I am not what anyone would describe as a musical conoisseur. Not that I can't enjoy it; I hope I can just about escape Shakespeare's devastating remark
The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils;
The motions of his spirit are dull as night
And his affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such man be trusted.
— The Merchant of Venice V, i
It's just that it's not easy for me. I can happily spend 20 minutes looking at a Velazquez painting, but the same time listening to a complex orchestral piece would be tough going.
I've recently been listening in the car to a CD a friend gave me of the great cellist Rostropovich playing Dvorak's Cello Concerto (plus Tchaikovsky's Rococo Variations, which I was recently informed was not the 4th movement!) and after about seven or eight listens I am really starting to enjoy it. There are passages I still can't follow, but gradually I'm beginning to get the idea. A couple of weeks ago I heard that Mstislav Rostropovich had died at the age of 80, and last night I happened by accident on the last half hour of a TV tribute to his life ... click "Read more"
It turns out that this was not just a great musician, but a great man. Miraculously talented as a cellist, he was also by the by a concert pianist and one of the greatest conductors. He commissioned works from all of the best composers of the 20th and 21st Centuries, championed the cause of Shostakovich and Solzhenitsyn (for which he was eventually exiled), played an impromptu concert to celebrate at the Berlin Wall when it was torn down, and stood shoulder to shoulder in the Russian parliament with Yeltsin and the others when Gorbachev was overthrown in a military coup. He was also fantastically generous with his time and money, leading a campaign to vaccinate millions of Russian children against hepatitis, and supporting from his own funds dozens of young musicians too poor to pay for their own education. He said "friendship is the most important thing in the world".
He told a story of how, as a young musician he had been travelling with five others in a train through the night in the Russian winter. Each of them had only one blanket and Rostropovich was so cold that he lay down to sleep, with only the sincere hope that he would never wake up. Some while later he opened his eyes to find that all of the others had piled their blankets on top of him. He was visibly moved at the memory: in all of his life, he said, he had tried to emulate this act of kindness; but nothing he had ever done came close to those blankets.
The programme closed with a film of Rostropovich, at the height of his powers in 1974, playing the final movement of ... Dvorak's Cello Concerto. It was tremendous to see him play - so big and forceful, and yet so light. I felt that he was giving of himself, just as in his life he had given to others so freely, conscious only of the music. At the end, clearly exhausted, he embraced the conductor and some of his fellow players, as if they had all come through a long, dangerous ocean voyage together.
I'm sorry if I don't have a point to make here. This was just something that inspired me and I wanted to write it down.
6 comments:
What is evoked from this post is:
'Making a point' has a fair amount of 'agency' in it wheareas speaking from inspiration doesn't. With inspiration, the sense of agency is a block to its flowing. With 'making a point' there is a 'doer' armed with the intent of making someone else understand something.
I may have shared this, I don't remember:
Once at Art in Action a gentleman was telling me that he was really enjoying his economics class. I don't remember much of what he said, but I was just struck by the natural, flowing enthusiasm. This was the first time I had heard mention of economics without an undercurrent of "you're ignorant, selfish etc if you aren't interested in this". I feel things have changed since this time but what remains with me is that the enthusiasm or inspiration is a better teacher than 'making a point'. It's natural, not forced.
Tolkien wrote in his forward to LOTR that he disliked "conscious and intentional allegory". I think this is the same thing.
Now, am I making a point here...
Hi Kapila,
I'm not sure - is that your pencil I feel sticking in my ribs?
;-o
You're right though. Better just to respond and see what happens. The whole thing of "doing good" is a curse. I suppose that was what was coming across to me with Rostropovich ... he was very active and in many ways a leader, but he seemed to do it without any point-making.
Maybe that was what I saw in his playing - immensely strong and skilful, sure-footed, 100% committed, but with no a sense of himself doing it.
Kevin said:
"I'm not sure - is that your pencil I feel sticking in my ribs?"
Not at all. Just that in your closing comment you said:
"I'm sorry if I don't have a point to make here. This was just something that inspired me and I wanted to write it down."
I was trying to say that there's nothing wrong with speaking from inspiration without a 'point'. And, in fact, 'making a point' can get in the way of inspirational flow. I apply this to everyone, including myself.
Your enthusiasm came through in the post.
I was only joking - no need for the reassurances!
...there's just no pleasing some people.
; )
I don't know if the following tip would help when listening to music - but it's recently been a revelation to me, so I offer it for what it's worth.
I have no difficulty in 'listening' to anything that has a 'tune' or a rhythm or repetition - some structure to it as well as harmonious sounds. But it tends to wash over me, leaving me free to go away on flights of fancy. In other words, it becomes a carpet of sound.
To counter this I found that following the sound of a particular instrument in the orchestra focused attention. It was still possible to hear everything else, but following one instrument made it easier to collect together what had been scattered attention.
It doesn't matter which instrument you choose but obviously it is better to follow one that's playing for much of the time.
I mentioned this technique to a friend who was nodding off at a Handel concert recently. He tried it in the second half and reported success.
Looking at it now, it seems to me that a full orchestra is too much for anyone who isn't musically trained. Or perhaps the training is to listen to one instrument? I find that even an ensemble can send me to sleep and that listening to one instrument introduces an effective element of active attention.
For the same reason - as Kevin noted - watching the performers playing their instruments helps bring the music to life.
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