Dear Herr Mozart:
I am writing this letter to tell you Happy Birthday on January 27, and to tell you thanks for writing such stunning and beautiful music. Unlike many composers who came before and after you and whose music is relegated mostly to academic study with an occasional professional performance, your music has withstood the test of time for many generations. I am not entirely sure what makes your music stand out compared to other composers. Perhaps it is the result of balance and drama coming together for music that is always emotionally satisfying. At times the phrases sound conversational, as if two people are discussing something fun or profound, while at other times the phrases sound very goal-directed, energizing as they move toward a bold musical moment. I believe the natural balance of your music is due to the mathematical ordering of pitches and sometimes rhythm. You might disagree with me on this but your music could be seen as a nearly perfect aural rendition of the Fibonacci numerical series. I am not saying it makes your music objective and mathematically sterile at all, but it does give it a natural sense of balance and flow. In fact, I must point out that the emotional and expressive qualities are what sets much of your music apart from other composers.
To be more specific, your music is sensitive, powerful, clever, witty, emotional, dramatic, and at times transformational. In addition to melodies that somehow are both singable and unpredictable, harmonies that are clever, smooth, and creative, counterpoint that is both congruent and independent, and sounds that pour out of your pen almost effortlessly, I believe it is your judicious yet directed use of non-harmonic tones that sets apart your music. I marvel at the accented non-harmonic tones and the constant motion of tension and repose that your music presents at almost every turn. As a scale moves quickly up, it is suddenly concluded with a note out of the harmony that moves seamlessly back into the supporting chord. It is simply amazing the way the tones move in and out of the harmony while adding so much power to the music.
My personal favorites, you may ask? All the horn music from the chamber pieces to the concertos I will play until I cannot play the horn anymore. The late symphonies are amazing and the piano concertos continue to be enticing. But instrumental music aside, it is those last few operas where I find the greatest joy and unparalleled expression. I really wish you had lived longer but in spite of a relatively short life, your production rate was astounding and, in a way, you have lived many lives through the application of your music throughout time. I will never get tired of listening to The Magic Flute, Don Giovanni, Cosi fan Tutte, or the Marriage of Figaro.
All this to say, Happy Birthday Herr Mozart and thanks for the beautiful music that continues to fascinate and move me. You would have been 258 years old today, January 27 and, in a way, your music keeps you alive and well.
Sincerely,
Robert Tucker, PhD, MBA
Monday, January 27, 2014
Sunday, January 19, 2014
The Joy of Discovery
Improvising on the piano is the art of discovering new ways to express old ideas. This is particularly true when remaining in a tonal framework. A word on tonality is in order before proceeding much further. As an academically trained musician with a great deal of professional experience, I love and seek out new sounds and new ways to express music. Yet, the truth is that tonality has played its hand and is most likely complete in its newness at least in the broadest sense. Not that there are not new ideas springing forth each day from creative people that remain within tonal parameters, but without going outside the normal diatonic range of notes within a key, it is difficult to be entirely original when it comes to harmonic expression. Most improvisers are slightly influenced by sounds they have heard before and their improvisation is often an amalgamation of their own creativity and originality with that of previously expressed music. My own influences on the piano are that of Floyd Cramer, Leonard Bernstein, Bill Evans, Claude Bolling, Michel LeGrand, Ken Medema, and the touching folk style of Stephen Foster.
That said, in a way it is an erroneous subject since tonality is a man-made systematic ordering of pitches into Western scales and keys. While it has been argued, and quite effectively, that tonality is a result of the natural harmonic series that exists in the sounds of nature and in fact may be the foundational design of all sound, when we add the human element, there really is no limitation of what sound can be. We are comfortable listening, singing, participating in music that is within our man-made key structure but this does not mean that other sounds do not play a valued albeit sometimes small role in our culture as well. My preference for the music of Oliver Messiaen, a composer who wrote music outside a typical tonal framework, is admirable in a sense but not common in our culture of popular music that people enjoy. Having followed careers of composers and various improvisers, I have seen examples of creative people who pushed the boundaries of tonality beyond that of mass appeal, only to lose the very audience who once responded positively. This may indeed be a diatribe against the tastes of untrained musicians, but it is also the recognition that taste and preference cannot be mandated, and, in the end, the economic concept of supply and demand once more rules the day in artistic expression. This is a tough pill to swallow for a creative artist.
Back to improvising. Knowing that tonality--music that stays within the typical key structure with a tonic note and emphasizes major, minor, and occasionally modal sounds--is the preferred sound for most people, when I improvise I remind myself to stay within that context. This is a challenge for me and most improvisers as we work to discover new sounds expressed within what could be seen as fairly strict sound parameters. When I find myself moving beyond the key and into new regions, I can almost feel the confusion and slight rejection by the people who are listening. Again, some may say this is due to a lack of discernment and education, but I, instead, see it as a vote against atonality or at least excessive creative experimentation in sound.
Yet I love the joy of discovery and it often feels like a roller coaster ride of fun when I branch out of the tonal framework and add new sounds to whatever I am playing at the moment. But I quickly reign myself in for the sake of the audience and cater to popular tastes while retaining my own brand of self-expression. Rather than being frustrated, I find the process liberating and joyful. That of being as creative as possible without losing the very people who support creativity. Such is the journey of artistry as we seek to discover new ways to express art but without the alienation of those who support the arts. My improvisation is only as good as the value that other people ascribe to it. Such is true of all things in the world. Value is in the mind.
If an artist, out of frustration of the lack of appreciation for his/her art, reaches the point where the audience does not matter, then the artist has abandoned the very purpose that art exists. Great art is not created in a vacuum only to reside for the creator. Great art is determined by the people, for the people, and with the people. Such is the dilemma of artistry and such is the opportunity for the artist: to find joy in discovery and recognize the value of the audience who in turn ascribes value to the sound being created. But push the envelope I occasionally must, for to progress and develop is to try new things and new ways of artistic expression.
That said, in a way it is an erroneous subject since tonality is a man-made systematic ordering of pitches into Western scales and keys. While it has been argued, and quite effectively, that tonality is a result of the natural harmonic series that exists in the sounds of nature and in fact may be the foundational design of all sound, when we add the human element, there really is no limitation of what sound can be. We are comfortable listening, singing, participating in music that is within our man-made key structure but this does not mean that other sounds do not play a valued albeit sometimes small role in our culture as well. My preference for the music of Oliver Messiaen, a composer who wrote music outside a typical tonal framework, is admirable in a sense but not common in our culture of popular music that people enjoy. Having followed careers of composers and various improvisers, I have seen examples of creative people who pushed the boundaries of tonality beyond that of mass appeal, only to lose the very audience who once responded positively. This may indeed be a diatribe against the tastes of untrained musicians, but it is also the recognition that taste and preference cannot be mandated, and, in the end, the economic concept of supply and demand once more rules the day in artistic expression. This is a tough pill to swallow for a creative artist.
Back to improvising. Knowing that tonality--music that stays within the typical key structure with a tonic note and emphasizes major, minor, and occasionally modal sounds--is the preferred sound for most people, when I improvise I remind myself to stay within that context. This is a challenge for me and most improvisers as we work to discover new sounds expressed within what could be seen as fairly strict sound parameters. When I find myself moving beyond the key and into new regions, I can almost feel the confusion and slight rejection by the people who are listening. Again, some may say this is due to a lack of discernment and education, but I, instead, see it as a vote against atonality or at least excessive creative experimentation in sound.
Yet I love the joy of discovery and it often feels like a roller coaster ride of fun when I branch out of the tonal framework and add new sounds to whatever I am playing at the moment. But I quickly reign myself in for the sake of the audience and cater to popular tastes while retaining my own brand of self-expression. Rather than being frustrated, I find the process liberating and joyful. That of being as creative as possible without losing the very people who support creativity. Such is the journey of artistry as we seek to discover new ways to express art but without the alienation of those who support the arts. My improvisation is only as good as the value that other people ascribe to it. Such is true of all things in the world. Value is in the mind.
If an artist, out of frustration of the lack of appreciation for his/her art, reaches the point where the audience does not matter, then the artist has abandoned the very purpose that art exists. Great art is not created in a vacuum only to reside for the creator. Great art is determined by the people, for the people, and with the people. Such is the dilemma of artistry and such is the opportunity for the artist: to find joy in discovery and recognize the value of the audience who in turn ascribes value to the sound being created. But push the envelope I occasionally must, for to progress and develop is to try new things and new ways of artistic expression.
Saturday, January 18, 2014
The Great Leveler
Leaving the hospital, and it was a beautiful day, I glanced back at the large institution known as Scott & White and realized I had been treated royally for one week. No, I did not receive a steak every night nor was I put on a pedestal. My opinion on every subject had no bearing on anything and my body was an open book for all to study. Not one person addressed me by my title and, furthermore, nobody asked my official title anyway. My four degrees hanging proudly on my office wall were not acknowledged nor even known and in fact, completely without value in the face of the present situation. I was a patient with a particular set of problems and the hospital staff was intent on helping me with those problems.
They were not interested in my past successes or failures, my family, my views on church music or anything religious. Nobody asked my political positions on the economy, social inequality, welfare, defense, intervention, the environment, or taxation. I never had an opportunity to extrapolate nor even express my thoughts on business, money, finance, technology, marketing, investing, index funds, or management. None of my musical or artistic thoughts found fruition during the week and aside from the time where I listened to music on my smartphone, I was devoid of musical sound (some of this due to being on pain killers I must admit).
I was there due to a problem and the goal was to fix the problem. Short and simple. Or was it? I became a human pincushion for every lab test imaginable and kept watching bags of saline drip into my system. Fortunately the nurses and doctors were kind, thorough, and demonstrated a great deal of concern for my improvement. Pain aside, it was a pleasant experience but not one I wish to repeat. I had the feeling that regardless of my position in life, the treatment would have been the same. Whether or not a person is famous, wealthy, attractive, poor, ugly, or anything at all, the hospital works diligently to help. Each patient is placed on a level that is primarily concerned with the care and improvement of the patient. This makes the institution called the hospital the great social leveler, and for that I am thankful.
The experience was humbling for me and taught me several important things: 1) each person's job is important from the hospitality services to the cooks to the nurses to the doctors and to the surgeons, 2) your education, social position, money, personality, and your values make no difference when it comes to the care you receive in a hospital, 3) your life is not really your own in that many people are affected by you and your health, and 4) between family, friends, and great medical practitioners, blessings abound in our lives and we should never take anything or anyone for granted.
They were not interested in my past successes or failures, my family, my views on church music or anything religious. Nobody asked my political positions on the economy, social inequality, welfare, defense, intervention, the environment, or taxation. I never had an opportunity to extrapolate nor even express my thoughts on business, money, finance, technology, marketing, investing, index funds, or management. None of my musical or artistic thoughts found fruition during the week and aside from the time where I listened to music on my smartphone, I was devoid of musical sound (some of this due to being on pain killers I must admit).
I was there due to a problem and the goal was to fix the problem. Short and simple. Or was it? I became a human pincushion for every lab test imaginable and kept watching bags of saline drip into my system. Fortunately the nurses and doctors were kind, thorough, and demonstrated a great deal of concern for my improvement. Pain aside, it was a pleasant experience but not one I wish to repeat. I had the feeling that regardless of my position in life, the treatment would have been the same. Whether or not a person is famous, wealthy, attractive, poor, ugly, or anything at all, the hospital works diligently to help. Each patient is placed on a level that is primarily concerned with the care and improvement of the patient. This makes the institution called the hospital the great social leveler, and for that I am thankful.
The experience was humbling for me and taught me several important things: 1) each person's job is important from the hospitality services to the cooks to the nurses to the doctors and to the surgeons, 2) your education, social position, money, personality, and your values make no difference when it comes to the care you receive in a hospital, 3) your life is not really your own in that many people are affected by you and your health, and 4) between family, friends, and great medical practitioners, blessings abound in our lives and we should never take anything or anyone for granted.
Sunday, January 05, 2014
It's all about the Harmony
People often ask me how I am able to enjoy so many different types of music yet retain my own standards for excellence. Running the risk of a total lack of discernment, I have developed a system of determining and classifying music according to its harmonic complexity and general balance. This is not to say that rhythmic interest, textual inflection, dynamics, poetry, orchestration, form, melody, development, texture, phrasing, or counterpoint are not powerfully significant but it is to say that I am drawn to a creative use of harmony over the elements of music. While my opinion is simply my own, I will admit to certain degree of responsibility due to my position as a Dean of Fine Arts. While restraint of my own views is probably wise, I often negate that wisdom in favor of expressing myself when it comes to music.
With harmony being at the forefront of most of my evaluation of music, it explains how I am able to embrace an eclectic music world and not necessarily reject any one genre or style of music. Granted, rather than evaluate the totality of music based on its harmonic interest, I prefer to listen and assess music based on its own parameters of expression. In other words, in spite of the harmonic simplicity of Irish Folk music (and most folk music), I still have a deep love and respect for the music as it stands. I choose not to compare folk music with symphonic music or Praise and Worship music with Bach organ works due to the difference of purpose, time periods, and basic philosophy.
With this in mind, it is easy for me to compare the music of Vivaldi with the music of Bach since they both lived in Europe during the Baroque period of music. It is also easy for me to compare the music of Bon Jovi with the music of White Snake since they both achieved much of their fame during the 1980s. By the same token, I enjoy comparing the music of Stevie Wonder with Barry Manilow or Elton John. The music of Mozart invites comparison with Haydn and the music of Mahler is fun to compare with the music of Richard Strauss.
While most would argue that music should be heard without comparison and that the early masters of music should be respected for their contributions and that their music should stay alive as the "canon" of music literature, I, instead, choose to retain a harmonic expectation that lifts some music above others regardless of the fame or historical significance of any composer. This practice, however, is weak and not always fair due to the fact that not every piece of music by any one composer is the same and no one piece is representative of any composer's output. I may disparage the music of Meyerbeer but that is based on the few works of his within my knowledge base. I may lift up the music of Brahms, but in truth, I am not familiar with his entire production and am basing my admiration on the concertos, symphonies, songs, and choral works. Such is true of all the composers and music that I blatantly lift to a higher level, they do not make the Tucker list out of extensive study but rather out of preference for the harmony of certain music. This approach is weak at best and serves little value either as an academic exercise or as acknowledgment of excellence.
Yet, in spite of the obvious challenges of presenting my favorite composers or even songs based on harmonic interest, it does seem to be true that music which withstands the test of time or that which continues to be vital today is that with more harmonic interest than music of great simplicity. Thus we see the music of Chopin being more meaningful than the music of Gottschalk. Or we find the music of Richard Rodgers to sublimate that of Gilbert and Sullivan. Preferring music with harmonic interest does not always relegate other music to "graveyard" status and a strong performance can often carry the day even with music of little harmonic complexity. Such is true of the music of Vivaldi, predictable and pompous at best, who is treated to stunning performances by Philip Jaroussky. In other words, Jaroussky improves Vivaldi, making his music acceptable and meaningful.
A performer's ability to turn a phrase or to communicate musical meaning is a gift that supercedes quality of craft, harmony, or any of the elements of music. But given that few performers have achieved the ability to make me forget about the lack of harmonic interest in music, I always return to the music itself for my judgment. This indeed makes me a snob of some sort and a musical elitist with an agenda. I am comfortable with this label to an extent since my elitism is not that of preferring one genre over another or insisting my views are superior to others but is rather based on a particular set of sound criteria--that being harmony.
One other argument against my harmonic interest criterion for judging music deals with the idea that most people are not aware of the difference between music that contains harmonic variety and music that relies on a few chords expressed entirely through diatonic means. Yet I will maintain that knowledge of harmony does not have to be direct but is intuitive and natural to the human response. We may not understand why the weather is uncomfortable but our bodies certainly know how to react to extreme temperatures. We may not know why something tastes satisfying, but our lack of knowledge does not interfere with our enjoyment of the food. We may not know why a particular song or even symphony seems dull, but that does not change our ho-hum response to boring music.
In contrast, when people respond to music positively, I posture that it is partly due to music that contains variety and interest. This factor alone makes the music of Stevie Wonder, Chicago, and Coldplay more interesting and therefore superior to the music of Miley Cyrus or the Rolling Stones for example. Not that I reject their music outright but if given a choice, I prefer music with greater harmonic variety. In my city of music I prefer late Mozart over Haydn, Beethoven over Weber or Mendelssohn, Wagner over Verdi, Brahms over Dvorak, Cole Porter over Irving Berlin, Lady Gaga over Beyonce, Ravel over Debussy, Steve Reich over Philip Glass, Alan Jackson over Garth Brooks, and my list continues.
Back to my electicism that is difficult for some to embrace, it all comes down to harmony for me. Please know that my views are my own and not intended as anything revolutionary nor even influential. This is intended as an explanation for my own variety of music I enjoy.
With harmony being at the forefront of most of my evaluation of music, it explains how I am able to embrace an eclectic music world and not necessarily reject any one genre or style of music. Granted, rather than evaluate the totality of music based on its harmonic interest, I prefer to listen and assess music based on its own parameters of expression. In other words, in spite of the harmonic simplicity of Irish Folk music (and most folk music), I still have a deep love and respect for the music as it stands. I choose not to compare folk music with symphonic music or Praise and Worship music with Bach organ works due to the difference of purpose, time periods, and basic philosophy.
With this in mind, it is easy for me to compare the music of Vivaldi with the music of Bach since they both lived in Europe during the Baroque period of music. It is also easy for me to compare the music of Bon Jovi with the music of White Snake since they both achieved much of their fame during the 1980s. By the same token, I enjoy comparing the music of Stevie Wonder with Barry Manilow or Elton John. The music of Mozart invites comparison with Haydn and the music of Mahler is fun to compare with the music of Richard Strauss.
While most would argue that music should be heard without comparison and that the early masters of music should be respected for their contributions and that their music should stay alive as the "canon" of music literature, I, instead, choose to retain a harmonic expectation that lifts some music above others regardless of the fame or historical significance of any composer. This practice, however, is weak and not always fair due to the fact that not every piece of music by any one composer is the same and no one piece is representative of any composer's output. I may disparage the music of Meyerbeer but that is based on the few works of his within my knowledge base. I may lift up the music of Brahms, but in truth, I am not familiar with his entire production and am basing my admiration on the concertos, symphonies, songs, and choral works. Such is true of all the composers and music that I blatantly lift to a higher level, they do not make the Tucker list out of extensive study but rather out of preference for the harmony of certain music. This approach is weak at best and serves little value either as an academic exercise or as acknowledgment of excellence.
Yet, in spite of the obvious challenges of presenting my favorite composers or even songs based on harmonic interest, it does seem to be true that music which withstands the test of time or that which continues to be vital today is that with more harmonic interest than music of great simplicity. Thus we see the music of Chopin being more meaningful than the music of Gottschalk. Or we find the music of Richard Rodgers to sublimate that of Gilbert and Sullivan. Preferring music with harmonic interest does not always relegate other music to "graveyard" status and a strong performance can often carry the day even with music of little harmonic complexity. Such is true of the music of Vivaldi, predictable and pompous at best, who is treated to stunning performances by Philip Jaroussky. In other words, Jaroussky improves Vivaldi, making his music acceptable and meaningful.
A performer's ability to turn a phrase or to communicate musical meaning is a gift that supercedes quality of craft, harmony, or any of the elements of music. But given that few performers have achieved the ability to make me forget about the lack of harmonic interest in music, I always return to the music itself for my judgment. This indeed makes me a snob of some sort and a musical elitist with an agenda. I am comfortable with this label to an extent since my elitism is not that of preferring one genre over another or insisting my views are superior to others but is rather based on a particular set of sound criteria--that being harmony.
One other argument against my harmonic interest criterion for judging music deals with the idea that most people are not aware of the difference between music that contains harmonic variety and music that relies on a few chords expressed entirely through diatonic means. Yet I will maintain that knowledge of harmony does not have to be direct but is intuitive and natural to the human response. We may not understand why the weather is uncomfortable but our bodies certainly know how to react to extreme temperatures. We may not know why something tastes satisfying, but our lack of knowledge does not interfere with our enjoyment of the food. We may not know why a particular song or even symphony seems dull, but that does not change our ho-hum response to boring music.
In contrast, when people respond to music positively, I posture that it is partly due to music that contains variety and interest. This factor alone makes the music of Stevie Wonder, Chicago, and Coldplay more interesting and therefore superior to the music of Miley Cyrus or the Rolling Stones for example. Not that I reject their music outright but if given a choice, I prefer music with greater harmonic variety. In my city of music I prefer late Mozart over Haydn, Beethoven over Weber or Mendelssohn, Wagner over Verdi, Brahms over Dvorak, Cole Porter over Irving Berlin, Lady Gaga over Beyonce, Ravel over Debussy, Steve Reich over Philip Glass, Alan Jackson over Garth Brooks, and my list continues.
Back to my electicism that is difficult for some to embrace, it all comes down to harmony for me. Please know that my views are my own and not intended as anything revolutionary nor even influential. This is intended as an explanation for my own variety of music I enjoy.
Saturday, January 04, 2014
The Lost Pen and Dieting
Humbled by the gift from my business professors all of whom I hold in high regard, I treasured my Cross pen with a mixture of concern and symbolism. The concern being that I rarely am able to keep up with any writing utensil more than one day. The symbolism being that the beautiful gold lined pen seemed to symbolize the hard work to complete my MBA as well as the inspiration to continue in my knowledge and development in business. For two weeks I kept my pen close at hand, using it frequently to sign forms, make lists, pay credit card bills, and write down ideas. One waitress commented to me, "That sure is a fancy pen!" With pride, I told her thank you that I really preferred it over any other pen.
But it disappeared one day. Gone. I retraced my steps, called around, looked in drawers, under chairs, throughout my truck, in every shirt and pants pocket, but all to no avail. My symbol of hard work and inspiration was no more and I dreaded the moment when I saw one of the business professors and could not present the pen. Thinking through the dilemma, I decided to purchase a new one, only to discover it was out of my current budget. After anguishing through the problem, I landed on a cheaper but similar Cross pen in the hopes it would look quite similar from a distance. Not entirely satisfied with the replacement, I continued to mourn the loss of the original pen while using the new one. A sad situation at best.
One week later wanting to read a book and take a nap, I laid down on the sofa in the living room. I read through several pages of the novel and calmly closed my eyes for a nap. Five minutes later my mobile phone buzzed. Forcing myself awake to look at the caller id, I decided to answer it in spite of my grogginess. The call mentioned we would be having a guest in the next few minutes which led me to clean up the kitchen in short order. As I cleaned, I gave thought to any more forms I needed to sign. Almost haphazardly reaching into my pocket, in dismay I realized my new Cross pen was gone. I had lost yet another new pen. Rather than surrendering to the emotion of loss, I quickly gave logical thought to where I had lost it and returned to the sofa.
Looking carefully between the cushions, I saw the pen and with a smile returned it to my pocket. Walking back to the kitchen to finish the job, I began to wonder about the sofa and the remote possibility of other lost items between the cushions. I walked back to the sofa and after finding $1.85 in change, I felt it...the original Cross pen! Great joy and excitement entered my being and now with two Cross pens (one better than the other), I am a happy person.
But my happiness was short-lived as I realized my own recent weight gain. Too cold to run in the mornings added to an excessive amount of sweets, and I am now heavier than I should be. Entering into a low-carb diet, I will attempt to lose 20 pounds over the next several weeks. It will not be fun and I certainly will miss the bread and the sweets, but the diet is necessary. With a new lease on life including an MBA, two Cross pens, and a diet, I start work on Monday ready to make a difference.
But it disappeared one day. Gone. I retraced my steps, called around, looked in drawers, under chairs, throughout my truck, in every shirt and pants pocket, but all to no avail. My symbol of hard work and inspiration was no more and I dreaded the moment when I saw one of the business professors and could not present the pen. Thinking through the dilemma, I decided to purchase a new one, only to discover it was out of my current budget. After anguishing through the problem, I landed on a cheaper but similar Cross pen in the hopes it would look quite similar from a distance. Not entirely satisfied with the replacement, I continued to mourn the loss of the original pen while using the new one. A sad situation at best.
One week later wanting to read a book and take a nap, I laid down on the sofa in the living room. I read through several pages of the novel and calmly closed my eyes for a nap. Five minutes later my mobile phone buzzed. Forcing myself awake to look at the caller id, I decided to answer it in spite of my grogginess. The call mentioned we would be having a guest in the next few minutes which led me to clean up the kitchen in short order. As I cleaned, I gave thought to any more forms I needed to sign. Almost haphazardly reaching into my pocket, in dismay I realized my new Cross pen was gone. I had lost yet another new pen. Rather than surrendering to the emotion of loss, I quickly gave logical thought to where I had lost it and returned to the sofa.
Looking carefully between the cushions, I saw the pen and with a smile returned it to my pocket. Walking back to the kitchen to finish the job, I began to wonder about the sofa and the remote possibility of other lost items between the cushions. I walked back to the sofa and after finding $1.85 in change, I felt it...the original Cross pen! Great joy and excitement entered my being and now with two Cross pens (one better than the other), I am a happy person.
But my happiness was short-lived as I realized my own recent weight gain. Too cold to run in the mornings added to an excessive amount of sweets, and I am now heavier than I should be. Entering into a low-carb diet, I will attempt to lose 20 pounds over the next several weeks. It will not be fun and I certainly will miss the bread and the sweets, but the diet is necessary. With a new lease on life including an MBA, two Cross pens, and a diet, I start work on Monday ready to make a difference.
Friday, January 03, 2014
Demonizing the Drums
Walking in the door of the church carrying parts of a drum set, I was told that the drums were a big problem and over 30 people had complained the last time they were used in the church service. Checking into this claim, I discerned that the number was closer to 3 people and the person with the claim was actually projecting his own biases onto other people and exaggerating the information by virtue of his personal preferences. This is not an unusual practice and I have often heard similar claims over the years such as "nobody wants to buy a Ford anymore" or "hamburgers are on their way out" or "thousands of people are pulling their money out of banks" or any number of exaggerated claims with little to no basis for truth. It all reminds me of Yogi Berra stating that "nobody goes there anymore, it is too crowded." I would not be surprised to hear someone say that nobody wants drums in the church, they are too popular!
To look at the other side, sometimes drums can be very loud and dominating (so can a pipe organ for that matter) and sometimes drums send a secular type of message that is rather antithetical to a worship environment. The pounding of a drum set is rather guttural and seems to be intent on damaging both hearing and mental sanity, particularly when amplified or played beyond the point of good taste or musical sensitivity. My experience attending and performing in rock concerts reveals a level of hard drumming that although rather appropriate for the venue, is beyond the scope of most church environments. If the sound is managed by a sound technician, audiences/congregations run the risk of poor management and hearing damage. If the sound is completely acoustic, the risk is in the hands of the person playing the instrument. Both options are potentially frightening (and exciting for some).
Having worshiped in several great cathedrals including York Minster, St. Paul's, Westminster Abbey, Salisbury, and Canterbury, I would nearly argue that a drum set in any of those settings would be a sacrilege on par with being a desecration of a sacred space. With the natural acoustics of these and other cathedrals demanding mostly choral music with little instrumental accompaniment or primarily the organ, drums rarely if ever would find a home in those beautiful cathedrals. Then the question arises, had drum sets existed, would church music have used them or do drum sets merely occupy a place in modern secular music?
While I am not entirely sure of the answer, I must refer to scripture for some truth. Here is a thorough examination of the issue including scriptural references: http://saintsinarmor.blogspot.com/2012/03/biblical-guide-to-drums-and-christian.html. Based on the author's reasoning and looking at the evidence, I can find no valid reason to exclude drums from worship. If this is the case, and I believe it to be correct, the only three reasons for avoiding drums are: 1) architectural design of the space, 2) genre of the music (although this is suspect), and 3) personal preference. Obviously when we discuss personal preference, we must take a collective view or find ourselves in a data quandary of trying to determine individual taste on a broad scale. Another reason for not using drums might be the culture and heritage of the church itself, but, again, this is suspect due to the lack of validity for tradition. If tradition itself is on trial, that will require another and worthy discussion on the role of history and heritage for determining the future. But for now the topic is not specific churches themselves but, rather, the church on the whole.
While the use of drums may indeed clash with the rich tradition of the culture of many churches, there is no "truth" presented as to why drums should not be included in the worship of God. Architectural space aside, the best reason to prevent drums in church is personal preference. And yet, this argument is beginning to sound empty in light of the prevalent use of drums in most recorded music of today. One may prefer to worship God without drums, and fortunately there are many opportunities for this approach, or one may prefer to use drums in the worship practices. Either choice is satisfactory depending on the preference of the person making the decision.
To put this another way, once again we see the market demand of style of music enter the scene and ultimately determine the "best practice" of what is right. We like to argue for truth in presentation, for quality of product, and for excellence in all things, but when it comes to art, that argument is difficult to substantiate by virtue of its subjectivity and personal preference. I may prefer hymns with organ and without drums or I may prefer to hear music that has withstood the test of time in history but to ignore the marching pound of progress is to live in the past. When it comes to using drums in church, it is possible that we have a situation that is similar to the Yogi Berra admonition. "Nobody wants drums in the worship service, they are too popular"--my own quote.
Using a drum set in worship is another example of a cultural clash that goes beyond that of young versus old or "classical" versus contemporary. The cultural clash is that of many parts of current society desiring a musical sound that is current and driven by a beat. Concerning to some, exciting to others, we can no longer ignore this as a trend or write it off as a fad. Fortunately our culture allows us to worship individually and corporately in ways that meet our needs and our preferences. For those preferring to avoid the "too popular" problem of drums in church, there remain many churches whose culture reflects its own rich heritage and demand a worship style without the "beat" enhancement. In contrast, and in respect of religious freedom, there are many churches using drums in the service. Rather than demonize the drums, maybe we should recognize the role of drums in the service and recognize the cultural change that allows many forms of worship.
To look at the other side, sometimes drums can be very loud and dominating (so can a pipe organ for that matter) and sometimes drums send a secular type of message that is rather antithetical to a worship environment. The pounding of a drum set is rather guttural and seems to be intent on damaging both hearing and mental sanity, particularly when amplified or played beyond the point of good taste or musical sensitivity. My experience attending and performing in rock concerts reveals a level of hard drumming that although rather appropriate for the venue, is beyond the scope of most church environments. If the sound is managed by a sound technician, audiences/congregations run the risk of poor management and hearing damage. If the sound is completely acoustic, the risk is in the hands of the person playing the instrument. Both options are potentially frightening (and exciting for some).
Having worshiped in several great cathedrals including York Minster, St. Paul's, Westminster Abbey, Salisbury, and Canterbury, I would nearly argue that a drum set in any of those settings would be a sacrilege on par with being a desecration of a sacred space. With the natural acoustics of these and other cathedrals demanding mostly choral music with little instrumental accompaniment or primarily the organ, drums rarely if ever would find a home in those beautiful cathedrals. Then the question arises, had drum sets existed, would church music have used them or do drum sets merely occupy a place in modern secular music?
While I am not entirely sure of the answer, I must refer to scripture for some truth. Here is a thorough examination of the issue including scriptural references: http://saintsinarmor.blogspot.com/2012/03/biblical-guide-to-drums-and-christian.html. Based on the author's reasoning and looking at the evidence, I can find no valid reason to exclude drums from worship. If this is the case, and I believe it to be correct, the only three reasons for avoiding drums are: 1) architectural design of the space, 2) genre of the music (although this is suspect), and 3) personal preference. Obviously when we discuss personal preference, we must take a collective view or find ourselves in a data quandary of trying to determine individual taste on a broad scale. Another reason for not using drums might be the culture and heritage of the church itself, but, again, this is suspect due to the lack of validity for tradition. If tradition itself is on trial, that will require another and worthy discussion on the role of history and heritage for determining the future. But for now the topic is not specific churches themselves but, rather, the church on the whole.
While the use of drums may indeed clash with the rich tradition of the culture of many churches, there is no "truth" presented as to why drums should not be included in the worship of God. Architectural space aside, the best reason to prevent drums in church is personal preference. And yet, this argument is beginning to sound empty in light of the prevalent use of drums in most recorded music of today. One may prefer to worship God without drums, and fortunately there are many opportunities for this approach, or one may prefer to use drums in the worship practices. Either choice is satisfactory depending on the preference of the person making the decision.
To put this another way, once again we see the market demand of style of music enter the scene and ultimately determine the "best practice" of what is right. We like to argue for truth in presentation, for quality of product, and for excellence in all things, but when it comes to art, that argument is difficult to substantiate by virtue of its subjectivity and personal preference. I may prefer hymns with organ and without drums or I may prefer to hear music that has withstood the test of time in history but to ignore the marching pound of progress is to live in the past. When it comes to using drums in church, it is possible that we have a situation that is similar to the Yogi Berra admonition. "Nobody wants drums in the worship service, they are too popular"--my own quote.
Using a drum set in worship is another example of a cultural clash that goes beyond that of young versus old or "classical" versus contemporary. The cultural clash is that of many parts of current society desiring a musical sound that is current and driven by a beat. Concerning to some, exciting to others, we can no longer ignore this as a trend or write it off as a fad. Fortunately our culture allows us to worship individually and corporately in ways that meet our needs and our preferences. For those preferring to avoid the "too popular" problem of drums in church, there remain many churches whose culture reflects its own rich heritage and demand a worship style without the "beat" enhancement. In contrast, and in respect of religious freedom, there are many churches using drums in the service. Rather than demonize the drums, maybe we should recognize the role of drums in the service and recognize the cultural change that allows many forms of worship.
Wednesday, January 01, 2014
Is Classical Music a Museum?
It was with interest I read an article about how museums are struggling with using technology to enhance and supplement the experience for the viewers. The article postures that museums do recognize the need to invoke a judicious use of technology in their offerings, but the author admonishes museums to "hold back on ‘audience engagement’ shenanigans with mobile technologies and social media, and accept that museums are not to everyone’s taste." http://www.spiked-online.com/newsite/article/technology_in_museums_less_is_more/14433#.UsMs2LRbRCA.
In many ways the article serves as an example of the dilemma facing musicians and Schools of Music today. We are just not sure what to do, how to give respect for the past, how to prepare students for the future, and how to design concerts and programs that reach people without sacrificing quality and integrity. We love music of the great masters, that which is highly regarded as the canon of music literature, and we believe in the value of that music and are convinced in its vitality and its quality, not just as something historical, but also as being meaningful in today's world. We are also further convinced that knowledge in how that music was created is essential to all music that came afterward. To know Bach is to know truth which is also to understand the future. After all, doesn't the past shape the future? Such is true in music. Trained musicians cannot eradicate, nor should they, the great music from the past, for to do so is to extract a vital and necessary part of what it means to be a musician.
[We have postulated this position for years and continue to do so, but the argument for continuing to teach the music of the masters (defined in terms of a 200 year period of white male European composers from the past), is beginning to crumble with the rise in knowledge of the world and the growth of technology. Somehow our argument is starting to sound stale and empty in light of the all the music that has been produced in history and in regard to music that is vital today. This is a major concern and another example of the clash that exists in culture.]
Yet, we are aware that not to react, at least to an extent, to current trends and not to benefit from modern technology is to relegate music entirely to the past, thus making it a museum piece that vacillates between being antique to being useless. The article about museums addresses how excessive technology almost detracts from the ability to "work things out" for yourself and to make your own interpretations. While the article does not address imagination, it does seem intuitively true that the more gadgets that invade our museums, the more our imaginations take a back seat to the process of learning. Perhaps it is true that when Dinosaurs become "alive" using technology, it tends to "obviate the challenge..." (http://www.spiked-online.com/newsite/article/technology_in_museums_less_is_more/14433#.UsMs2LRbRCA) as well as the purposes behind a museum...to discover, to learn, to respect, and to apply the knowledge in some sort of way.
While I understand the author's point and could argue the same in all the arts, I do not think it is productive nor relevant to voice what smacks of Neo-Luddism and antiquated thinking. If museums can provide "real" experiences through technology or can enhance and supplement the knowledge using technology, then I am supportive, in spite of the expressed concerns. We have the technology, my vote is to use it and to benefit from its many advantages.
The music of Mozart, Beethoven, Strauss, and Chopin, to name a few, is full of beauty, joy, expression, and displays unparalleled genius, and it is my hope that their music is performed and studied forever. Yet, those works by the great masters are in fact museum pieces that might benefit from some kind of technology, and, indeed, they have, albeit rather typically, through the use of recordings, midi, and digital transmission. Music, like technology, marches forward and the public market demands it stay current and relevant. But the tension between the music of the past through performance practices of old, and that of using modern technology to enhance that experience is likened to the problems of museums and their fears of invoking excessive technology. We can fight against the tide of progress or we can embrace it while retaining our commitment to quality and to education.
Regardless of the concern and the philosophical, perhaps educational, problems of the "live" dinosaurs at the London Natural History Museum, the display is popular and very fun. Without that element, they are just memories and likenesses of ancient animals that once walked this earth. When we breathe life into them through digital technology, they take on their own relevancy and historical significance. Maybe Schools of Music can find ways to "breathe life" into music of the past and use technology in ways to enhance and supplement the experience. Yes, we may lose some of the beauty of the past, but the gain is likely to be greater than the loss. It is at least worth the effort and may result in robust programs that make a difference for the future of music.
In many ways the article serves as an example of the dilemma facing musicians and Schools of Music today. We are just not sure what to do, how to give respect for the past, how to prepare students for the future, and how to design concerts and programs that reach people without sacrificing quality and integrity. We love music of the great masters, that which is highly regarded as the canon of music literature, and we believe in the value of that music and are convinced in its vitality and its quality, not just as something historical, but also as being meaningful in today's world. We are also further convinced that knowledge in how that music was created is essential to all music that came afterward. To know Bach is to know truth which is also to understand the future. After all, doesn't the past shape the future? Such is true in music. Trained musicians cannot eradicate, nor should they, the great music from the past, for to do so is to extract a vital and necessary part of what it means to be a musician.
[We have postulated this position for years and continue to do so, but the argument for continuing to teach the music of the masters (defined in terms of a 200 year period of white male European composers from the past), is beginning to crumble with the rise in knowledge of the world and the growth of technology. Somehow our argument is starting to sound stale and empty in light of the all the music that has been produced in history and in regard to music that is vital today. This is a major concern and another example of the clash that exists in culture.]
Yet, we are aware that not to react, at least to an extent, to current trends and not to benefit from modern technology is to relegate music entirely to the past, thus making it a museum piece that vacillates between being antique to being useless. The article about museums addresses how excessive technology almost detracts from the ability to "work things out" for yourself and to make your own interpretations. While the article does not address imagination, it does seem intuitively true that the more gadgets that invade our museums, the more our imaginations take a back seat to the process of learning. Perhaps it is true that when Dinosaurs become "alive" using technology, it tends to "obviate the challenge..." (http://www.spiked-online.com/newsite/article/technology_in_museums_less_is_more/14433#.UsMs2LRbRCA) as well as the purposes behind a museum...to discover, to learn, to respect, and to apply the knowledge in some sort of way.
While I understand the author's point and could argue the same in all the arts, I do not think it is productive nor relevant to voice what smacks of Neo-Luddism and antiquated thinking. If museums can provide "real" experiences through technology or can enhance and supplement the knowledge using technology, then I am supportive, in spite of the expressed concerns. We have the technology, my vote is to use it and to benefit from its many advantages.
The music of Mozart, Beethoven, Strauss, and Chopin, to name a few, is full of beauty, joy, expression, and displays unparalleled genius, and it is my hope that their music is performed and studied forever. Yet, those works by the great masters are in fact museum pieces that might benefit from some kind of technology, and, indeed, they have, albeit rather typically, through the use of recordings, midi, and digital transmission. Music, like technology, marches forward and the public market demands it stay current and relevant. But the tension between the music of the past through performance practices of old, and that of using modern technology to enhance that experience is likened to the problems of museums and their fears of invoking excessive technology. We can fight against the tide of progress or we can embrace it while retaining our commitment to quality and to education.
Regardless of the concern and the philosophical, perhaps educational, problems of the "live" dinosaurs at the London Natural History Museum, the display is popular and very fun. Without that element, they are just memories and likenesses of ancient animals that once walked this earth. When we breathe life into them through digital technology, they take on their own relevancy and historical significance. Maybe Schools of Music can find ways to "breathe life" into music of the past and use technology in ways to enhance and supplement the experience. Yes, we may lose some of the beauty of the past, but the gain is likely to be greater than the loss. It is at least worth the effort and may result in robust programs that make a difference for the future of music.
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