Audience-to-Artist Conversion

Freeman is driven by his desire that “everyone could share in this experience [composition] that I find so fulfilling” because he believes that “all of us are musically creative and have something interesting to say.” However, he laments that so few actually compose music despite increased music consumption. He cites the NEA 2008 Survey of Public Participation in the Arts, which found that only 12.7% of American adults play a musical instrument at least once each year. Freeman reasonably assumes (although it was not part of the survey) that those who compose would be fewer.

What Freeman does not seem to note is that this is the highest rate of participation among the performing arts. Only 2.1% of adults participate in dance related activities in a given year and merely .8% participate in non-musial theater (.9% participate in musical theatre). Individual visual arts fare little better with only, for example, 9% who paint/draw/sculpt, although the overall participation in visual arts appears to be higher with 6% in pottery/jewelry, 13.1% weaving/sewing and 14.7% photography/movies. Furthermore, creative writing holds at 7% despite the fact that most adults can at least compose in English.

What is it that keeps an audience member from becoming a participant? Given the statistics for other, non-musical artistic endeavors, the lack of participation in music appears to not merely be an issue of being too difficult for the layman to approach. Most Americans can effectively use the English language and understand what many words mean and yet they do not use this knowledge toward creative or artistic ends.

Denatured Musical Language

And yet, Freeman’s solution to increase audience-to-composer conversion was to simply denature composition into a pseudo-visual/auditory task of piecing together blocks of musical gestures in a web-based platform called Piano Etudes. The approach resembles Earle Brown’s Available Forms I. However, the ‘composer’ need not read music, given that all of the musical fragments are represented visually by pseudo-registral/durational notation.

Western musical notation has been a long time in development. However, the more-or-less standardized notation of the modern era is hardly an obvious choice for the music it is employed to represent. For example, most of our modern music relies on equal temperament (i.e., all adjacent tones are equivalent). And yet, it hardly appears that the interval between D-sharp and F-flat would sound the same as E-flat and E-natural despite the equivalent aural result.

One solution to represent modern music would be a graphic notation where notes can be plotted against an x-axis representing time and a y-axis representing pitch. The visual representation would be easily understood as analogous to the aural realization. Freeman uses precisely this notation.

While this approach has its advantages for visual representation, it also lacks in its convenience for reading. The standard five-line staff groups pitches and allows us to easily recognize pitches in reference to a fixed point. It becomes difficult to maintain a reference point on an equally-spaced graph across groups of 12 lines.

Need Music Participation be User-Friendly?

Perhaps one of the most unfortunate cultural shifts in the past century was the move away from the ubiquitous teaching of our children how to read music. In years past, such knowledge could be assumed and would allow for the participation in amateur performance, composition and the like that is not approachable by those with little to no knowledge of the musical language.

And yet, I also do not think that familiarity with the musical language would result in any more participation. Given the rates of participation across all of the Arts, I believe we are in a crisis of leisure. Average Americans are more likely to consume art than make it.

The question of whether it is worth making music more user-friendly seems to hinge not on those who do not currently participate and are unlikely to start, but rather on the efficacious nature of musical notation for those who would otherwise be currently involved. If I’m right about that, then I would suggest we are right on track. Experiments with other methods of representation don’t hurt, but we should not kid ourselves about increasing Arts participation by dumbing-down its means.

@fEARnoMUSIC: Hey composers! Please don’t put bowings in unless you have played the instrument you are bowing for for at least 30 years. Thx! Mwah! Luv u!

@ElissaMilne: Really?! (re no bowings!) I’m assuming you mean up/down indications, not all slurring?!!

@harryfiddler: Articulation, yes. Bowings, no. Unless you want a particular effect, in which case you get a string player to help you.

@harryfiddler: I guess it’s like fingering on a piano? You wouldn’t presume to dictate fingering, although you do indicate articulation.

@fEARnoMUSIC: Yes, I’m talking about up/down bow indications. Let us figure out our own bowings based on your articulation/dynamic markings.

So, is it really so bad for composers to mark bowings?

I can understand that string players will undoubtedly have more familiarity with what is comfortable or familiar than non-string-playing composers. Surely, putting bowings in scores just for the sake of thoroughness (or whatever else) without caring much about any particular outcome is overkill.

However, I’m intrigued by @harryfiddler‘s comparison to fingerings on a piano. Is it true that one “wouldn’t presume to dictate fingering”? Schenker’s Art of Performance describes a variety of ways in which performance issues can relay interpretive information and may therefore may facilitate a more accurate conveyance of a composer’s intent (supposing an appropriate interpretation). Schenker’s editions of the Beethoven piano sonatas are not merely clean copies; they are interpretations. Fingerings matter because they can facilitate the portrayal of grouping and signaling information to audience members (as my Keyboard Harmony students are [hopefully] well aware).

Are not bowings akin to fingerings in this sense? The selection of bowings is an interpretation of sorts. If a composer puts in bowing markings that seem unnatural to a string player, could it sometimes be that the string player simply does not understand the music the way it was intended? I have no doubt that unnatural bowings may actually hinder an accurate portrayal, despite the intentions of the composer. And yet, is it so awful for string players that they do not wish to even try the bowings suggested by a composer “unless you have played the instrument you are bowing for for at least 30 years”?

“Love the Art; Hate the Artist?” by John Schaefer

In Israel you still won’t hear the music of Richard Wagner in concert. The music sounds just as glorious there as it does anywhere else, but the Nazi’s appropriation of his music and of some of his anti-Semitic writings make it a painful listening experience for many Israelis who survived the Holocaust and settled there.…

If we remove all the art by artists of bad character from our lives, who are we hurting? Not a long dead composer… We’re just denying ourselves the good—in some cases, perhaps the only good—that these people did.

“Blackface, Reconsidered” by Jody Rosen

What really troubles me… is this question of whether Sophie Tucker is “worthy of consideration.” Are we to conclude that had Tucker not stopped performing coon songs, she would be unworthy of consideration? What about an entertainer like Al Jolson, one of the greatest and most influential singers of the 20th century, whose landmark performances took place behind the blackface mask? What, for that matter, about Bert Williams, the first African-American pop star, who smeared burnt cork on his own brown skin? Are they beyond the bounds of acceptability?…

Yes, blackface comedy was racist and appalling, and people should never stop saying so. It is also a key to cracking the code of American culture.

It’s especially important to understanding popular music, whose history—from Stephen Foster to Tucker to Bing Crosby to Janis Joplin to Mick Jagger to Eminem and on and on ad infinitum—is enmeshed with blackface tradition. For years, minstrelsy was such a hot-button topic that scholars dared not touch it. This is one reason why important musicians like Tucker have received little serious attention in the last many decades.

“‘I am a pianist, not a spokesperson’” by Arminta Wallace

In a way, [Palestinian-Israeli pianist Saleem Abboud Ashkar] has become a spokesperson for Palestinian artists in the wider world, certainly in Europe. As a pianist, does he feel this is a role which has been thrust upon him? “Yes and no,” he says. “The role of a spokesperson is inevitable. I always stress the fact that I am a pianist and not a spokesperson—but the more I stress that, the more my role as a spokesperson becomes even stronger. But I don’t want to put on any uniform. If anything, what I speak for is our wish to develop our lives and to live in a way that is with dignity. To express our potential as individuals. The more I do what I do, the more that becomes clear by itself.”

What all of these articles have in common is some attribute placed on the music or musician that is derived from something extra-musical regarding the nature or character of the artist. I think they all pose good questions:

• If we remove all the art by artists of bad character from our lives, who are we hurting?
• Are such artists unworthy of consideration?
• To what extent do artists become spokespersons for all people like them in any particular way (race, creed, gender)?

From the flip side, is it ethical for a composer to set a text which reflects an attitude with which they do not agree? Or can we permit a composer to distance themselves from the texts which they set (or titles used)?

Perhaps the easiest response was given by John Schaefer, the Wagner commenter:

This is why I prefer to read the book or hear the music before I go and learn about the person who made it. I think I’d find it hard to be objective looking at a painting with young Adolf Hitler’s signature in the corner. Of course, if I liked it, and then saw that signature in the corner, I might feel like losing my lunch, but then no one ever said that art was supposed to be easy.

While rather convenient, I am sure that such an approach would not satisfy many audience members. Perhaps, however, it is the audience member who must in the end take responsibility for the cognitive dissonance as they place a meaning on the music beyond that which can be known from the music itself (i.e., not knowing its author). Of course, this would assume that we understand what meaning can be conveyed through music. I am pretty sure, however, that an innocent listening to Wagner’s Wedding March would never reveal its sometimes-despised author; why else would I still be asked to play it at so many weddings?

“The first art to develop is the art of looking.…

The next step is to take them to a museum, so they can see how the pros do it…”

Or, in the case of music specifically:

“The next step is to take the children to a ‘starter show’ like ‘Shear Madness,’ then graduate to ‘Blue Man Group,’ and then on to more challenging fare.”

Where’s the next step? Where does the student actually learn the basics of creating art? For musicians, when do they learn to read music, sing or play an instrument?

It seems to me that the critical component that is missing when relying on parents to teach the arts is anything that actually has to do with being either an actual artist or even, for that matter, an informed audience.

I really do not see this as a sustainable model. Not even today’s parents have the cultural awareness that generations in the past would have had; how can we expect the next generation to have anything at all worthwhile to pass on? While it may be somewhat useful to “look” or “listen” we can not possibly expect that this constitutes the intellectual engagement that is required for art.

If we actually do value art (which I would venture to say is more a case of lip-service these days) then we need to invest in actual art education by which students gain knowledge and skills with at least the basic materials of arts such that they can minimally engage intellectually with what practicing artists produce. Only then can we fairly say that we are helping develop our students’ lives through art.

This new structure is changing the economy of music as noted by Alexandra Topping:

Even though users of streaming services are not necessarily buying more music, the industry benefits by learning more about fans’ tastes. Steve Purdham, CEO and founder of We7, a music streaming service and download store, said: “They may not buy an album, though they have that opportunity, but you can sell them tour tickets and a T-shirt of their favourite band.”

A similar trend in literature is discussed by Motoko Rich and Brad Stone in the NY Times (“A New World: Scheduling E-Books“):

No topic is more hotly debated in book circles at the moment than the timing, pricing and ultimate impact of e-books on the financial health of publishers and retailers. Publishers are grappling with e-book release dates partly because they are trying to understand how digital editions affect demand for hardcover books. A hardcover typically sells for anywhere from $25 to $35, while the most common price for an e-book has quickly become $9.99.

Amazon.com, which sells electronic editions for its Kindle device, has effectively made $9.99 the de facto price for most best sellers, a price that publishers believe will reduce their profit margins over time. Barnes & Noble, through its Fictionwise arm, also sells best sellers in e-book form, for $9.95.

This is not all bad news, as publisher margins are higher on e-books because Amazon currently takes losses. Again, the game is to discover the best way to make a profit in a changing market.

There’s recognition all around that this trend is just beginning and that there is still a strong demand for physical CDs and Books. Right now, the only question concerns where this is all headed.

I still am curious as to what is driving this change. Is it the obvious answer that consumers are not willing to pay the prices? If that is the case, does that mean that these artistic products are no longer valued? I’m not entirely sold on that as consumption overall is not decreasing, merely changing. Is it perhaps a result of competition both in terms of distribution and production, i.e. more sale points with vast amounts of new products. That seems somewhat more likely to me at the moment. However, if that is the case, that would suggest that the market is hurting itself (which seems plausible).

This trend is particularly fascinating for me because I find myself affected at both ends of the spectrum. On the one hand, as a composer, I would want the market for music sales to remain strong so that the production of new music may be compensated in a way that makes its creation reasonable. On the other hand, I consume music in much the same way as the first article suggests; I don’t purchase many CDs any more (possibly due to current financial conditions), but instead peruse music in the non-commital ways provided by such services as YouTube and online streaming radio. That said, I would hate to see the demise of the album!

Update: More predictions on the future of e-art ask the question “Does the Book Industry Want To Get Napstered?”

Here are some of the reasons offered by performers as to why they would use pre-recorded music:

• This occasion’s got to be perfect. You can’t have any slip-ups.
• The slightest glitch would devastate the performance.
• There are too many variables to go live.
• The performers care too much about their art to risk presenting something substandard.

On the flip side:

• This led the musicians to deny who they are as performers.
• There is something pitiful and pitiable about musicians hobbling their own voices.
• What is art without risks?
• An opportunity for glorious exertion and vitality was missed.

If I were to be coming to this argument for the first time and read these two lines of reasoning, I must say that I’d probably have to agree with the decision made by the performers.

The arguments made by the performers addressed the marketable situation in which they were involved. They were hired on the basis that they create apparent perfection on a regular basis. This impression is enhanced by the recording industry that expects and delivers flawless (i.e. edited) recordings. Nevertheless, this expectation exists and must be addressed. If not, such a flawed performance would surely make the internet (as it actually did in the case of the Inaguration).

Taking a look at the arguments made by the other side, I am left with more questions than answers. “What is art without risks?” Good question; perhaps we should pursue an answer. What is the “something pitiful and pitiable about musicians hobbling their own voices”? What does it mean to deny who you are as a performer? What sort of “opportunity for glorious exertion and vitality” was missed that was not at all possible when in the recording studio for the pre-recording?

These are, in fact, questions about the value of live performance that must be addressed. I think, however, we musicians would be hard-pressed to offer a response to the public value of the market. If most of the audience is going to be watching via the internet, then who cares on which day it was performed? I think it is time for us to learn more about our audience and their expectations so that we can address their needs while at the same time pursuing ours.

The author paraphrased Jared Diamond’s book Guns, Germs and Steel with a list of factors that may be the most important factors in whether an orchestra will present a new work:

1. Is there an economic advantage to the orchestra for doing so?
   Will the new work make us money? Will we get grant moneys, film contracts or payment by the composer or patron?
2. Will the orchestra gain prestige?
   Will the orchestra get recognition, be reviewed, be honored in doing the work, receive greater attention? Will their music department be honored? Will the teacher?
3. Will the new work contribute to the the value of the present repertoire or detract from it?
   Will introducing yet more music into the market decrease the value of the present holy lexicon of works which is the stock and trade of the orchestral industry or put it out of demand?
4. How immediately will these advantages be realized?
   Without investment—or as little as possible—will the orchestra be rewarded soon?

Why has this not become a major discussion among composers? Let’s get the ball rolling!

“The DJ is the custodian of aural history.”
—Paul D. Miller, a.k.a. DJ Spooky

There has been a back and forth of influence between popular and serious music throughout the ages. One of the best known examples is the use of the popular tune “L’homme armé” as the basis for over 40 separate “Missa L’homme armé” from the Renaissance.

Going the other direction, much of the progressive rock movement was an attempt to elevate rock to a more credible level via classical influences. Notable examples include King Crimson, Yes, Genesis, Pink Floyd, Jethro Tull, Soft Machine and Emerson, Lake and Palmer.

One of the interesting notions of the 20th century is post-modernism that happened in one way or another in both realms nearly simultaneously. The idea of quotation, or reference, music seems to be pervasive in both worlds to a great extent. A quick glance at composer bios frequently shows comments related to pop, rock or jazz influences that are sometimes very apparent. Composers such as Berio took literal quotation to a whole new level with his Sinfonia with musical quotations of Mahler and text quotations of Lévi-Strauss and Beckett.

References and quotes are almost the modus operandi of the popular realm. Rap and hip-hop would almost be non-existent if it were not for the use of sampling.

DJ Spooky sparks some interesting thoughts with the DJ posed as a “custodian of aural history.” Is that a fair statement? I would say so, with some qualifications. Sampling tends to include music from all realms, including classical. In this sense, it is much more inclusive than much of the classical version of quotation music. Jayson Greene wrote an article in Stylus magazine in which he listed the “Top Ten Classical-Music Samples in Hip-Hop.” Angus Batey referenced this list as he argued that Hip-hop is not inferior to classical music.

The qualifications I suggested would include such matters as the fact that within the DJ realm, all classical music will likely be in reference to popular music, and not the other way around. To me that is a bit limiting. On the other hand, where else can aural history be wrapped up in such a neat little package as Nas’”I Can” (Beethoven’s “Für Elise”)?

Although Sol LeWitt died last year at 78, one of his biggest installations, “Sol LeWitt: A Wall Drawing Retrospective” will open to the public soon, at MASS MoCA in North Adams, Massachusetts and be on view for 25 years. LeWitt hired a number of artists to execute his ideas over the past several years, including the time after his death.

LeWitt was one of the pioneers and masters of the “conceptual art” movement. For him:

In conceptual art the idea or concept is the most important aspect of the work. When an artist uses a conceptual form of art, it means that all of the planning and decisions are made beforehand and the execution is a perfunctory affair. The idea becomes a machine that makes the art. — Sol LeWitt, “Paragraphs on Conceptual Art,” Artforum, June 1967.

This much I am on board with. As a composer, I find there is usually a point about a third into each piece or movement that I write where I notice that the conceptualization is complete and it is just a matter of executing the remaining notes on the page. In a sense, once the ideas are there, they can—in a sense—take care of themselves.

Where I took issue with the report was when one of the artists began to compare the roles of conceptualizer/executer (my terms) across disciplines. For example, LeWitt (conceptualizer)/hired artists (executers). Also architect (conceptualizer)/construction worker (executer). Then came: composer (conceptualizer)/performer (executer). With this I can simply not agree.

Composition and performance, to me, are two separate arts. Both require conceptualization and execution. A composer must come up with original ideas (conceptualize) and work them into notes on a page (execute). Performers must determine an interpretation (conceptualize) and then practice long hours in order to be able to perform successfully (execute).

I’m not sure where the disconnect is, but I suspect it may be related to the public not being quite sure what a composer actually does (see “Classical Music’s Marketing Problem“). Perhaps, if the public could recognize the dual role of conceptualizer/executer for both composers and performers, we may move a great deal forward in our reconnection between listener and artist.

“For years, [William Weber] has been gathering data on late-eighteenth- and nineteenth-century performances, and he summarizes his findings in graphs showing how works of dead composers came to dominate concerts in Paris, London, Leipzig, and Vienna. In 1782, in Leipzig, the percentage was as low as eleven. By 1830, it was around fifty, going as high as seventy-four in Vienna. By the eighteen-sixties and seventies, the figure ranged from sixty-nine to ninety-four per cent (in Paris). Matters progressed to the point where a Viennese critic complained that ‘the public has got to stay in touch with the music of its time… for otherwise people will gradually come to mistrust music claimed to be the best,’ and organizers of a Paris series observed that some of their subscribers ‘get upset when they see the name of a single contemporary composer on the programs.’ These quotations come from 1843 and 1864.”

This summary comes from Alex Ross of the New Yorker in an article called, “Why So Serious?”

I was dumbfounded when I saw these numbers; clearly, the lack of contemporary music in concerts is not a modern problem. As Ross puts it,

“Anyone who believes that twentieth-century composers, with their harsh chords and rhythms, betrayed some sacred contract with the public should spend a few moments absorbing Weber’s data. In fact, the composers were betrayed first.”

This says to me that there is something deeper at the root of the modern state of affairs than a simple disdain for the whims of modern composers. Would, for example, this void still exist if composers essentially never stopped composing like the classics? I’m thinking the answer may be affirmative. Even as contemporary composers return to more palatable material, audiences are not following. It doesn’t take any brilliant analysis to see that the music of contemporary composers is not really making any headway with the public.

We might look instead to changes in cultural practices that surround this music. For example, classical concerts used to be a sort of background music for aristocratic socialization. Such a function might be compared to the modern “elevator music,” background to our everyday activities. At restaurants, music is inevitably piped through the room with anything ranging from pop to cheesy classics. This is quite similar to the way in which opera was originally consumed (at least fairly similar.)

The fate, however, of ending up piped over some dingy speakers in a overcrowded restaurant is not desired by modern composers, myself included. Part of our job as composers goes beyond just writing music down to making sure that people hear it.

How can we be a part of culture if culture never hears us?