Is classical music dying? This has been an increasingly burning question
within our struggling world of art music creation,
presentation and criticism over the last decade or so. Much writing has been done on the subject out of
which continues to emerge various life-saving suggestions and directives for
artists, administrators and marketers. I’m slightly wary of contributing more ideas
to this admittedly important debate, for several reasons: I’m a happily
iconoclastic and yes, slightly skeptical artist who doesn’t easily embrace
one-size-fits-all solutions, regardless of their aptness; my work has always
seemed to situate itself enough out of the mainstream not to warrant grandiose
ambitions of universal adulation and big economic reward; and I also question
the main assumption upon which these discussions seem to be based. The first
two reasons are obviously the result of my own choices, but I feel the last
calls for a little blogification.
As I have come to see it a basic assumption of this musical
round table is that viability equals market share. To justify our existence in
the arts industry, compensation for our creations or performances must remain
consistent or rise; the size of our audiences must always increase; our value
to potential advertisers and marketers must always grow. This decidedly Western
ethos is so deeply ingrained that it seems impossible or unrealistic to imagine
our goals being otherwise. So why are we so surprised that as economies across
the globe have shrunk dramatically and probably permanently, so has the demand
for “non-essential” art music? I’m afraid that many of the responses
to this perceived crisis arise from this market-based mentality. Students feel obligated to earn DMA's, regardless of their dedication to
scholarship, in order to improve the very long odds of landing a well-paying
job in the world of academia. Young musicians of promise are pushed by
teachers to prepare often inappropriate and usually sadly conventional repertoire at
younger and younger ages, in order to “compete” in the increasingly dog-eat-dog
world of concert performance, rather than explore their individual
strengths and interests. Orchestras and other music presenting organizations have become
tools of their marketing departments, who continually press for increased
audience “accessibility” by corralling sophisticated performances into
insultingly childish theme groups. Artists are enjoined to be uniformly
glamorous as well as business savvy and self-serving at all times, even though
the grueling, self-denying and life-consuming nature of their process will in
truth probably preclude anything of the sort. Sadly, I am finding that young artists view this situation as normal. I’m afraid that as long as we
persist in portraying classical music as just another product line under the umbrella of
capitalist enterprise, and teaching it as such, its demise is inevitable and in
some ways deserved.
So, Mr. Smarty-Pants, I hear you crying, what’s then to be
done? Well, if the goal is simply economic viability, I really don’t know;
large life-sustaining fees and fame haven’t been the norm in my career as a
classical pianist, or in those of most of my peers. I have always found it necessary, and sometimes preferable,
to engage in a wide variety of work-for-money activities to support my fine art
habit. Sure, I grew up with all of this land-of-opportunity stuff and would
at times like nothing more than to be paid $25,000 for a Brahms Horn Trio
performance that, after all, took thousands of college-educated nerd hours to
reach fruition, not to mention the cost of earplugs. I would like critics (who
in this fantasy world are widely read and respected by all) to immediately
applaud my miraculous achievement, so that their readers would quickly rush
online to download badly-compressed versions of my CD’s (with free personalized
travel mugs) while breathlessly awaiting each of my twitter emanations. I would
love to see orchestras thriving instead of folding, schools expanding arts
budgets instead of slashing “electives.” And despite my apparent cynicism, I totally
applaud the brave and dedicated people out there trying to work within this
highly compromised system to ensure the survival of our struggling arts
institutions. Perhaps some of the clever and creative marketing angles being
implemented today will help to stave off disaster. They are certainly not all
without artistic merit. It’s just this: if you insist on reducing the experience
of classical music down to a shiny bauble sold
by a carny at an amusement park, the duped buyer will probably walk away
feeling cheated in the end anyway, never to return.
Instead, perhaps we could be asking: What does classical
music really do? Why do we create it, make it happen, or need it? In my very
humble opinion, it is an intensely powerful personal expression brought into a
necessarily complex existence by highly intuitive artists for others to
experience in real time. The amount of understanding that can be shared in this
process is entirely dependent on the listener’s ability to receive, her
education if you will, and the performer’s ability to communicate. Its goal is,
or should be, to enrich, enhance, alter; to transport the listener in some
lasting and profound way to a place of new and deeper awareness. We humans
still seem to crave this opportunity to go beyond; we continually seek it in classical music,
visual art and literature regardless of reward or difficulty. But let’s face
it, this promise of enrichment is not an easy sell compared to
say, a Big Mac or a pop tune. On 60 Minutes last night, when asked about the secret to her overnight international
success, the sensational singer Adele drew the distinction perfectly (if unknowingly) in her
refreshingly self-effacing way. To paraphrase her: “Look, people just really like
songs about love and betrayal, and that also happens to be what I like to sing.” But in our situation,
no matter how you try to market the Symphonie Fantastique, it is never going to be simply about love
frustrated, and was never intended to be. Some
would have us believe that the end justifies the means; all we need to
do is get people through the door and into a seat, by whatever means
necessary, and they will inevitably become lifelong appreciators of classical
music. But I believe we do a disservice to the music and
its audience by oversimplifying, demystifying and dis-empowering the magic of
complexity in order to lure in possibly unreceptive or unwilling listeners. We rob them of the
opportunity of discovering, when they are ready and without bias, the difference between the wondrous ineffability of fine art and the everyday barrage of mass
market culture.
I’m not sure if this magical substance is marketable in the
ways we have traditionally embraced, or even if the need for it will survive in today's turbulent seas of commercialism and greed. However, I suspect that spurious claims
of popularity and accessibility will do nothing to build lasting audiences for our work, and
may even prevent a true seeker from finding his muse.
6 comments:
Nice thoughts. I used to read some reviews of music. But then realized that every recording contained 'the best' this, the 'most powerful and sublime' that, and 'perhaps the most sensitive and intuitive' that.
If musicians can successfully communicate the music and intention of the composers to listeners, I think classical music will have a future...
Yes, M., interesting observation; the superlatives of Madison Avenue have indeed become commonplace in the marketing and criticism of music.
You have articulated this perfectly, Marty.
Thank you for this post. Complexity is not in fashion, really, and the temptation to dumb down the music in order to sell it is overpowering, partly because marketers don't know any other way to sell it.
Elitism has also become a dirty word in the arts. I tell friends who are interested in learning about the music that it's wonderful and rewarding, but not transparent - you need to listen (not just have it on in the background) and learn to appreciate it.
There is no shortage nowadays of people who will defend pop and folk music as art, every bit as worthy of attention as music in the European tradition. There are relatively few who dare cite the ways in which classical music is unique and worthy of a kind of attention that other kinds of music might not merit. But it's true, and the case should be made
Charles, beautifully put and perfectly concise (unlike my rambling post). Thank you!
Martin
Hmm. I'm not sure this is what I got from Martin's post, Charles. It didn't seem to me that Martin was arguing that classical music was MORE unique and worthy than other types of music, but rather that classical music has unique and worthy qualities that more people might appreciate if they were exposed to it in less market-driven ways. I don't know, Charles, I'm new to this debate. But I like Martin's clear-eyed passion on this.
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