Saturday, February 24, 2007

The Art of Listening

If you can see letters, does it necessarily mean that you know how to read? If you can hear sounds, does it necessarily mean that you know how to listen to music?

In relation: do you believe in the necessity of a cultural elite? I do... The following blog relates both ideas.

Last night I attended the Cleveland Orchestra, and as usual I was not dissapointed. While listening to Tchaikovsky's First Piano Concerto, however, I was struck by a thought: Can pop music as we know it provide such an ecstatic listening experience?

If you know me, you can testify to the fact that I am hardly an elitist -- in fact, I often complain about how the Classical Music world often shoots itself in the foot with its perceived elitism and "special" knowledge. It's a type of gnosis, at times, especially where new music is concerned. You may have also heard me complain about my ears -- I don't think they're good enough, as my painful bout in Aural-skills review testified to last semester. That being said, I certainly hear much better than I did ten years ago, much in the same way as I read at a higher level.

And so comes the controversial statement of this blog: "listening" is something that must be TAUGHT, just as reading must be taught, or a new language learned. Most people seem to take great offense at this, saying "how can you judge a piece of music?" or "You're just listening like a musician." or "You can't expect me to like the things a musician likes." or, my favorite response, leveled after I criticized an adult woman for giving Hilary Duff the time of day: "Whatever... As long as it makes me happy." (note: any statement beginning or ending or consisting solely of the word "whatever" can be automatically assumed to be false and ill-informed.)

Is music a matter of taste, then? Well, sometimes. I once heard jazz-saxophonist Brandon Marsalis speak about his love of literature. He said:
"I was writing a song based on an ancient Greek story... my son read it, and said "Dad, this is BOORRRING." I replied without a beat of an eyelash: "Of course it's boring -- you're ten years old and too stupid to understand it."

Thank you, Mr. Marsalis. Music is much the same way: People without musical background have as much business debating its value as illiterates do debating Moral Theology: like it or not, a certain knowledge base is just as necessary to understanding music, as to knowing what the hell is going on in a football game.

There was a time where "common people" had their own music, and the "elite" had theirs. They disagreed in taste and principle, but each realized that the other had a place in society.

Nowadays, of course, something like an "elite culture" is very frowned upon.

Elitism is NECESSARY for a society to remain stable and move forward. The great Polish composer Krzysztof Penderecki said that most of our social ills stem from a failure to respect and cultivate an elitist class. He admits that such a class was bound to corruption (as if the common class were not!!) but concludes by pointing out the obvious: This elitist class has done the science, written the literature, debated the politics, and make all societal advancement possible in the past. To completely do away with it, then, is to set us on a backwards spiral to doom. I think we're well on our way.

Disagree? It seems like being educated and well spoken in our society is now a pariah. Use a "big word," and people will snicker at you. "Elitist." "Snob." It gets worse for black culture: speak coherent English, and you're dubbed as "too white." No wonder their cultural momentum has come to a standstill...

English is beautiful. It should be written and spoken well. Kill the "elitist tongue", and you begin to degrade language. Kill the ability of a society to express its thoughts with good language skills, and you necessarily begin to erode the thoughts themselves... bad words can't represent good, deep, and comprehensive thinking.

That being said, it can only follow that the music of simpletons cannot even begin to express the deepest longings of our hearts. It cannot achieve the very necessary psycho-somatic experience that God intended for music to provide.

I will maintain that if you don't like the symphony, or jazz, then you simply "don't know what you're missing." I know what I can get from pop music. Some of it is quite wonderful, and maitains a place in my heart. Ultimately, it just can't measure up to the greatest accomplishments of classical and jazz music. Do you know the feeling you get when you go to a concert, and know all the songs? Multiply that times 10,000, and you will understand what I felt during the Tchaikovsky last night.

Listening, like reading, takes time. It takes the guidance of a superior, to show you new ways of comprehending and relating with the material. It is quite a bit of work. Both language and music have the capacity to express our depth of the human condition, lifting and comforting the soul in a way that the Britney Spears and Eminems of the world cannot even begin to equal.

If you've read this far, perhaps you still think I'm an elitist.

Maybe it's true. But I'm also more human as a result.

Friday, February 23, 2007

Cleveland is cold. Again. The weather shifts and jumps and plunges, more than enough to fray your nerves and assault your calm. Some mornings I forget I'm still in the midwest, considering the arctic-circle like environment this time of year. It's easy to dream of other times and places here, and wander-lust strikes hard on the coldest days. I've never dreamed of a warm beach, until I got here. I've never desired to see Europe more. Somehow, this feels like a starting platform. Before I leap off, however, I must find a steady footing from which to proceed. In the meantime, a wandering mind can lead to good music, and exile is a good place from which to begin the creative process.

And so I start this e-blogger bit, probably to replace the less muse-friendly environments on facebook and myspace. I hope folks actually read this, and I hope they leave their comments. Lately, I'm more contemplative, more quiet, and more wanting to listen to others. That's a real blessing.