De Musica, Part II

               In his Fundamentals of Music, Boethius divides those engaged in music into three categories:  those who perform music, those who composer music, and those who contemplate music.  It is only this last category that to Boethius deserves the title of musician.  It also works as a sort of social stratification, and in this sense truly shows its derivation from the Greeks.

 

                And while I do not agree, necessarily with the socio-cultural aspects of this musical caste system, it does have not only some interest educational aspects, but also shows a striking parallel to today’s musical elitist culture (which will be discussed later).

 

In learning music, the path of one’s education does go from performer to composer to philosopher, that is if one ever reaches beyond the first step.  We start out young learning an instrument, and learning some basic theory along the way.  Eventually, we learn how music is constructed, more advanced theory, and learn how to compose.  Finally, with all appreciation of these aspects we learn how to think about music.  For most students, though, the third step is not taught.  As articulated previously, we as musicians are very rarely, if ever, given the tools for this.

 

                I can appreciate not wanting to spoon-feed  knowledge to people, but a basic discussion of Kant and Hegel in relation to 19th Century European Art Music would seem a given, but not even that is done in some cases (my case).

 

                We, as educators, should strive in training young musicians to make them true “musicians” in the Beothian sense of the term: to possibly coin a phrase, the performer-philosopher. 

De Musica

I’m not advocating a return to the cultish aspects of Pythagoras, or saying that music is some mystical religion or occult teaching.  But rather that philosophy and aesthetics as related to music have lost their way, at least in regards to how we teach music.

 

In most other disciplines, they teach some basic philosophy course that lays out many aspects of it: philosophy of science, education, math, history; but no such course for music is standard.  We don’t even routinely teach aesthetics, something that is at the very heart of music.  (Now granted, this is from my own limited experience, but these are things I strongly feel should be standard in a musician’s education.)  It is part of training a true musician.  Not just one who plays or composes, but one who truly contemplates and strives to understand music.

 

We teach many of the tools:  theory to understand its construction, history to understand its place, but we need philosophy and aesthetics to bring these together.  We do not teach this.  Many courses might touch on the periphery, and students might talk about it, but if we give student two of these tools, theory and history, why don’t we give them the third, philosophy?

 

Towards a Unification

 

                String Theory seeks to give physics the mathematical tools to finally unify Einstein’s General Relativity Theory of gravity with the Standard Model of Quantum Mechanics, and music is in need of something similar.

 

                Music is a fractured discipline.  Not only do we have specialization by discipline (performance, composition, jazz or classical, theory, musicology), but we are still very music culturally biased (Western, non-Western, and every other culture on Earth).  We are all under the umbrella of music, but are we really taught to thing about music as a whole?

 

                Universals get a bad wrap in today’s culturally sensitive world.  Fears of globalization and disappearing cultures have made us keen on preserving what makes our world a wonderfully varied and unique place.  But to truly reach a unified approach to music, even with philosophy, we must first reach a unified description of music in the world, and this would HAVE to include all cultures aesthetic approach to music, non-Western theory, and how music functions culturally.  These are all things that Ethnomusicology has begun to equip us with.

 

                Once we being to understand music in the world at large more completely, we can begin to build a more complete philosophical and aesthetic base of music.  We examine what are those universals that can be found in music theories, performance rituals, cultural perception, cultural function, and others.

 

                Music is NOT a universal language, at least not yet.

 

                When we say that, many of us are thinking of only Western music, but even in Western Civilization it’s not universal.  Play a Mozart symphony for ten different people and odds are you’ll get at least five different reactions, if not ten.  The only thing universal about music is that every culture on Earth has developed some form of music.

 

                That in itself, though, is a compelling fact.

 

                Working from there we can begin to examine the philosophical underpinnings of music in culture.

 

                This is why the crucial first step in this process is to teach philosophy and aesthetics alongside theory and history.  And it is something that should be done at the undergraduate level in college.  We unify all aspects of Western music first with the proper teaching of philosophy and aesthetics to students.  Really a re-unification since to the ancient Greeks and even afterwards, this was crucial to one’s education. 

                After that, we can begin to make strides to unify the study of all musics into our schools, and not just some one semester class of “World Musics.”

Harmonices Mundi

  Music is in the world and the world is music. 

 

  For many years philosophers wrote about music as an integral part of the mathematical sciences along with geometry, arithmetic, and astronomy.  Music was described as having its theoretical basis in the ratios of intervals and from there building its way to theory of notes, scales, modes, and harmony.

 

  Along with this also came the harmony of the spheres; that the mathematical ratios of intervals first described by Pythagoras can be observed in the celestial bodies in our universe.

 

  Even Johannes Kepler when setting out his theories, which would become laws, of planetary motion references it.  One of his books is called Harmonices Mundi, or The Harmony of the Worlds.

  But just as Kepler’s astrology was divorced from astronomy, so was his Harmony of the World relegated to the scientific refuse pile of the occult.

  Now, though, we have String Theory, which at least from its metaphorical terms seems to bring its back to the concept of music and science coexisting in nature: the metaphysical, the natural, the musical; the Music of the Spheres.  Or as Brian Greene likes to call it, “The Cosmic Symphony.”

  Setting aside String Theory for the moment, let us consider a more terrestrially bound thesis: music can be found all around us.  It is one that 20th Century composer John Cage exemplified in 4’33”.  Now whether you consider Cage genius or fraud is a question of personal aesthetic taste, but for my taste, and this thesis, we shall consider him the former.

  As I write this I am sitting in a room in supposed complete silence, but is there truly such a thing?  What Cage was aiming for in 4’33”, at least in my view, was for us to consider the sounds around us; the music that occurs when we truly listen.  Music is not just organized noise.  Music is the sound of the world around us, both natural and man-made.

  We only don’t consider it such because it lacks the rational, logical, organization hand of a composer.  Well, Cage gave us that with 4’33”.

  But what about in a more abstract sense?  Our lives, our culture, even our many religions are filled with musical metaphors or terminology related to music.  We talk of things being in harmony or discord.  Something is like a symphony, or someone is like a conductor.  Granted, we also like our war metaphors, or comparing things to famous historical events or figures, but music allows us a more transcendent metaphor not only because of its status as an art, but also because, even without knowing it, we still associate music with the cosmos.  We still carry a cultural memory of the Music of the Spheres.

 

From many religious creation myths to more contemporary examples like J.R.R. Tolkien’s Middle-Earth creation story, Ainulindalë (The Music of the Ainur), music is a powerful force, one that can be seen as providing the bridge between the sacred and the profane, heaven and earth.  “Life has a melody…A rhythm of notes which become your existence once played in harmony with God’s plan,” extols the Number Six cylon to Gaius Baltar in the re-imagined Battlestar Galactica.  It may be a fictional television show, but it is a popular and powerful metaphor upon which an entire cosmological musical metaphor is built upon.

 

Music is in the Universe, and the universe is music.

Music is math made audible.

Music is the universe made audible.

Jai Guru Deva Om

 So this weekend I saw Julie Taymore’s newest film Across the Universe.  A movie musical love story set to works by The Beatles taking place in the late 1960s in the U S.  The history of the ’60s in the US, while somewhat romanticized by nostalgia of a time that, despite the social strife, was a time when people actually fought for what they believed in, is truly one of great upheaval and unrest.  The film depicts both the political and racial tensions in the nation.  It pulls in allegorically many major events of the time:  race riots (one character flees from Detroit, most likely the 1967 riots that was one of worst in US history), and both peaceful demonstrations and the eventual violent turn by the anti-war movement.  The title choice, Across the Universe, is an interesting one I think.  The repeated line of the chorus, after the mantra that is the title of this post, is “Nothing’s gonna change my world,” I believe has a lot to say about the history of the 60s political movement, and in extension, our current society.

Now, “Across the Universe” was written by John Lennon in 1968, just as the anti-war movement was starting to reach its heights.  But as the song is used in the movie (and is juxtaposed with “Helter Skelter”), during a climatic protest scene in which our male lead, trying to reach his more radicalized girlfriend through the crowd, the line “Nothing’s gonna change my world” drifts up between lines of “Helter Skelter,” and we understand Taymore’s choice of title, the line is a prophetic comment on the anti-war movement.  The solemn tone of the song is the funeral of American revolutionary spirit that died when the 60s anti-war movement would eventually failed amidst increasing government policing and incidents like the Kent State Shootings.  The violent turn taken by some groups, like the Weather Underground linked above, also led to a disillusion by many who saw a betrayal of the peace and love spirit of the 60s, incidents like this at UW-Madison led to the collapse of what had been growing support among more of the general public for the movement.

In the end, nothing did change our world.  Despite and unpopular war, one of which had a dubious beginning to American escalation, it was only the collapse of the American defense that led to the pull out from Viet Nam.  The anti-war movement achieved nothing except the death of the spirit of public protest of governmental policies.  The American Imperial agenda that had been growing since the end of World War II, and especially the growth of the military-industrial complex (as used by Dwight D. Eisenhower in his farewell speech when leaving office), had successfully entrenched itself into America’s political landscape and has grown stronger with ever subsequent American led invasion, American backed coup or insurrection in other nations, from Korea right down to our current scrap in Iraq.  The failure of the 60s anti-war movement has made it harder to organize large scale efforts against the Iraq War here in the United States, though worldwide the movement is quite large.

In the end, many people feel like the beast is too large to take down.  It would take a widespread change in political culture to get rid of the of the ‘military-industrial complex.’  It’s hard to pinpoint where the beginnings of America‘s imperial ambition began, some say the War of 1812, while others point to the Spanish-American War.  There is no doubt that post World War II though, America had become addicted to the heroin that is being a World Superpower, and even though that in today’s society military power does not equal true power, America is still looking for a military fix to prop up its status.  Through out the last fifty years, it has been the constant military readiness that has fueled America‘s economic rise, and now those corporations see the danger in today’s world where wars are fought not by men in the field, but by bankers and accountants, and stock brokers.  Money has always equaled power, but now they’ve just cut out the middle man of the military.

You say you want a revolution?  Well you know, we all want to change the world.  I don’t have any answers, and there are so many things wrong with the way our government works.  Politicians are bought and sold by lobbyists, though it’s all “campaign contributions.”  Right.  We can’t get health care reform because the HMOs buy off enough congressmen to block it.  “Stay the course” has kept us in Iraq, along with American pride, never give up, never surrender.  Smart businessmen know when to cut their losses and dump a losing stock, or in the case of Time Warner, AOL.  But as Bush’s early business career attest to, he went from one failed company to another, though somehow always ended up with a high position at the company his was sold too.  Savvy.

So I’ve seemed to have strayed from the initial topic of Julie Taymore’s latest film, or have I?  I do believe that many of these things were the intended overtones of the film.  Commentary on our current situation and the parallels between Viet Nam and Iraq are a dime a dozen today, but I believe the true subtle genius of Taymore’s story and title choice is showing us just how much the failure of the anti-war movement against the government has had a sustained impact on our culture.  The movement was truly on the verge of open revolution at times, but was stopped before it got that far (though the fact that some did take up arms as it was faltering shows the dedication of a few towards that end).

Now, I must tread carefully, or else Homeland Security might be beating down my door, I do not support violent revolution.  That is only the last act of desperation after peaceful, political options have all been exhausted.  Though that is just the trajectory that the 60s took: after the peaceful demonstrations had failed, after many instances of government violence towards its citizenry, those left, and most radicalized, took up arms, and the rest is history.  The movement withered upon the Tree of Liberty, showing sometimes that it cannot be refreshed by the blood of riots and tyrants.  Political insurgency is such a tricky thing, because to one side it is freedom fighting, to the other it is terrorism.  Your view depends on which side of the looking glass you are on, for what were the American revolutionaries but terrorist against the British crown?

Through the looking glass“, or “through a glass, darkly,” it is all based on perception.  And too many of us are afraid to look in the mirror for fear of what might be looking back at us.