it to get attention, or because they're purely pretentious pricks I don't respect so much. Of course, they probably have just as much chance of breaking boundaries.

Would I pay money to listen to experimental stuff? Probably not. I like to think I haven't wasted my money. And unless whatever it is appeals to me, then I feel I've wasted my money.

Having said that, I have some albums that I wouldn't ever call experimental that didn't appeal to me on first listening, but now are in my "favourites" list. With my own narrow attitude I'm probably not helping the experimental world, and I may be missing out on some good things.

Or not.

Well, that got rambling. I'm not even sure there was a point there anymore.

[trixtah.livejournal.com]

Oh yeah, we need the people who take risks to show us the possibilities of what can be done. But yeah, I don't think we should have to automatically bestow praise when the risk doesn't pay off. I do get pissed off by certain types saying that people who don't like certain types of art are just "lazy". Grah.

As for stuff that you don't necessarily like on first (or even 10th) listening, but grow into, word. I've suddenly "gotten" Dark Side of the Moon some time in the last 5 years. Before then I thought it was over-blown pretentious emo wank. Heh.

So, yeah, it is good to push our usual boundaries occasionally, and that applies to every area of life. But I don't think it's necessary to live entirely outside them. :-)

[pretentiousgit.livejournal.com]

I'm on my way out the door, but ... I actually really like some of the stuff the abjectionists did. Possibly not the overly Lacanian group, which you're totally describing and sounds like Maria or Vito Acconci's stuff, but I really enjoyed Janine Antoni's "Gnaw" and "Lick and Lather." Sure, some art is meant to be beautiful, but more commonly it seems to be the extreme detritus of the now, all crumpled up into a ball marked Art.

That being said, I was raised by about the most classical type of figurative artist you can find in Canada, so.

[trixtah.livejournal.com]

I would kind of disagree that art is more commonly - even these days - the "extreme detritus" stuff - I think more-conventionally aesthetically pleasing art is still the most common kind of production.

Of course, I have a big bias in that respect. With every kind of art I experience, I want to have a pleasurable response to it. Intellectual appreciation just doesn't cut it for me. I like my stories to have happy or at least non-miserable endings. I like melodies in my music. I like the art to look good when on display. Of course, it's preferable if the work has some meaning as well, but that's secondary for me.

Artists like Goya or Dore had unpleasant themes to some of their work, but it was beautifully rendered. Yer Pollocks don't exactly display their draftsmanship, but they do wonderful things with rhythm, line (drips!) and colour. So, yes, I like aesthetics, and I know this means I don't have a true artistic sensibility, which I tend to interpret as valuing any kind of response elicited by the work - it requires more mental processing. Whereas I don't really care how well-executed something may be if I think it's ugly.

Which doesn't mean I think any less of people who do have that particular kind of artistic sensibility - as I mentioned, I think it's valuable to have people who can access that level, and hopefully translate some of it back to shake up some of the more mainstream offerings.