Concert attendance, rituals, and all the wrong questions

Something has been bugging me the past few months. People in the "Classical Music Crisis" camp often make a big deal out of the unique nature of what's happening in classical music. What comes out of these problems are answers that are also unique--unique in that they seek to change the artform itself, rather than to address problems in marketing, image, and pricing. In the past, there was much talk over ticket pricing, but that has since died down with a focus instead on kitsch, on creating some sort of buzz by putting in some new product, designed by the masses, for mass consumption, including the experience, rather than focusing on the product (and the evolution of that product naturally, which, btw, includes lots of influences) and finding ways to market more effectively, change the preconceived images, and bring more people into the fold.

There's a focus on the idea of barriers to entry. Particularly, there's a take by Pierre Bourdieu which has to do with the barriers caused by differences in customs, rituals, mannerisms, etc. by different groups of people. There was a blog post in January about the largest barrier this person felt wasn't the ritual aspect, but the specific knowledge of the music that was the problem. It's not knowledge of the ritual itself that is the issue, but the shared vocabulary to discuss the art afterwards. The author cites that talking about art is an important part of the experience, and that is a portion missing. I've blogged about the educational issue before.

If there is an issue with the preconceived idea that specialized knowledge is needed to enjoy a classical concert, then how do we alleviate this issue? We can bolster education through outreach programs, and we can actively work to change the image that specialized knowledge is needed. One of the things I try to work as a musician is how to explain music without needing technical terms. As a composer, every conversation I have with a new acquaintance has the question "What kind of music do you write?" How do I explain this?

During my comprehensive exam, I had to answer area questions submitted by faculty members on my panel. Three of the questions revolved around "elevator pitches," or discusses my music and what I do with different types of individuals. One was "You have five minutes to explain your music to a total stranger with little background in music." Another was "you have ten minutes to explain your music to another musician you've met an a conference." These are two wildly different approaches.

One can easily talk about music without getting into technical terms. I asked the question on Facebook about "what makes music relevant (or irrelevant)?" and in the long string, specialized knowledge was brought into the discussion. If you don't have the knowledge base required, the music becomes irrelevant.

But this leads to a few philosophical questions. First off, it starts down a path of there being a single meaning behind a musical piece. Second, it pushes a sort of agenda--depending on what information is given, different interpretations are achieved. Third, it discounts different styles of listening--formal vs. mimetic listening for one dichotomy.

I've seen the transformation first hand when this barrier is removed for students. In my teaching of music appreciation courses, I always seek to find ways for students to engage with the music, so I try different methods. Sometimes these are formal--I give students an understanding of the form and structure, point things out in a specific music example, then challenge them to listen for similarities in other pieces. This can work. Other times I've had students focus on historical or interpretive aspects. This works especially well with opera. Regularly, I start to see students come around not just to appreciating the music, but to start to understand all that ways that one can appreciate music.

If there's one piece of knowledge that can remove the barrier around needing specific knowledge, it's the knowledge that you don't need any one particular piece of knowledge, but can approach the music personally.

The next bit that confuses me regards marketing issues. I have lots of friends that play in bands of various sizes. Some go on tour with major groups, some flit from band to band, able to keep playing even as one band succumbs to the harsh reality that is the music business. They range in genre from brass players that have played with John Legend to heavy metal bands to jazz trios and any other group you can imagine.

When there's bad turn-out at a show, do you know what they blame first?

Advertising.

They didn't talk to enough people. They didn't get word out to enough of their friends, who didn't get word out to enough of their friends. The marketing group did a terrible job prepping the major tour and there were no adverts on the radio or TV. They only made a dozen posters and must have chosen bad places. Sometimes it gets into bits about a venue not being where people that like that music usually go (hey, surprise, venues cater to specific forms of music), or some other external force comes into light (shit, we booked against eighth blackbird... yeah, that happened. 15 people showed up).

What do we hear in classical music?

The music doesn't reach people. It's irrelevant. The culture of the concert hall is to blame. People feel uncomfortable getting dressed up. I've blogged before about how odd this idea is. I've made comparisons between new music concerts and death metal concerts. Talking to a friend tonight over some great Mexican street food (IN STOCKHOLM!), I came to the realization that, really, only classical musicians talk about music this way (and jazz musicians, which I think is just a symptom of being put into academia). If a death metal concert is not attended well, it's not because death metal is dead. When Kanye West only sold 4,500 tickets at the 18,500 seat Sprint Center in Kansas City, the local critic didn't say that West's music obviously lacked popular appeal and had no connection with the audience. Instead, he linked meager attendance to the various scandals surrounding West at the time. Maybe considering the album the tour featured, Yeezus, only made it up to #37 in the Billboard top 200 for the year, West's popularity could be falling.

But is it the music's popularity or West's?

Furthermore, attendance at all live events has been dropping. Live Nation has been facing financial issues because of declining ticket sales. There have been increases lately in ticket sales, though Live Nation is still having some financial issues. Overall concert attendance is down even though awareness is up. And, boy, if you want to start talking about a company that does a terrible job, and yet still exists, just look at Live Nation. But this isn't about Live Nation bashing, it's about continued decline in live music attendance.

If there's a problem in marketing with classical music, the problem lays with classical musicians. We're not doing our job well enough of reaching people. How many symphony musicians actively get their students to come to the symphony? When I studied with a principal player, he rarely mentioned the concerts. When I lived in Kansas City, I hardly heard a peep about what was happening with the KC Symphony, beyond the occasional "free tickets!" email sent to the conservatory. I didn't realize the KC Lyric was doing Nixon in China until it was sold out. It is, in part, my own fault. As a classical musician, perhaps I should be more "tuned in," and should be checking the arts calendars more often, and have the local symphonies webpages bookmarked and do the work myself. Perhaps I should sign up for the emailing lists...

But then again, that's a form of marketing that's very inactive, isn't it? It relies on the person you're trying to reach to go out of his/her way to find you. Then, once they've found you, you're in.

Take this against several of my friends in the jazz and pop world. Of course there's active use of Facebook, but it's important to remember the limited reach of Facebook--in the end, you're reaching your friends and followers. It's a bit more active, because you can initiate the contact, inviting people to like a page, or asking for a friend invite. I have to say the old system based on friending people with organizations was much better than inviting to pages. And, of course, they're posts only reach 16% of the people, on average. This means that while the bands my friends perform in do post their events, they also cross posted, repeatedly, with each member promoting as well. Some use twitter, and go out of their way to follow and gain followers. One friend in particularly still uses the old mass email.

I always know what my friends are doing. Even if I'm not paying attention, I can easily find out. They often reach out to me. I'm not saying social media and marketing is the way to go. Honestly, I don't think the reach is there for most businesses for it to be highly effective. But it's the active portion of it.

We also have to accept the reality of today's society. There's an ever growing portion of people that watch shows online instead of using TV. In fact, there's a growing number of people without TVs in their homes, with alternate devices taking over. About a third of the savior demographic utilizes the internet more for their viewing pleasure. On top of that, there's a large group that use ad blocking software. The privacy wars are raging, and it's causing a drop in ad space. While this can be good for symphonies and groups selling advertising (you can't block an ad in a live event), it can affect how a symphony markets itself. Paying for an ad on Facebook won't reach those tech savvy millenials you're after. Neither will playing on local TV.

I do not have an answer to the marketing issue...yet. But I'm working on some ideas that I think are perfectly in line with modern content and advertising ideas.

So, looking at this, what ideas really pop into your head? What ways are popular groups making a living these days? How are they advertising? Are they sacrificing their artistic ideas for the sake of more sales? The idea of the sell-out is of course omnipresent, as are the pop acts that are created by execs rather than by artistry. Should classical music change everything about itself to fit the idea of some mythical group?

Or should we find ways to reach people? Find ways so that people aren't angered by ticket prices. Address barriers to entry not from a "how do we change ourselves," thus leaving the barriers in place, just picking up and moving elsewhere (where there will be a new set of boundaries), or do we find ways to permanently remove barriers?

And if there are new modes to make money, how do we do them? I have quite a few ideas, and some have generated a fair bit of buzz in my secret meetings (look, I can do it too!). Look out in the future for any posts about upcoming projects, where some of these ideas come to fruition. 

On Experimentalism, pt. 2

In my first post on experimentalism, I examined some issues with the current though process starting to grab hold in academia. At the top of the list was the idea of job preparation and a leaning toward finding answers to classical music's image problems by borrowing from popular music. I argued that this mode of thinking would lead to a stagnation of musical culture, as well as stunt the overall musical growth of students. This week, I look at two ideas of being experimental; the personal level and the universal level.

The personal level is accepting a mode of thinking and acting that revolves around experimentation. This means actively studying new techniques and ideas, being open to ideas from all areas, and entering with a sort of scientific mind-set.

What do I mean by a scientific mind-set? Think of doing experiments in a lab. If a young chemistry student sits down to do his/her first experiment, there are a few things that happen. First the teacher (or adult supervisor) helps the student learn the proper safety procedures and the use of the various equipment needed for the experiment. It wouldn't do much good for a student to start a distillation procedure, but not know how to set-up the Bunsen burner, or connect the glass piping together. After that, students are given the basic instructions on how to proceed. They are not told of exactly what awaits at the end, but instead sent off to do the experiment, write down observations, do calculations as needed, and find an answer.

This is how I approach writing music. Before I write a piece, I set out to learn any techniques needed, in at least a general way. As the piece evolves, I may find I need to work harder on one aspect, take some time to study a certain type of notation, or play around with one small idea for a while to learn it's inner workings. This reminds me of an experiment I did in chemistry long ago when we were doing a distillation experiment. I followed the directions properly for the set-up, but it still took a little fiddling to find the right setting on the burner that would be hot enough but not too hot (and thereby uncontrollable), as well as having to make sure some of the linking in the tubing where completely secure.

I don't start with an ending in mind, instead a general direction or idea. Maybe I want to explore spectralism as a pitch structure, but due to the make-up of the commissioning group, I can't keep the timbre possibilities exact, not can I use the type of rhythmic language usually associated with the movement. So, I explore, play around, find different ways to play with the basic pitch material and overall sonic image from the recording. And out comes a piece that seems more like a funk piece than spectral piece.

I am a composer that is endlessly experimenting. My time in college has been to learn and try as many different types of writing music as I could. This gave some of my teachers fits, as I'd ask about some obscure style of writing music. Other teachers loved my sense of experimentation, always interested to see what would come next--maybe an hour long randomly generated electronic piece, or a fluxus style improvisation piece with trash cans. Recently I've written an algorithmic composition, TDRM, for trombone and percussion. This work is also proportionally notated, meaning that standard rhythms have been removed, instead a general sense of speed is given for the piece, and the rhythms are interpreted by the performers by the proximity of note-heads. There are also graphic representations, extended techniques, and a kazoo. 

 None of the techniques in this piece are brand new--I've invented nothing. The experiment in this case is a personal one. I had never written my own software for determining composition, nor done an entirely proportionally notated score. I had to learn new software, new techniques in software I was already familiar with, and change my entire mode of thinking in the creation of this piece. The experience of the piece will be noticeably different in each performance, and the end results musically would easily be considered to be avant-garde. It most certainly does not fit in with any pervading opinion of music, be it the academic mindset or the populist mindset. The piece is experiment, which may completely fail.

My dissertation is an opera with an original libretto. It has many traditional elements--it is pseudo-through composed, in the sense that the arias don't happen expressly as "stop and sing," but are inherent to the action of the drama. The writing within the opera may be a tick lower on the experimental spectrum than most of my works, but that is due to a different consideration. No, not the consideration of will it be popular, nor accepting that opera houses mostly stage Romantic works, so I should play to that audience. Instead it's due to a musical and dramatic choice that is somewhat unique.

Most operas are written in one main style. Specific styles may change, the inclusion of a dance movement, or a more Romantic turn for a love aria. However, when one listens to a Mozart opera, it is definitely Mozart. The unifying style of an opera by John Adams goes a bit further, with a minimalist attitude permeating the entire score. If the opera is a bel canto opera, all the singers will perform in that style. If it's more of a musical theater style, all performers will perform that style.

My opera takes the dramatic idea of characterization to the music. Characters speak with distinct voices in plays. Dialogue is written to differentiate the characters from one another. However, it seems that most music is written in a more homogeneous style. Yes, the voice types will differ, and the best opera composers used pitch and rhythm cleverly to delineate characters. I'm taking a more novel approach of each character operating in a particular style--this means that the punk singer will not be singing bel canto, but screaming, and the music backing him will be a punk band. Another singer is a sprechstimme role in the style of Brecht/Weill, and so the music is reflected accordingly. When singers of different styles take a duet or trio, elements of their styles are intertwined into a single style, or are overridden by a pervading style--however all the singers remain true to their voices, creating a clash of styles more like one would encounter in a normal conversation.

Will this work? Honestly, I have my doubts. There's usually a good reason why certain things have happened a certain way over time. However, I'm taking the chance to experiment, to try an idea that is, at least new to me. If I was worried about performability, perceived popular opinion, or economics, this project would never exist. How can I make money on a full scale opera, being worked on at the moment with no opera company partner? How can I write music that is outside the perceived popular opinion? And where will I find a punk singer that's willing to scream on stage for an opera?

All good questions, and things I will deal with after the work is completed. I can pitch the project to companies, now as I'm working, and later after it's finished, or find a way to finance and produce the work myself. I never worry about perceived popular opinion, but it is interesting to note that every single person I've described this project to thinks it's a fantastic idea--from the musical idea, to the original story, to the interweaving of folk tales and current politics, to the influence of death metal. And you'd be amazed how many popular performers were in drama club in HS, and wouldn't mind doing another musical, especially if it's doing what they already do.  

All this ties into the idea of experiential learning, that humans can learn to do something through active experimentation. What happens when experimentation is removed, and instead replaced with an economic rationale for learning? It's actually been shown in a couple articles that money is not the best motivator. Instead, internal motivation for creation should be used for motivating young musicians. Furthermore, education should be used to broaden a students understanding, not force a narrow viewpoint. Even in specialized courses, the goal is to challenge students, not to give them basic tools and shoo them out the door. We'll end up with generations of young people unable to reason their way out of a problem, only apply pre-determined formulas. I've seen this first hand from a specific trade school churning out graduates in audio production. Most of the students I've met come out with an understanding of exactly what they were shown, and nothing else. There are a few outstanding students I've met that had a firmer grasp of fundamentals and theoretical ideas, allowing them to apply their training to other similar devices...but only a few.

All of these ideas tie to the idea of personal experimentation. I am under no illusion that my music is somehow transcendentally unique. Instead I work in small increments, learning new skills, new ideas, and testing my own boundaries. All the while I'm learning the breadth of music available, and seeing where I fit within the grand traditions.

Experimentalism in a universal sense is moving outside those student experiments. You've been working on ideas, ideas that for all your hard research you have yet to find paralleled elsewhere. Perhaps it's a new tuning system, or a the use of a newly created instrument. This is the universal experimentalism. It's what happens when a person follows a long stream of "what if"s until it reaches a point where no one has explored before. This is what leads to great leaps in technology and art.

It's what happened when multitrack recorders started hitting the circuit. The idea of multitrack recording (or recording more than 1 channel at a time. This includes stereo recording) is ubiquitous now, but it wasn't widely available until the early 1960s. The first commercial machines were made in the late '50s by Ampex, with the first one sold to Les Paul. And without Les Paul, Ampex may never have even made the technology, as his continuous tinkering and experimentation led to several different multitrack recording set-ups prior to Ampex selling him the 8-track machine. By the late 70s, multitrack had taken over.

It's what happens when Bela Bartok and Zoltan Kodaly take an early mono recorder out and start recording folk songs. Alan Lomax did the same thing, collecting American folk songs, but did so in a way to preserve the tradition. Bartok took the folk songs, and used their raw nature to create classical music. Even this idea was far from new, with the use of folk and popular songs as starting points for art music dating back to the beginning of art music (see fact #7). But it was the way in which Bartok used the folk songs, keeping the complexities and nuances of the untrained singers, not shying away from free rhythms and complex meters as needed. It was keeping the pitch material closer to the original, instead of shoving it into an already accepted Western scale.

It's an experimental nature that leads to something new to the entire form, not just to a single person. It's that leap in understanding. It's the same leap made by Pierre Schaefer  in using recorded sounds to create music, something that is now common in popular and art mediums. It's those leaps that can be lost when we turn music education into a job preparation kit, especially focusing on ideas that are popular over personal exploration and development.

It's that constant search for bettering oneself. Some people refer to this as "finding your voice." I dislike that phrase because it points to an end point, that all this work leads to one single outcome; your voice, your one unified style in which every piece shall be written. I wonder what Stravinsky would think of this idea as he switched styles throughout his life. Or Penderecki, who after writing complex pieces with large amounts of extended techniques, switched to a more Romantic style. Did they never find their voices? Or do we consider their last pieces the culmination, that this is what the journey was all about. Has Penderecki, who still lives and writes music, found his voice in his latest choral works?

Or is there no one voice, and he's moved continuously in development, accepting and rejecting his own ideas. Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshmia is a highly experimental piece composed in 1960. Penderecki explored many extended techniques, percussive hitting of the body of the string instruments, and new notations. He has since left this style, with the anecdote being that he "has written all that can be written in this language." Is this type of language a dead end then? Are there no more experiments, just rearrangements of the same twelve tones?

I argue against this approach, the linear idea of a start and a finish. I believe any use of music education that becomes that sort of end-product focused can lead to a disaster. Of course there are markers we can use. A performer can and should be able to play all major and minor scales over the entire extent of the instrument. This can be graded for accuracy, and the next step of technique can be attained. A composer can and should learn to write a fugue, following very specific rules. The adherence to these rules can and should be graded for accuracy. The same can be said for learning counterpoint rules, all the extended techniques available for each instrument, basic instrumentation, form, different ways of generating musical structures, and on and on. The more knowledge one has, even if not actively engaging in it's use, will change the way one thinks about a passage...and all of a sudden, completely unbidden, a passage turns into a perfect serialist fugue, without the aid of a matrix.

Experimentalism in music is needed at all levels. It is through this experimentation, the pushing of new ideas, that music can grow. It is not through touting all ideas as new ideas. Research is integral to this approach. A young chemist doing a simple experiment, say, heating mercury thiocyanate in a place no one has thought to in a while, say, in a large quantity in a park, doesn't run out and say "I have created something entirely new! A wonderful form of chemistry called 'live interactive park chemistry!' " It's still the same experiment. And, more than likely someone has done it...and gotten the fine associated with creating noxious fumes in a public place.

In closing, it's important to remember that without experimentalism, there is no development in music. By making music into a vocational schooling meant to pump out musicians that can trumpet the latest fad in music, but without the skills to reach new conclusions will only hurt music in the long run. It will create a generation of followers, musicians that think they're developing new ideas when in reality just putting a slightly different paint job on the same idea.

On experimentalism

In the current push of critiquing music, a few views have become old stand-bys:

1. All music must be immediately relevant to a mythic, all encompassing audience. Most classical music, either from the past or currently written does not fit this mold
2. The number one way to prove the relevancy and quality of a work is to show that it sells well. This means high ticket and record sales. To this end, it is obvious that classical music should adopt popular music models.
3. Music education at the post-secondary level should be to prepare musicians for the business end of music, to train musicians to make a living in the arts after graduation. This ties directly into point 2, as the types of music studied, styles of courses, and various grading mechanism should be tied to economic success. 
4. Differing views from the populist model are considered traditional, and the main reason people are against this model is due to their conservative streak. It's a new way of thinking, and therefore the more conservative minded are against it.
5. We should exemplify organizations that have succeeded in creating money and popularity without criticizing their stance, or without researching and considering all of the pros and cons of those positions. Most importantly, it should be known that what works for one organization will work for all organizations, regardless of locale, clientele, or any other factors. 
6. Experimental (read not traditional nor pop influence fusion), academic, post-tonal, musique concrete acoustique, spectralism, and any other movements in music function to alienate the audience, and therefore should be eschewed for styles of music more popular with the mythic audience.

These points are heavy handed reductions of the views I've been reading from critics, comments throughout the web, and conversation with musicians. Being heavy handed, they show my attitude quite clearly toward these simplified views. Let me continue to lay my hand on the table.

There's been a trend recently on this blog to explain positions that are outside the popular opinion of a small circle of respected critics. Most of these critics hail from the Eastern seaboard of the US, with a large concentration in the mid-Atlantic and NYC area. This NYC-centricity explains ideas that are most apt to that specific locale, and only describe a sub-section of all the people in the area. For every description of  dinner/concert production that has met with success, there are any number of new music groups performing difficult, interesting, and experimental works. For every pop oriented performance, there's a JACK quartet performing Helmut Lachenmann to rave reviews or Georg Friedrich Haas' tour de force String Quartet No. 3 to a packed house. This is to say that as critics try and create one image of the arts, a different image, held in a completely different dimension, seems to be moving along well. 

The populist view has a damning effect, which I attempted to articulate in part in my post on pandering. At an even earlier point, I attacked the idea of writing for an imaginary perfect audience. The rationale is simple: to write for a presumed perfect audience, a composer must be willing to move against his own ideas, and accept a cobbled-together, watered down, multiple choice test aggregate idea of what music is. This is where articles have been written specifically saying not to write or perform down to an audience. Simply put, if you're looking at the average of a wide demographic, it is easy to shoot for that average or the lower end of the average. That is, in effect, pandering: giving the audience what you think they want instead of giving the audience the highest caliber artistic experience possible. 

For composers to choose this path is their own prerogative. There are composers working in popular music genres, fusion genres, and all over that write compelling, interesting, and original music in those styles. They have an ability to find their own personal voice while navigating a narrow checklist of must haves when writing in particular genre. Not everyone can do this--not everyone can accept adding a bass drop and a dub style bass line to a pop song, even if it is in vogue. 

I'm reminded of an excellent blog-post by Alex Temple on cultural relevancy. As soon as the argument becomes about classical music being relevant, it's important to remember to ask "for whom?" Beyond that, it's important to go through what may or may not make the experience important to people. It could be the music, or the preconceptions about the music and its environment. The problem could, in fact, have nothing to do with the experience as it would happen, but the assumed ideas of people regarding the experience. 

This all bleeds into my ideas on education. I've been an active educator for quite some time, ranging from teaching private lessons and coaching ensembles at local middle school and high schools during my undergrad years, to teaching brass during marching season, to music appreciation at the college level (sometimes for high school students in special programs), and into teaching audio engineering, music technology, and composition. In Marek Poliks' ongoing series, he recently discussed how new music is academic music, and the inextricable ties between these two institutions.

It's true, new music is academic music. And the idea of new music, or perhaps we should say original music, is under attack.

Let's look first at the University system in America. There is the continued strife between "traditionalists," or those that like the idea of a broad, core curriculum (the liberal arts), and "academics" that want a curriculum with tighter specialized courses, but at the same time larger freedom for students to choose their path. There's also a trend toward looking at the economic success of alumni as a measuring stick for how well a college is doing. This can be simplified to a question: what is the purpose of higher education? Is it to learn skills to be successful in an economic sense? Is it to achieve a higher level of education, broad or specific? Is it to prepare a student for his/her chosen career path, whether or not that career path is economically viable? More and more questions arise from the simple question of "What is the purpose of higher education?"

This is hotly debated in music. DePauw University is currently changing their entire curriculum, and even though I'm an alumni, I have heard nothing regarding how it may change (nor much more than a basic survey regarding what I perceive I may have needed from the education to be successful as a musician). What I fear is a turn toward the populist economic model. David Cutler has written several articles (which I've linked before) that have some provocative ideas in them. And some of those ideas make me afraid for one of the main tenets I believe post-secondary education can provide for students:

A safe haven for experimentation.

There was a study published looking at what has been happening in popular music, specifically measuring the use of timbre, pitch, and dynamics, to see what has changed in the past 50+ years. The answers, summarized in the Smithsonian online magazine, has shown that timbre content has gone down, pitch content has gone down, and overall loudness (and compression) have gone up. Fewer pitches, fewer sounds, louder. 

There's been a similar movement in classical music. Starting after WWII, post-tonal theories were leading in new works. Serialism was still chugging along. The avant-garde was still working hard, producing works in new styles, including proportional notation, working with extended tuning systems after Harry Partch, Moving later in America, the avant-garde took a different approach, moving away from the densely packed machinations of their predecessors and into minimalism and post-minimalism. Minimalist works focused on process, a single idea taken through to it's logical conclusion (think, Clapping Music by Steve Reich or In C by Terry Riley). Or there were other takes, a more ambient, repetitive music that, occasionally, would shift slightly Post-minimalism took the idea, and toned down the nature of it. It turned, in a sense, to a modal music that was triadic in nature. What I mean is that while it took chords from tonal music, it did not adhere to the structure of tonal music. This was new to the classical music scene of the time, but it had been explored heavily, dating back to early triadic constructions (pre-Common Practice Era, or roughly 1600CE), and then again in jazz, most notably with Miles Davis' recording Kind of Blue. The first track of Kind of Blue, entitled So What typifies the idea of modal music. In this case, Davis uses only two chords, alternating between them. One could even make a claim that the jazz world predated the idea of Terry Riley's In C with Charle's Minguse's 1956 recording The Clown, especially the first track Haitian Fight Song (and further examples can be found throughout time, as ideas are recycled, altered, and gussied up for the new generation).

All this to point out that there was a reactive movement that started in the 60s and moved through the 70s and 80s in classical music away from a dense pitch construction, but retained the complexity of timbre and dynamics. The study about popular music didn't take into account rhythm, but one can see a squaring out of rhythms in classical music during this time period as well, sometimes as a mode of expression (in the harsh repetitive nature of early Philip Glass), or because of the aggregate end product was far more complex (Clapping Music and In C). At the same time, groups were experimenting in new modes of expression, including spectralism, among the many. Increases in technology made it easier for electronic music to be produced, and it was beginning to move further from the fringes of the avant-garde to a more mainstream avant-garde; away from being a sub-sub-genre, alienated even with the experimental community, to being accepted by the experimental community. But where is this incredibly abbreviated, and ham-handed history leading us?

Unlike what many populists purport, there has not been an industry wide attack on tonal, neo-Romantic, or any other type of music in academia. As aging serialist composers retired from teaching life, their students and the generation younger than them (who were still taught by the older powers), took a more holistic, inviting approach. Here's the disconnect I am seeing--not once in my lessons with composers young and old was I told not to write a certain style of music. Not once. And yet, critics seem to take a point in saying that composers are out of touch, that we force views on students like it's Darmstadt at its inception, that it's Pierre Boulez pre-correspondences with John Cage. And, in the place of serialism, they wish to raise up a new all-powerful master: music written for the imaginary perfect audience.

It will, of course, be accessible to all, unlike past music. It will follow trends in popular music. It will find ways to engage audiences in new ways, like playing in clubs or maximizing online resources.

It will be regressive, turning into a follower, not a leader. It will try to engage all people, while ignoring those already standing by its side. And it will discard all that has been for something new, because the past is over, and nothing can be learned or gained by examining it.

This is a problem. It's a problem because it takes a strong dogmatic stance, it raises one form of art over another as far as taste (not quality), and creates expectations of what artists will need without regard to the trade-offs. This is, of course, on the side of hyperbolic--I'm engaged not with the specific people involved, but with their marketed personas. What may be just another form of sensationalist media hides what could be amazing conversations with the greatest care and intent.

But it's important not to leave behind the spirit of true experimentation in all areas. And since experimental and new ideas are not immediately profitable, they come at odds with that line of thinking.

Touchscreens were patented in the US in 1967. The first commercial use of a touchscreen in a computer was in the early 1980s. They were a regular feature in certain GMC cars in the late 80s (Buicks, I believe. I have actually seen and touched one of touch screens). When was the first touchscreen phone? The early 90s with a prototype by IBM, some 10+ years before Apple's development of the iPhone. The original handheld mobile phones came out in the 1970s, and it wasn't until the 1990s that mobile phones became more widespread.

Early versions of these technologies were expensive to produce, and met with resistance from traditionally minded people. Technophobia is a normal condition brought on by rapid changes in technology--it's much easier to use what we are used to than to explore a constantly changing environment. The same is true in music.

The most well-documented and cited example may be Rite of Spring by Igor Stravinsky. The piece was a radical departure from the norm of the time, exploring a more modal style of writing with repetitive chords, brash orchestration, (skip back to hear an explanation) and had an accompanying choreography by Vaslav Nijinsky that was as provocative as the music. And yet, 100 years after Rite of Spring premiered to riots and critical disdain, it has been embraced by the musical community as one of the greatest works of the 20th century. The acclaim came somewhat quickly, as after the dust had settled from the premiere, about a year later the concert version was meeting with more popular success. A year is a short time to wait if one writes a piece that is so provocative or experimental! But there are still many musicians who find this work to be challenging and progressive, even as it past it's 101st birthday.

What would happen to these works if they were tied perfectly to commercial success. Can we expect more composers like Stravinksy, who found collaborators with large purse strings, willing to fund the most forward thinking and experimental works? Or will we take the view of the large institutions in the US, a conservative viewpoint of Romantic repertoire being the large selling point, with the more populist pieces and well known living composers getting a small sampling of performances? Will we see another John Cage Concert for Piano, a work whose score involves as much drawing as standard notation, and each individual part can be played as a solo without the piano? And when will we see it? Will it be a Radiohead-esque experience, where the band writes the music that makes money, then turns more and more toward the experimental vibe they always wanted? Or will we, as certain composers such as John Adams claim, lead to a weakening of music by lack of forward movement?

And can something exist that walks the line between experimentation (in a personal and universal fashion) and traditionalism still be a strong piece?

In my next post, I'll talk more about my personal relationship with experimentalism, and how and where I'm seeing that spirit continue, either in small steps or giant leaps. I believe these examples will help clarify why I firmly believe that academia should not just become a way to churn out students with business sense and the ability to read market data and create a product that will sell for the radio, but to be a breeding ground for experimentalism in all its forms. This is especially true of personal experimentation, urging students to go far outside their comfort zone, examine new ideas, and work toward greater goals.

Music, Mathematics, and Logic

And, no, not the DAW.

For the past week, I've been working on learning LilyPond and Frescobaldi. LilyPond is text-based music engraving software. Frescobaldi is a front-end interface that helps speed things along, with quick insertion, a code snippet repository built in, auto-fill typing, and a preview window that links to your code. Incredibly handy for spotting errors.

LilyPond is entirely programmed in C++, so it constitutes the second time I've learned a C-style environment (The first being CSound, which is C). It was not the first time I've delved into learning a C++ environment, as I had attempted to learn the basics of C++ several years ago. I also had attempted to learn LilyPond several years ago, and gave up after a couple weeks of banging my head on the desk.

It's amazing what a couple of years can do. The LilyPond has been greatly improved, and Frescobaldi improves my workflow. There are still some nit-picky things I don't like about the formatting before tweaks, but they're not a big deal--straight out of the box, LilyPond can create a usable, and relatively aesthetically pleasing score.

All this is lead up to the real issue at hand--Music, Mathematics, Logic, and computer programming

***************************************

A conversation popped up on my Facebook feed a few days ago regarding the importance of learning mathematics, from algebra through calculus, in HS. The question was posed "How many of you use algebra, geometry, trig, or calculus in your day to day lives, or in your professions?" The string of answers came in, ranging from "Never, it's pointless," to "Use algebra regularly, but there are a lot of programs that handle the math for you."

Here are my answers:

as a matter of fact, yeah, most every day while I'm attempting to do programming. having not taken calculus at any point, I'm really far behind in a ton of ways. I'm struggling horribly making command protocols because I don't have the math background needed.

It is definitely worth taking, because it allows you to pursue sciences. Definitely tell every younger person I know to load up on math. It doesn't hurt to learn it, and if you don't, you are limited by what you can later achieve. I seriously kick myself every day for thinking that as a musician I'd never need math. But you never know what life brings you, so it's best to be prepared. 

14 y/o me never would have believed 30 y/o me that I'd spend 8+ hours a day learning a programming language. Never would have believed I'd write my own (unsophisticated) program for generating music. 

It's worth it in so many areas--don't limit your future because it may not be used. Because if you don't have it, you'll definitely never use it.

And later:

I think treating education as a "learn only what you have to know to do X" instead of "learn all that you can so that you can do whatever you may pursue in the future" is dangerous ground. It assumes we know exactly what we'll be doing the rest of our lives, and limits us to that one early decision. It's harder to do when you're older, if the opportunity arises. And, if something doesn't work out, and you need to change paths, having a wider base of knowledge to draw from really helps facilitate that change.

*********

There's a huge amount of truth in my statement that 14 y/o John never would have believed 30 y/o me about what I'd need to know. I've done some posts chronicling my HS, undergraduate, and graduate career, with tidbits of advice. I've grown a bit as a human since those posts (and definitely as a writer), and there are a few things that I've come to understand.

First, that 14 y/o John had no real idea what was best for future John. He thought he did, and so did all the people giving me advice. But, in the end, no one is clairvoyant, no one could see that I'd spend a week of my time learning C++ to do musical engraving. 14 y/o me would never have been able to fathom writing a solo cello piece, let alone being fed-up with how slow and bulky engraving is in Finale and Sibelius. He never would have understood when I learned how to engrave in Inkscape because notation software handles proportional notation horribly--especially if you're using ruler measurements not note-spacing (this should happen in 1.7mm as compared to this should happen every X amount of notes).

17 y/o John had petitioned his HS to allow him to take a compute programming course at a neighboring HS. They offered a C++ course, and he was very interested in getting into programming. He'd been an avid gamer (and I still am), and he felt like learning how to program might be a good step in that direction. His petition was rejected, and he took a course on "Business Computer Applications," which taught him little he didn't know--the introduction to Access was helpful, but the other 3/4 of the class--Word, Excel, and building a Geocities site--he already knew how to do (spoiler, I had a Geocities site before that class, and ended up having two! That's right, I had 2 Geocities sites!).

But before that, HS John was making mistakes. He had decided to take jazz band, band, and even choir instead of math courses. He never took anything beyond Algebra 2 as a sophomore. He was on the path to take Calc as a senior, but decided that "as a musician, I would never need this."

He was wrong.

In undergrad, as a music education major, there is not much wiggle room in the curriculum. The basic music curriculum is fairly open ended, but any and all free time is taken by the music education curriculum. Unlike in HS, where I felt 14 y/o John made mistakes, 18 y/o John didn't make any mistakes in his curriculum choices. There is no regret about taking conducting II, all the instrumental methods courses, or even the three 300 level lit courses 21 y/o John took in a desperate panic to graduate with a general music degree.

But still 21 y/o John had no idea what 29 y/o John would be doing.

My masters was much the same as undergraduate. Perhaps the one course 24 y/o John should have taken is the post-tonal theory course instead of the easier 20th century performance practice course. But even that course was great, as I got to work with  fantastic performer and scholar Douglas Hedwig. I learned PureData, tried learning CSound on my own (and failed), and started to see the deficits from my early educational mistakes.Still 24 y/o John only had an inkling where 30 y/o John was heading.

Flash forward, 28 y/o John is working on an interactive installation. He sees a major flaw in his plans--he lacks the skills to get the separate computer programs talking to each other. He scours the internet, finds bits of advice, but most of it is far beyond his understanding. His grasp of Java is weak (and it still is), and even though the programs have similarities, he's just not able to figure things out. The biggest sticking point? The underlying math, logic, and programming skills

Flash forward, 29 y/o John is trying to create a program for algorithmically generating music. It's something he's been intrigued by since 20 y/o John had met David Cope. 20 y/o John could grasp, conceptually, what Cope was doing, but had no idea how it worked. He filed it away for future reference. 24 y/o John had dabbled, and realized he had no requisite skills.

29 y/o John found himself locked in a lab while on a Fulbright, fighting the issue that he wanted music to be generated in real time during his dissertation. He wanted the computer to play an integral role to the development of his opera.

29 y/o John made the realization that 27 y/o John had a feeling about, 24 y/o John had an inkling, 21 y/o John had a small clue, 17 y/o John had a dream about, and 14 y/o John had absolutely no idea existed in the world--that without higher mathematics, his ability to program control into his patches was doomed.

So, 29 y/o John learned what he could. He read up on Markov chains, different processes for generating large amounts of data based on constraints, math, math, math.

He threw his mouse more than once. There was a couple months where he subsisted mainly on coffee, cigarettes, and bourbon. But he learned...

Just not enough.

Now I sit here plugging away at LilyPond. It's much easier than when I was teaching myself HTML and CSS at 17, then again in undergrad. It was easier than learning Pd in class during my masters. It's easier then when I tried to learn CSound, LilyPond, and Processing on my own, and failed at each. Each language builds off the last. Each bit of mathematics I learn for a project, builds and builds...but I still have no real understanding of calculus, or how to model higher mathematical functions. When I look at complex answers for fixing spacing in LilyPond, I blanch. No, it'll be easier for me to fix as an SVG. When I still think about creating a program to generate music notation in real-time, my heart races, and my thought is "Must.Find.Programmer..." (this is no longer a part of my dissertation, as it has evolved in a different way since those thoughts).

All this comes back to what 14 y/o John thought was going to be best for me. He was wrong. As are most HS students. Even those with the best intentions are often wrong. I've learned that the only thing I know for certain is that I have little idea what my future self may need to complete any given task.

So I offer this advice--do not choose an educational path because you think you want to do "X" for your entire life. In HS, push yourself and take the advanced courses. It's not to say that all the playing and singing didn't help prepare me to be a musicians, but in my choice to specialize early, I've come to realize that I succeeded in specializing--almost too well.

If you have the chance to learn something, learn it. Learn algebra, geometry, trigonometry, and calculus. Learn programming languages and mathematical logic. Learn to sing, dance, play instruments, paint, carpentry, plumbing, circuits, and electricity. Make your choices to learn one of the other when you have to, but do it for the right reasons. And never choose not to learn something because you don't think it will be valuable.

That was the real choice I made--not to learn to play jazz, or to learn to sing in a group. My choice was I did not think calculus, statistics, or any other math was going to be valuable. That may seem like a semantic difference, but it's really not. I made the wrong choice because my reasoning was wrong, not because math is more important than jazz band or choir.

Never miss a chance to learn--it's those missed opportunities that will haunt you later.

In honour of MLK Day

Martin Luther King Jr. was a visionary, a great leader, and a hard fighter for one of the greatest causes--equality for all people. His dream is worth fighting for, a dream worth sharing with all people.

When I look at America today, I still see the dream being fought over. Large swaths of Americans still feel disenfranchised, are disenfranchised. I see voting laws repealed, gerrymandering of congressional lines, and attacks against every minority there is, from citing that masculinity is the same thing as thuggish, misogynistic behaviour, and that feminists are destroying America. Young black men still have to fear for their lives based on racial stereotyping. And even within groups that fight for freedom, there is often division caused along racial, social, and political differences.

Several months ago, Phillip Kennicott wrote a scathing article attacking various initiatives in orchestras, in particular outreach. One of his points was that even with outreach, he didn't see any more minorities, especially African Americans and Latinos, in the St. Louis Youth Symphony. He cites this as an example of how it's not working.

I pose a different viewpoint.

In America today, African Americans and Latinos on average make less money. They work lower income jobs, and, by percentage, far fewer make it to management positions than Caucasians or people of Asian descent. Unemployment is also higher in these groups. Education is also a premium, with fewer African Americans and Latinos getting bachelor's degrees, and even fewer getting advanced degrees. (All information from Bureau of Labor Statistics, Department of Labor).

What does this translate to in terms of my own field?

There are those pushing music as a hobby pursuit. With less funding for schools, "hobbies" are being cut, namely music programs. Schools struggle to afford instruments for underprivileged students, so they call for local donations. Initiatives like "Play it Forward" exist to try and fill the gap, as do instrument lending programs in youth symphonies. But they're plagued by bad names (it took me a while to find "play it forward" via Google search. There are companies and other initiatives with that name), lack of funds, lack of direction, or they fail because they come too late (a donation of a quality instrument from a youth symphony is great, but first they have to get there). There was even a report in the UK that roughly 1/3 of families in the country don't have children playing instruments just because they can't afford them. I imagine numbers are similar in the US, though I couldn't find a report.

Education funding is cut, especially in urban areas. Opportunities don't exist for instruction in music making or in appreciation. As I've wandered through conservatories and schools, gone to festivals and conferences, and attended conferences, I see the same demographic in composers--Caucasian male. I see a bit more spread in performers, with more females and performers of Asian descent.

To me, the reason is simple. Outreach exists to fill those gaps, to bring music and opportunities to families that don't normally have them. When you're an African American family, and you make far less a week than a Caucasian family, are you going to spend your extra money on an expensive instrument, lessons, or outside activities? People bring up sports, but the sports most often dominated by lower income students are those where they aren't buying their own equipment, such as football (beyond the cleats, and maybe a football for home), basketball (a pair of shoes and a basketball, though in some schools even those are provided), and sometimes baseball (a mitt and cleats, both of which can be found used and cheap). I haven't seen a study, but I could see cost of equipment being a major factor for hockey (even used skates aren't cheap, let alone the two sticks you'll need, extra blades for the sticks, and all the padding...it adds up to a lot of money).

In my own field, I see the inequality, from the treatment of musicians, to their inclusion in the entire process. If the opportunities aren't there at a young age, how can they be expected to "appear" at an older age? If they're never exposed to different types of music at a young age, how can they expect to appreciate them later? Buried in the middle of this NY Times op-ed is a tidbit stating that 14 is a "magical year for cultural tastes." I've only scratched the surface of this book (found online), but it starts out working through a sociological basis of building cultural taste, and the effects during youth (I apologize to the authors if this is not for public consumption. I will take it down immediately if that is so--it just popped up on the first page of my search for "youth and the development of musical taste" and I started reading. It's a doctoral dissertation, I believe, but those are published for real sometimes).

There's much and more than can be said on these topics. Most notably, I mention no specifics on how to fix any of these issues. They are, to me at least, symptoms of a larger problem. But we can start by starting initiatives to make sure music is taught in school, and not just as a performance medium, but as a part of arts and cultural appreciation. More ways need to be found to provide services to young students that want to learn the arts, from programs like Play it Forward, to expanding the opportunities and affordability of private lessons. There's much and more to be done, and is being done by many groups.

This is just a small part of MLK's dream, I know. It's more a symptom showing how inequality still affects our "post-everything" world. If opportunities were equal, wages the similar, social mobility the same, I do believe we'd see a completely different outlook for music. In my five years of teaching, I've had the chance to work with students in Brooklyn, college and high school aged, as well as community college students in Kansas City, state university students in KC, and students of all ages in rural Indiana. I've tried, at each stop and each level, to show every student a somewhat wider view of music, give opportunities to grow and expand, doing whatever I could to offer help and guidance regardless of any background, be it social, gender, sexual, racial, economic, or other disabilities. But there's so much more than can and should be done.

The fight for MLK's dream is not over. This is not a post-anything world, as there may never truly be a post-world. And so I ask each reader of this blog to think about your place in this society, and how you can make a difference. I'd like to think that my words, my music, and my actions together can help in some small way, at least on a personal level. It's not much, but it's within each of our powers to do that little thing.

Thoughts on outreach

Philip Kennicott's long article is full of ideas. One area of his concern was that orchestras are straying from their principle goal. to play great music, and spending too much (wasted) time on outreach. He talks about how in 1993, orchestras were "strong-armed" to "think about their community's needs, not their traditional role as custodian of a musical tradition." For Kennicott, this equated to pops orchestras proliferating. He discussed how subscription services had the many Beethoven loves subsidizing the minority of listeners and their "idiosyncratic" tastes. And he later pointed out the fact that the St. Louis Symphony, with all it's focus on education, still had very few African Americans in the St. Louis Youth Symphony.

I see these as two distinctly different problems. In one part, I agree with Kennicott--pops orchestras have proliferated, and those are indeed somewhat separate from the main service of the orchestra. Pops are the new subscription service subsidy. Why wouldn't a group like the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra do almost an entire month of holiday concerts? I'm sure it generates more revenue than their "Lily Series" (funded, of course, by Eli Lily). Kennicott views the cultural and financial problems as being intertwined.

I do not.

I see a different problem in outreach. When I see empty seats during a "classical" concert, I wonder why. When I see sold out concerts to the pops, with many of the same faces around me as the classical concert, I wonder why. And when I don't see many African Americans in the audience or the groups playing, I wonder why.

I think the problem is outreach. For one, I don't see pops concerts as outreach at all. And if orchestra management views them that way (which Kennicott says, and he does have insider information, as his article was written in response to the orchestra league meeting), then that is a major problem. I wholeheartedly agree with Kennicott there. But, if they're such a bad thing, why do I see the same subscription faces at the pops as I do at classical concerts? Because Kennicott and many others really need to face a harsh reality: the group of listeners that are really into Beethoven, Brahms, Schumann, classical and contemporary classical music, and all the "serious stuff" and only the serious stuff, is incredibly small. It is definitely the huge minority.

I like to use my grandmother as an example. She's in her late 80s and enjoys orchestral music, though she is far from a raving fan. She likes Beethoven and many other Classical and Romantic composers. You know who she loves? And I mean absolutely adores?

Andre Rieu.

You know what else she loves? Jazz orchestras. Benny Goodman, Lawrence Welk. The old guys. She absolutely adores them.

In fact, she is much more likely to go to a show similar to those than Beethoven, even though if you ask her she'll say she likes Beethoven. And I don't have a problem with that. I don't have a problem with an orchestra playing a bunch of holiday concerts (which my grandmother also enjoys. Her favourite of all favourite things is Andre Rieu's New Years concert).

Now, I don't like Andrew Rieu. I'm always reminded of this article in the Daily Mail. But Andre Rieu is not outreach. No pops concerts are outreach concerts.

What, then, is outreach? Or, perhaps a better question, what should be outreach?

My first thought is one toward Kennicott. He obviously dislikes a large swath of "contemporary classical" music. He definitely dislikes music that is more than purely instrumental. And genre crossing. So, my little brain with its continuously spinning wheels (driven by some sort of bandicoot, I assume).

This kind, not the Crash kind.
from http://www.wildlife.org.au/wildlife/livingwithwildlife/image/bandicoot.jpg

My first thought is there's a good chance Kennicott, and many others, hadn't heard anything like this until long after their formative years. And, by then, it may already be too late. Not everyone can remain incredibly flexible in their thinking and appreciation. Slowly we all start to get "set in our ways." It's not entirely a bad thing.

Then I start thinking about a presentation by Benjamin Zander. If you're a classical nut, or in the Boston area, you've probably heard of him. He conducts the Boston Phil, among many other things. If you're into Ted Talks, you may have also seen this:

Every single board member, executive, and administrator in a symphony needs to watch this. Ya know what, go ahead and have the musicians watch it too.

While I don't agree with his overly Romantic language at times, and priming everyone with the "remember a dear one you miss dearly" is a bit of a cop out,* it's a video that strikes to the heart of the matter.

Stop. Producing. For. 3%. Of. The. Audiences. And STOP. WISHING. FOR. 4%!

I, personally, think outreach with listeners of all ages (but especially younger listeners), meaningful talks and presentations, MORE CONCERTS, and open discussion will bring in new audiences. I'd guess Zander would agree. We may get along...Though he's much nicer than I am (at least as a public persona).

A final kicker on outreach--Do you know why there aren't tons of urban youths in the St. Louis Youth Symphony? Or in most youth symphonies? Money. Not money for the symphony.

Money for the kids. Listen to this from NPR

String instruments are incredibly expensive. The setup cost is fairly prohibitive for many low-income families. And where do low-income families live? Urban and rural areas. Toss in cost of travel to/from rehearsals, the lessons needed to even pass the audition process, the cost to be in the symphony (many are not free, though you can fill out a wonderful form that can often get you some scholarship) and all of a sudden things are getting priced out of the range of many students.

Schools make up for this by giving instruments to students. This is fantastic. Most schools don't have enough instruments. Programs regarding use range from "you can take this and use it as long as you need it/play professionally" (I can think of a great program in Dallas like this), to "well, we all have to share, so, you can sign out days to take it home...maybe." And that's often for larger instruments, like cellos and basses. In the brass world it's often euphonium/baritones, horns, and tubas (the three most expensive beginning instruments).

Take it from me: my brother is just starting down this classical musician road. He's older and paying for everything himself. Right now he's leasing a $2100 student cello. By the end of the lease, he will have paid double for the instrument. But a single guy, on his own, going to school and working p/t as best he can can't really afford $2100 for the cello, plus another $100 or so for the cheap bow, straight out of pocket. So he, like many other younger performers, is making due as best he can. In his case, he's got an instrument on rental. For many other poor performers, they're on loan from schools.

And that is a disservice, and a place for outreach--free or inexpensive lessons (maybe less often, $10-$15 a half hour), donation of instruments (either permanently or on an "as needed basis"), sectionals (free), outreach concerts, etc. Tons of room here to grow.

Some orchestras are great about this. Some do well in their immediate metropolitan. Other, small groups don't do well with this at all. I never once met an orchestra musician in HS. There was a local orchestra in the nearest town, and I never met any of the players. Maybe it's because we didn't have a string program? Maybe I would have been interested and switched if I HAD met someone. Maybe not--but the experience was never there. I never heard a string quartet live till college. I heard a symphonic work...once? And I think that was a 6th grade trip to see the Nutcracker.

My experience isn't unique--it's the norm for rural areas. Rural areas get the shaft just like urban areas, just in different fashions.

Suffice it to say, I really think groups--not just orchestras but pretty much all arts organizations--do need to do a better job with outreach. The US is a country that isn't investing in education. Arts education is the first to get cut.

And this is where professional artists, musicians, dancers, actors, directors, theatrical technicians, and any strong amateur groups NEED to step up. We need to be giving concerts and talks in schools and in the community. We need to be offering opportunities and helping people of all ages enjoy music, not just in the concerts we present, but through a chance for them to perform, and opportunities to work with master musicians for as small a cost (or free) as possible. This isn't about "making money"--that's what the symphony gig, teaching job, compositions, etc are for. This is volunteer work, like what many others do with non-profits every year. It's about growing the arts community through action, not just exhibition. Because if people are reached at this point, and are given chances to go see concerts, they will support the groups, see the shows, and even donate money. But FIRST they have to think it's important.


Because art and music isn't for 3% or 4% of the people. It's for 100%. Most people just haven't had a chance to open their ears in a legitimate experience multiple times in their lives.

The essence of an open mind.

every once in a while you listen to a piece you're "supposed" to hate. It's not "original" enough. It's by someone that just pumped out music without taking time to craft it. It's kitsch. It's poorly orchestrated. It's too harmonically simple. It's predictable.

Everything you've been "taught" tells you to hate it. No one tells you to listen to it, but you do anyway, because you think "I can learn something from anything, be it what to do or what not to do."

So, you listen. The opening line is kitschy, tonal, simple. The orchestral tutti later is trite. The section that follow is done as block chords a la a hymn. Everything you've been "taught" tells you that you shouldn't like. There's even a fugue, a simply created fugue, not a double mensuration canon, just a straight forward fugue, constructed well enough. Not as impressive as Bach. The orchestration is the standard Romantic fair, almost formulaic in its accumulation. A trumpet hits the melody just before the next tutti. You want to groan. Everything you've been taught says you shouldn't like this piece.

And, maybe, most other days you wouldn't like it. But today, you're listening because other people told you how new music is dead, how it's not complex enough while citing Beethoven as the example. You tuned in after reading blogs and articles all morning discussing what's wrong with symphonies, what is the American symphony, criticism of every style possible, the symphonic music, in general, is a complete waste of time and money. You pulled up this piece because you knew exactly what it was--the title said it all. You knew the composer, and could guess exactly what would happen.

Even as the first movement ends with block chords, timpani rolls, bells chiming, you're wondering why you haven't shut it off. The second movement kicks in--a jig. Less Irish and more American barn dance. You don't even bother looking at the title: knowing the composer it's probably titled after the tempo. The violins are fiddlin' away. Now you're really thinking "I should really hate this right now." Then brass blaring repeated chords, chimes, and a forlorn English horn melody. It's a late enough piece you wonder how much film music played into the creation of the piece--less Korngold and more John Williams. Another trumpet solo with undulating strings. Your stomach is what should be undulating...but still, you listen. Are you waiting for the train wreck? Like the piece from a few days ago which was so horrific you forwarded it to all your friends with the title "BEST.PIECE.EVER!" much like you pranked them with Tough Guys Don't Dance? Meanwhile a piccolo starts a duet with the English horn. This is the first moment you shudder, mainly from the thought of "Oh God, no, not a piccolo" but it doesn't destroy your ears as you thought. It's almost...pleasant? As the brass come in blaring the melody you start to wonder about the construction: so much direct repetition of a single melody is offense 1 in any composition course. Development, development, development! We're even told the minimalists developed ideas, just a single idea.

The strings break your wandering thoughts, cascading lines--another barn dance. Canonic. The bass drum, timpani, and chimes spell out the underlying pulse. Your foot is tapping. Why in the name of...Seriously, why is your foot tapping! This should have you on the floor gasping for breath, wishing someone would turn off the racket. But, you don't reach to turn it off. You're listening as the whole group spirals out of control till the brass enter, predictably. The tuba player shines, somehow becoming your focus. Who focuses on the tuba at a time like this? They release the chord and you're starting to wonder if your sanity is gone...

Harp, oboe, strings. No one writes for harp these days. You used to think there was good reason, but now you're wondering why not? And you're trying to remember the pedalings and realize you don't write for harp because it terrifies you...and you're afraid no harpist would play what you wrote. Strings in canon again. That's at least three times the composer has used canons as a transition--there were probably a few more but they slipped by you. The harp and oboe come back, simple melody, repetitive accompaniment. You should be reaching to turn it off because you just know the fourth movement will start off with...

A chorale. Yes, the chorale has returned. You knew it even before the first notes were played. There was no excitement in realizing you were right--the musical guessing game ending before this piece even began. Canon, again with the canons. You're finally starting to dislike the piece, but only a little. You're starting to wonder "If I was an orchestra conductor, would I program this? I think I would." As the basses and cellos move their stepwise bassline you're wondering how much flak you'd take for programming this piece, and if you'd even care. The audience might like it, as it's more Mendelssohn than Lachenmann. Then you wonder if you could program it with a Lachenmann piece...All the while the chorale is still going in the background, orchestrational pairings are just as you'd expect then horns holding a chord. Then pizzicato strings...then...oboe? What is the oboe playing? What mode is that? The line is being passed through the woodwinds. This passage you really shouldn't like. It's reached the point of buffoonery--there's not one ounce of development, just theme to theme to theme, repetition, canon, orchestrational change. Everything you've learned says this is a lesser piece. You know it's a lesser piece. It's backwards thinking. This piece came out around the same time as Christopher Rouse's Gorgon, and it's about as far an antithesis as can exist.

Another theme. Related? Back at the dance. A canonic entrance of voices, the first few notes repeated. The closest thing to development that's happened the whole piece. Even the second half of the melody is just a transposition of the first phrase. The brass enter with their chorale one more time because "Why not?". There's a sudden harmonic shift. It's jarring...At this point you must be sitting there because you've made it the first 30 minutes so what's another three at this point? That has to be the reason. Orchestral tutti of the chorale. The final chords...was that I-V7-I? Crescendo and release...

You sit for a minute, stunned. You just listened to a 33 minute piece that all your schooling said "dislike this." It was kitschy--oh golly was it kitschy. You hate kitsch. It was trite...or was it? Something didn't feel trite about it. Folk style themes for an orchestra in an unadulterated manner usually equals trite...right?

You're still thinking about it. You're not reaching for Berio, Ligeti, or Ferneyhough. Not even going for Shostacovich. Just the fan is your accompaniment.

Why don't you hate this piece? If you listen tomorrow, you probably will. Your gut says that two listenings may be too many. There's not enough substance there. Heck, even a Lost Prophets song takes more than one listening just to get all the words...But, right now, you don't hate it. You kind of liked it. May the contemporary composition gods forgive you, you kind of liked it. This was Mendelssohn with a large orchestra. This.is.not.the.music.of.1985. It is not the music of now. It's a music of yesteryear.

And you're ok with it. You click back over to Naxos and start looking for more American symphonies written after 1980. That's your listening for today. But it sticks with you...

This piece that, by all accounts, by all learning, by your own goddamn taste, you should hate.

You didn't.

And you're happy you listened to the whole thing, gave the music a real chance. It seems like many composers musicians critics listeners people wouldn't do that.

The piece, some might be wondering? Alan Hovhaness' Symphony No. 60 "To the Appalachian Mountains." Couldn't find a video, but it's on Naxos.

And I know I'll hate it tomorrow. But, for today, I'm alright with myself.

That is the essence of an open mind.

Is "reading" music fundamental?

   In the UK, a new 224 page national education curriculum is going up for a vote in August. Somewhere in the back of the document, for a few scant pages (three to be exact), outlines the most basic ideas of music education: the purpose, aim, and target "attainment" levels for key stages 1-3 (or through age 14). The three pages are barebones, giving only the passing nod to ideas such as "use(ing) technology appropriately..." which is an area I've heard a fair bit about during the last year.

   Instead, it moves onto the subheading of the original article that brought this to my attention. Over at ClassicFm an article briefly introduced the idea that the national curriculum was changing. It waxes poetic on the beautiful idea that "music is a universal language," which, while a beautiful idea, isn't exactly true. But, again, that's for another time...

   It's the focus on music notation that caught my eye. The subheading states "by 2021 every 14 year old will be able to read music if the new curriculum is approved in August." That's a claim!

   The inclusion of being able to read notation in national curriculum's isn't new. NAfME (National Association for Music Education) has reading and notation music as a part of its national standards as well. So, I'm not surprised by the inclusion--if anything I'm somewhat surprised it's news. I'm not as up on UK educational systems, but it'd be surprising if there wasn't some cursory mention of reading and notating music at some level.

   But all this made me ask a question: is reading and writing music fundamental to a liberal arts style education?

    Seems like an odd question for someone finishing a doctorate in music composition to ask. I'm questioning whether something that for an active musician is fundamental. Or is it at that?

    Let me take this back a couple steps. What is, according to the new national curriculum in the UK, the purpose of studying music?

   "Music is a universal language that embodies one of the highest forms of creativity. A high-quality music education should engage and inspire pupils to develop a love of music and their talent as musicians, and so increase their self-confidence, creativity and sense of achievement. As pupils progress, they should develop a critical engagement with music, allowing them to compose, and to listen with discrimination to the best in the musical canon"

   Alright, poetic start. Inspiring pupils to develop love music, talent as musicians, self-confidence, creativity, achievement; all great ideas. Develop critical engagement with music, allowing them to compose, and listen with discrimination...also all good.

   My gut reaction is, of course "Man, I hope they get more than the once a week thing I grew up with in elementary school before I joined band. That's a lot to try and fit into those 32 hours a year you see a student."

   The aims get more specific and break down three main areas

• perform, listen to, review, and evaluate music across a range of historical periods, genres, styles, and traditions, including works of the great composers and musicians
• learn to sing, create and compose music on their own and with others, have the opportunity to learn an instrument, use technology appropriately
• understand and explore how music is created, produced, and communicated through pitch, dynamics, tempo, timbre, structure, and appropriate musical notations.

   So it took until the last two words to sneak musical notation in, tacked onto the end of what musicians call "the fundamentals of music." But is notation really fundamental?

    What's interesting to me is everything stated above until you hit those last two words, I could teach entirely without notation. If music is a language, then one could say that performing music is like speaking, and notation is like the written word. Except, there's a fundamental difference: even great musicians can't look at a score and hear the entire symphony in their head, especially if it's a symphony they've never heard! Musicians call that skill "Audiation." I believe it was coined by Edwin Gordon, and it was probably made most famous in "The Music Man" when Harold Hill discusses the "Think System." And, yes, I know that Gordon's theories on audiation are not the same as Hill's Think System, and that, yes, "The Music Man" Came out about 13 years before Gordon coined the term. But the idea of thinking about music, hearing it in your head, then playing it dates back much further than that...

   Point being this idea that the notation isn't realized until performance. We can "hear" a great deal in our heads, especially if we train ourselves to. But it's also a more difficult skill than learning music through action. Ok, so, learning music through action. That's a big part of many music education philosophies: Kodaly is all about learning music through singing, Orff is a combination of performing on specially designed percussion instruments, singing, and dancing (originally folk dancing), and Dalcroze/Eurythmics focuses a great deal on motion, the body, and singing (from an understanding of the body). Learning music by doing is a great thing. But does it require notation?

   Some of my favourite memories of learning Orff was learning about teaching composition to young students. We had all sorts of tools: felt or magnetic bars for bar notation (in this case, not having a traditional staff or rhythms, just short and long bars with relative height), various other symbols such as fruit and worms, and stories...

    I loved the stories. I loved the creativity that came along with writing a piece by using a story. The first exercises were "I'm going to tell you a story, when we reach certain parts, we'll come up with special music for it. Otherwise, we'll use ostinatos in the background (ostinatos are a big core of Orff playing)." The group would start playing, and after a little while, the teacher would say "It was a dark and stormy night. What would be good music for a storm?" You'd get through the piece, a little bit at a time, till the whole thing was learned, and the students could perform it. No "appropriate" notation required. Eventually, you can turn it into more games, having students come up with the next part of the story and the music. 

    You can also use a nice step-wise progression of "long and short" heighted (where you can see a difference in pitch height, but no staff lines) to get into long and short on a staff that corresponds to their pentatonic scale (when they're young, you keep the kids on pentatonic. Easier that way, no "wrong notes). The students can move things around, write new pieces, while slowly learning all the notation. It's effective, and a lot of fun. 

   I remember coming up with a game for fourth graders based on a twelve tone matrix--but instead of a twelve tone idea, it was a game of rhythms and melodies, made up of only a 6x6 grid, and overlays that could change the rhythms. You could flip the board any which way, read melodies "upside-down and backwards" and all that. But it still wasn't "appropriate" music notation--but it got to a much more "difficult" bit of musical thinking; how composers developed ideas to create new but related ideas. Heady for fourth graders. But what they saw was a game that they could manipulate, where a student could choose a path (and oh, they started choosing crooked paths, and I found that fun as well!) and we'd sing through the ideas together, me at the piano plunking it out first, then everyone singing with the piano, then just singing. But, still...no notation...

   And the kids were singing, or they were playing. No reading involved. Of course, if any of those students wanted to go into band or orchestra, they'd definitely need to learn to read music. But not everyone wants to do that...

   I guess I'm awkwardly moving to a point. The goal is fantastic to have. But, how many hours do you really get these young students in a general music class room? It becomes a bit of "what is 'most' important in all these important things." What do we really want younger students to get out of a music education, that can make a lasting impression, and keep with them forever.

   My school was an "odd" duck, and I accept that. There weren't too many students who, at one time or another, were not in band or choir. Granted, most of the band kids left by middle school, but they had time to learn a bit of an instrument, basics of reading notation, participate in concerts, etc. With choir in middle school, many joined up that preferred singing to band, and in HS when band and choir started overlapping, there was attrition between the two--but a vast majority still participated in one or the other at some point. Did those that didn't participate dislike music?

   Oh hell no--many were even more into music, just not that kind of music. What then, thinking about education from K-12 in the US, is really the purpose of music, and where does notation fit into that? One of the things I've always found unfortunate is that after elementary school, music education falls away for many students--if you're not in a band or choir, there isn't a music class for you. The idea being "well, everyone can sing, so if they want to sing, they can do music." Well, yes, that's true, but, what about everything else in music?

    What about those bits about being discerning, knowing the history, knowing the great composers? Did we all get that really well in band? I mean, Beethoven didn't write a HS band piece, and while there may be some odd arrangement of his third symphony for HS band, it's not really the same as learning the piece, is it? What about the use of technology, recording, etc? And exploring how music is created, produced, and communicated? It's almost as if we're saying "Hey, by the time you're in middle school in America, it's time to get 'serious' about this STEM thing, keep up your English in as much as being able to communicate is important, and the arts and other humanities can start to fall away." 

   Let me be blunt: classical music in America is dying, slowly, of old age. The audiences aren't getting younger, and we're not drawing them in. The ones that are drawn to that music were the students that were in orchestra, band, and choir in HS, which I accept is, normally, not a large percentage of the school. And even then, most start to fall away from "classical" music quickly. And then how many from HS go onto some degree in music, and then they either stick with it or fall away after undergrad.

    But there's this other music that's around, ya know, everywhere. Popular music, dance music, indie bands with ukeleles and mandolins (or mandoguitars), dance music, heavy metal, rap, on and on and on. And, some of these musicians learned to read music, might have even been heavily classically trained, and use that to their advantage. They come up with entirely creative things...

   Then there are those that don't read any music, and only think "holy crap, this guitar chord sounds awesome, and so does this one! and I can move between them! Hey, where are those lyric sheets, I bet I can come up with a melody for this...oh man, this is baller." They can read some tab, maybe chord symbols, but not "traditional" notation. Or they sit in front of a computer, making music all day, and coming up with unique sounds...without any knowledge of the acousmatic genre, Denis Smalley, or Pierre Schaeffer. 

   And we listen. We all listen. Constantly. iPods and iPhones are everywhere, people in their own worlds with their own soundtracks. I'm the odd one, being a musician, sitting here with only the sound of my fans, and clicking of keys and being more than content in the lack of music. And yet we have this horde of listeners, of people consuming music in a way that was unfathomable even 25 years ago. And definitely not 90 some years ago when Orff and his colleagues were coming up with Orff Schulwerk, or by Orff's death in 1982. 

   I sit here wondering, without answers, if, maybe, music education needs to shift with the times. By middle school, music education is mostly about performance. By high school it definitely is. Is that a dated mentality--no longer is music only consumed by it's playing, by attending a concert and getting a single chance to hear a song. Records, magnetic tape, and radio started changing how most people interact with music. The walkman gave mobility to the masses, and freedom from the radio. And now, instead of having a bulky collection of tapes or CDs, thousands of songs are stored a device that travels with us everywhere, earbuds in, tuning out the world. Has classical music missed the boat, holding on desperately to outdated models?

   I don't think the music itself is old--I think my music has something to say to this time, not 100 years ago, and maybe only slightly to 100 years in the future. But I do think how we approach music in education may be holding on far too much to old practices.

    What is the answer? No idea. I would love for everyone to be able to read music, enjoy playing an instrument (any instrument!), and interact with music through performance at home. It's romantic, this idea of salon music, music happening communally instead of individually, and with a more personal attachment to the music making. But do we fight for that idea, actively, or do we just hold to traditions for the sake of holding to traditions? And would more people be engaged by classical music if it was approached another way?

   I don't know...But it's something I think about a lot...About my role, as a living composer of "contemporary concert music," as a musician on an "antiquated" instrument like a trombone, and as an audio engineer that sees kids consuming and using technology without understanding what's happening. I don't know if there are any answers, but I often ask "what can I do?"

 

   I have some ideas on that...one is I'm not sure if teaching all students to read formal "appropriate" notation is the answer to "what can I do?" Especially since not everything I write uses "appropriate" notation by the standards of classical music.