In the beginning (or thereabouts) music was believed
to be the sole property of the gods. The
ancient Greeks and Chinese believed in the Harmony of the Spheres, a music
created by the movement of celestial bodies.
They understood it to be inaudible to man and, therefore, audible only
to the gods.
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From this... |
With the evolution of human thought, that “inaudible”
music was rendered audible by artificial means – the invention of instruments
and the formalised art of singing. The
church, being that element of human existence closest to God, took possession
of this music, and established a system of notation which allowed it to be
disseminated among those who were able to read it. It was now the exclusive property of religious
leaders and priests – the only people educated in the ways of musical notation –
as well as those ordained by them to practice the art of music.
With the Reformation in the early 16th
century, the new Protestant churches were defined almost as much by their music
as their religious beliefs, while around a century later and with the growing
concept of statehood above and beyond religious affiliation, music became
associated with royalty. The 18th century saw wealthy families and
courts using music as an outward symbol of wealth, ordering their servant
musicians to produce on demand music to satisfy their needs as a unified group. That all changed with the outbreak of war in
1914. The established political order disintegrated. Great emperors, kings, tsars and rulers were
seen as fallible, God was seen as impotent, and religion and aristocratic
lineage were seen as irrelevant.
What has happened to music, so long associated with
gods, sacred rites, the church and the ruling elite, has been one of the most
intriguing and enduring legacies of the First World War.
Stylistically, we know it became irredemably
fragmented. The comfortable – if dubious
and misleading – categorisation of music into stylistic periods could no longer
hold sway. A promotional leaflet sent to
me to be edited a few days ago spoke of a performance of Gershwin’s Piano
Concerto as “a must for lovers of contemporary music”. When I suggested that this was wrong, I was
given the line that music fell into the categories of Baroque, Classical,
Romantic and Modern/Contemporary, so Gershwin was clearly a contemporary composer. Similarly we see people struggling in vain to
box up the huge diversity of music since the First World War with such
pointless labels as Modern, Post-Modern, Twentieth-Century, all of which are as
meaningless as they are demeaning to the music itself. The fact is, there is no common, blanket
stylistic feature which links music written since 1918; and while I would argue
that this is also the case with all music ever written, I can see certain elements
which might lead some people to think that there is some superficial and vague connection
between composers living in previous eras.
However, if we are still scrabbling around in the dark
trying to fulfil our sterile desire to categorise music written since 1918, the
passage of time has allowed us to look back and see one very definite change
which has unified music since then. And
that is its dissemination. Not so much
the way it has been disseminated – although the advent of recording and
broadcast, evolving with alarming rapidity in that 100 year period – as to whom
it is disseminated. (Although I readily
agree that the two are inseparably linked.)
Once fit only for the gods, then fit only for the
church, then fit only for the god-like rulers of nations, and then fit only for
a tiny elite distinguished by accident of birth, music is now the possession of
everyone. Each of us is, in effect, our
own god, our own church, our own ruler and our own master. Suddenly music, once accessible only to a
tiny minority, is accessible to everyone regardless of faith, social status, wealth,
race or education, and that has had a profound effect on what music actually
is.
There was a time when music served a purpose. Once people started to write music, rather
than simply acknowledge its existence as a natural phenomenon, the church led
the way in defining music and its function. Composers wrote to glorify a god or
satisfy specific patrons. The church no longer
leads. Where once society followed and
obeyed church rulings, church now follows and obeys society’s demands. That is why issues such as gay marriage,
abortion, social equality have become so divisive, with those who hark back to
the days when the church’s teachings held sway finding it impossible to accept
the contrary will of society. So it is
with music. Our church music is, by and
large, a feeble, wishy washy and witless imitation of what is popular in
society at large, and if churches commission new music, it remains firmly
within the walls of the specific church which commissioned it, and rarely ventures
out into the wider public domain. For many,
the church and its music are an irrelevance, a peripheral element to society.
Our rulers are no longer rich, wealthy, god-fearing
men born to their roles, but clumsy, thoughtless and often ill-educated politicians
who see ruling as a career choice rather than an ordained state. They have neither the interest in nor the knowledge
of music, and generally leave it well alone, happy to bend to the will of
society when it comes to selecting music for state occasions. Hence the cheap and nasty Canadian manufactured
songs which adorn the Singapore National Day Parades and the Revolutionary
songs from Catholic France which get the Malaysians so stirred with national
pride every August.
So with neither our religious nor our temporal leaders
showing leadership in music, it is left to each of us individually to do with
it as we wish. In this, the technological
revolution which has allowed us free and easy access to music whenever we want
and wherever we are, has only helped us take possession of a once exclusive and
elusive art form. And with that has come
a complete change in attitudes and understanding.
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...to this |
Ask anyone to define music, and they will instead
offer their emotional response to it. The quality or value of a piece of music is
determined, not by others, but by each of us individually. If we like it, it’s good; if we don’t it’s
bad. There are as many different musical
tastes and preferences as there are people on the planet, and no one musical
work can ever stand out as exceptional, because we now engage with music as individuals
not as members of society. There can
never be another St Matthew Passion or
Beethoven Ninth Symphony simply because we do not share music en masse nor do we accept the validity
of somebody else’s view above our own. Generations
of music students have been taught that Bach, Mozart and Beethoven are great
composers. Who is there now to teach the
next generation who our next great composers are? The best we can hope is that a YouTube video will
go viral – and as nobody stomachs YouTube videos of more than a few minutes’
duration, the hope of something really great emerging through that channel is a
forlorn one.
With this individualisation of music, we have a fundamental
change in what music is. No longer can
it serve a function or inspire us collectively.
Instead, each piece is accepted only on its own terms by an
individual. Writing music for a common
body – the church, the nation – is no longer relevant. The days of great composers and great music
are over; in its place comes music for personal gratification and
stimulation.
I am not sure that one is better than the other, but
like music, we will all have our individual views on this.
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