Sunday morning in church the pastor spoke on sin and how the devil finds ways to move into our lives and affect our moral behavior. He spoke eloquently and dramatically in a sermon filled with compelling wisdom and accurate scriptural references. The sermon was a reminder of the activity of Satan in the world and how all of us are subject to the whims and wiles of the devil, not unlike the marvelous book by C.S. Lewis called The Screwtape Letters where Screwtape describes the ways he tricks humans into sinful actions. The sermon was well-delivered and I actually felt fear that Satan would show up ready to get me for my sins. As a relatively successful administrator in a faith-based institution, I do not take sin nor poor behavior lightly and I am sincerely appreciative of the reminder that Satan is alive and well in the world. It does not take long to recognize the problems of evil in the world and all one needs to do is watch the news or read a newspaper, and whether a person interprets the evil as the hand of Satan or the failings of man, there remains a moral conduct problem in our culture.
But looking at this sermon sociologically, and this certainly may not be the best way to look at this issue, I have to wonder if fear is an effective but not preferred motivation for good behavior. Before proceeding, there is no doubt that negative motivation is an effective deterrent for poor conduct and all of us tend to follow the laws partly out of preference to avoid punishment for breaking them. We pay taxes for police protection and we expect them to uphold the laws, yet we tend to push to the edge of traffic laws, allowing the thought to enter our minds, "I hope I don't get caught!" Although heavily debated, it seems as though our inability to govern ourselves as a society requires some sort of judicial system and punishment to protect citizens from evil. We may occasionally resist the law, but in the end we respect it to a degree and recognize that without the law we would live in a perpetual state of anarchy (yes I realize my libertarian friends will quickly argue that we would be better off!).
For centuries philosophers have written extensively about moral behavior and a study of historical literature from Dante, Bunyan, Shakespeare, Dickens, and contemporaries including Camus, Dreiser, Roth, and Doctorow have provided further insights into human behavior. Yet no solution to the problems accompanying human destructiveness is clear. If fear is the primary motivation for moral conduct, then the result will be continual resentment, paranoia, and suspicion. Do we behave so as to avoid the alternative which is some kind of pain? Or is it possible to promote an environment whereby excellent moral behavior is the choice regardless of the consequences of poor behavior?
Assuming we live in a rational world where people make decisions that are both self-serving and collectively beneficial, it stands to reason that quality moral behavior is best if chosen without coercion and particularly without fear. We, as a society, will choose to avoid negative behavior and, instead, will be motivated by the positive forces that improve us both individually and corporately. Sin and Satan may be part of our lives but only love, tolerance, and forgiveness can improve us. There is little to gain from postulating a practice based on fear but everything to gain from practicing a life full of compassion, right choices, and respect for each other. Laws are needed and commitment to protection of the weak is a sign of refinement, but ultimately good behavior belongs to the individual.
Monday, March 17, 2014
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Academic Financing and the Problem in the Arts, Part 1
As we wade into the financial challenges of the arts in academia, it would be helpful to have a basic understanding of how institutional finance operates. The basics of running a business are similar to running an academic institution. It is all about revenues and expenses and one needs to exceed the other in order to stay solvent. Customers, and at some point a further discussion is needed on who are the customers, must have a demand for the product and be willing to pay for it. Demand is created when the product is beneficial to the customer and the customer believes the value of the product is greater than the expense. Such is true of basic economic practice.
When we begin to look at institutional finance, we must consider additional factors such as endowment yields, inventory, capital, depreciation, insurance, grants, funding sources, budgets, salaries, property needs, and taxes when applicable. Funding sources can include but are not limited to student tuition, fees, residence halls, gifts, and funds that flow through institutions in various forms such as financial aid and governmental grants. The sheer complexity of accounts ultimately demonstrates a complex web of expenses that are managed through a typical institutional governance structure that involves a board of trustees, a president, vice-presidents, deans, chairs, and other responsible parties within the organization.
Academic institutions tend to operate broadly, being satisfied when the end of the year ends with more money left than spent. Because most academic institutions are considered "non-profit," it is essential to keep money flowing by demonstrating a constant need for growth and improvement. Accreditation also plays an essential role in the process and ensures students are receiving quality instruction and an overall positive experience that involves advising, protection, health, resources, and a myriad of student requirements. But whether a school is large, small, for profit, non-profit, private, or state, in the end the school must have students to keep its doors open. Because personnel costs are generally 50% or more of the expenses of an institution, academia depends on a series of quality teachers within a variety of disciplines that encompass the institution. While it is hoped that most disciplines support themselves through student numbers, there are some areas in academia where the expenses are greater than the revenues whether or not enrollment numbers are high. Such is true in the fine arts.
It is in discipline specific areas where academia and traditional business part ways. A low producing area or product would either receive more attention to bring it to the level of success or be evaluated for possible removal from the process. If the expenses for the area are greater than the revenues it contributes to the business, then changes would be made.The product itself would be studied for ways to generate greater revenues and/or reduce expenses. In the business realm, earnings and financial ratios are carefully studied with comprehensive scrutiny over every area of the business. In academia, however, we tend to look at the whole, knowing that the sum of the parts contributes to the entire institution, ignoring, at least to some extent, the differences in expenses of the parts.
There are many disciplines in academia that do not require a substantial outlay of funds to operate at a high level. Given that individual personnel costs, within certain discipline parameters, do not change from discipline to discipline, many areas do not require extensive inventory, budgets, capital improvements, nor advanced facilities to operate. Taking advanced technological needs out of the picture, there are disciplines that need classrooms with desks, basic projection, a computer, wi-fi connection, a temperature controlled environment, and a teacher for each class. Variables in size, scope, and mission aside, there are many inexpensive academic disciplines operating within most institutions of higher learning. Thankfully, these are the areas that allow for the more expensive disciplines to remain a part of the whole. Which brings us onto the fragile ice called the arts. This is not to say the arts are the only expensive discipline on campus, but they are certainly near or at the top of the pile, or to say it another way, they are skating on thin ice with the potential for serious cracks.
While at some level we know that the arts contribute positively to the cultural experience of society and the immediate community, and that the arts are an essential part of the academic experience, we are also aware of the expenses that an arts education requires. There are five additional requirements for running an arts program that most other disciplines do not have: 1) Large inventory, 2) Scholarships, 3) Unique facility requirements, 4) Individualized instruction, and 5) Extensive contact hours. But before diving too far into these challenges, let us take an analytical look at some projections for the future as though looking at a stock for growth patterns.
According to Jim Cramer, there are three requirements for understanding whether an individual stock will grow: world economy, sector growth, and company health (Get Rich Carefully, Blue Rider Press, 2013). Using these ideas in arts analysis, we find a rapidly changing world, decline in classical art interest, and a generally healthy but self-serving company. When we factor in the five expensive requirements for running an arts program in higher education, we are skirting the edge of an untenable situation regardless of the size, scope, or mission of the institution. Continuing down the slope without dramatic changes in approach could result in closed programs, lost personnel, significant tension in administration, and, in some cases, failed institutions. The time to make changes is upon us. Those who can change may survive, but those who cannot will be added to the long list of archaic disciplines once taught in colleges and universities. We are in a cultural crises in the arts that will be driven by economic data more than emotion. Although not a hopeless situation, it is critical that we in the arts come to some conclusions that will save a valued discipline which is an essential part of both higher education and ultimately contributes to societal refinement.
When we begin to look at institutional finance, we must consider additional factors such as endowment yields, inventory, capital, depreciation, insurance, grants, funding sources, budgets, salaries, property needs, and taxes when applicable. Funding sources can include but are not limited to student tuition, fees, residence halls, gifts, and funds that flow through institutions in various forms such as financial aid and governmental grants. The sheer complexity of accounts ultimately demonstrates a complex web of expenses that are managed through a typical institutional governance structure that involves a board of trustees, a president, vice-presidents, deans, chairs, and other responsible parties within the organization.
Academic institutions tend to operate broadly, being satisfied when the end of the year ends with more money left than spent. Because most academic institutions are considered "non-profit," it is essential to keep money flowing by demonstrating a constant need for growth and improvement. Accreditation also plays an essential role in the process and ensures students are receiving quality instruction and an overall positive experience that involves advising, protection, health, resources, and a myriad of student requirements. But whether a school is large, small, for profit, non-profit, private, or state, in the end the school must have students to keep its doors open. Because personnel costs are generally 50% or more of the expenses of an institution, academia depends on a series of quality teachers within a variety of disciplines that encompass the institution. While it is hoped that most disciplines support themselves through student numbers, there are some areas in academia where the expenses are greater than the revenues whether or not enrollment numbers are high. Such is true in the fine arts.
It is in discipline specific areas where academia and traditional business part ways. A low producing area or product would either receive more attention to bring it to the level of success or be evaluated for possible removal from the process. If the expenses for the area are greater than the revenues it contributes to the business, then changes would be made.The product itself would be studied for ways to generate greater revenues and/or reduce expenses. In the business realm, earnings and financial ratios are carefully studied with comprehensive scrutiny over every area of the business. In academia, however, we tend to look at the whole, knowing that the sum of the parts contributes to the entire institution, ignoring, at least to some extent, the differences in expenses of the parts.
There are many disciplines in academia that do not require a substantial outlay of funds to operate at a high level. Given that individual personnel costs, within certain discipline parameters, do not change from discipline to discipline, many areas do not require extensive inventory, budgets, capital improvements, nor advanced facilities to operate. Taking advanced technological needs out of the picture, there are disciplines that need classrooms with desks, basic projection, a computer, wi-fi connection, a temperature controlled environment, and a teacher for each class. Variables in size, scope, and mission aside, there are many inexpensive academic disciplines operating within most institutions of higher learning. Thankfully, these are the areas that allow for the more expensive disciplines to remain a part of the whole. Which brings us onto the fragile ice called the arts. This is not to say the arts are the only expensive discipline on campus, but they are certainly near or at the top of the pile, or to say it another way, they are skating on thin ice with the potential for serious cracks.
While at some level we know that the arts contribute positively to the cultural experience of society and the immediate community, and that the arts are an essential part of the academic experience, we are also aware of the expenses that an arts education requires. There are five additional requirements for running an arts program that most other disciplines do not have: 1) Large inventory, 2) Scholarships, 3) Unique facility requirements, 4) Individualized instruction, and 5) Extensive contact hours. But before diving too far into these challenges, let us take an analytical look at some projections for the future as though looking at a stock for growth patterns.
According to Jim Cramer, there are three requirements for understanding whether an individual stock will grow: world economy, sector growth, and company health (Get Rich Carefully, Blue Rider Press, 2013). Using these ideas in arts analysis, we find a rapidly changing world, decline in classical art interest, and a generally healthy but self-serving company. When we factor in the five expensive requirements for running an arts program in higher education, we are skirting the edge of an untenable situation regardless of the size, scope, or mission of the institution. Continuing down the slope without dramatic changes in approach could result in closed programs, lost personnel, significant tension in administration, and, in some cases, failed institutions. The time to make changes is upon us. Those who can change may survive, but those who cannot will be added to the long list of archaic disciplines once taught in colleges and universities. We are in a cultural crises in the arts that will be driven by economic data more than emotion. Although not a hopeless situation, it is critical that we in the arts come to some conclusions that will save a valued discipline which is an essential part of both higher education and ultimately contributes to societal refinement.
Friday, March 14, 2014
The Ensemble Experience
Among the great joys of being a musician is the opportunity to participate and perform with a musical ensemble. It is the age-old concept of individuals working collectively to solve a problem by applying skill, fastidiousness, and emotion to sound. Musical ensembles are in effect manifestations of society and culture attempting to uphold independence while operating congruently, ideas that can be found in virtually every part of our culture. When we dine together at home or a restaurant we are acting on the principle of social polyphony whereby each person participates in the eating to meet his own needs while allowing and encouraging the group experience to include not just the actual eating but talking, sharing, passing food, and working to conform to the group needs while retaining the independence of the act.
Having dined with large groups in banquet settings, I am always intrigued by the general timing of the experience. Most finish the salad within the same few minutes, the main course, the dessert, and most require refills of drinks at the same rate. This is yet another example of the congruence that occurs when in social settings. The same is true when we drive down the road, put on our clothes, manage our lives, and the list of independent yet congruent activities is extensive. Granted that many actions remain purely individual, there is no question that we enjoy and respond to the idea of collective goals. In a sense, we are dependent on those opportunities to join with other people either in social engagement or in accomplishment of some worthy task.
Such is true in the musical ensemble. The euphoria that occurs from playing in an outstanding ensemble and performing for an appreciative and eager audience is difficult to put into words. It is simply an incredible experience and one that I wish all people could have at some point in their lives. Certainly a powerful experience, I can point to hundreds of great experiences as a performer, conductor, and composer, in bands, choirs, orchestras, and many combinations of smaller organizations. There is something magical and boldly unified that occurs when each individual uses skill and excellence to bring out the finest in music. Many amazing sounds work together to provide music to audiences and give them a similar sense of the euphoria that accompanies music ensembles in their product.
When choirs are singing, strings are playing, bands are marching, it is as though the challenges of the world take a back seat to the experience on the stage or field. The music ensemble serves as a shining example of how people can work together for a common purpose and instead of promoting non-conformity or individuality, ensembles are promoting unity, harmony, and congruence. Add in the power of collective dissonance that occurs within the sound of the music, and we have an aural representation of the tension and repose that exists in culture today.
In spite of the individual and collective euphoria and the positive responses from audiences everywhere, there is an economic threat to the music ensemble. At the professional level, it is expensive. Plain and simple. If an orchestra could be paid as one unit, receiving a large sum based on a substantial percentage of ticket sales, and subsequently distributing the sum among the players, all would be well. This would likely result in performers determining what to perform and how to generate interest in their skills. Some concerts would pay very little and cause musicians to reevaluate the product. Other events would be financially rewarding, resulting in happy performers who directly influenced the final result. While the players would not know in advance how much they would make, they would also have great interest in the audience and its response to the concert. No longer would we see disinterested professional performers collecting a paycheck regardless of the ticket sales.
Musicians enjoy performing, people enjoy large ensembles, and the result ought to be a successful experience for both performers and audience members. But it may be time for professional musicians to accept that the market needs to determine the economic reality of the worth of the music ensemble. This will require a paradigm shift of thinking, of management, and of considering how one's talent and skill can be converted to economic success. Recognizing there are many definitions of success and great monetary gain is rarely achieved by artists, at the same time, it is difficult to reconcile the "starving" musician with the general enjoyment of ensemble performing. Regardless of the talent level, no musician is entitled to a career based on his/her own sense of worth. Careers are made when there is a demand for the skill. Such is true of the musician.
The music ensemble is a substantive experience with a long and rich heritage and it is here to stay in our culture. Whether that is true at the professional level, however, is questionable and only time and the market will prove its power and worth. Meanwhile, the amateur and school ensemble continues to thrive at a high level and provides tremendous feelings of joy for those in the ensemble as well as the audience. As a model expression of independence and collective congruence, few other concepts compete with the music ensemble.
Having dined with large groups in banquet settings, I am always intrigued by the general timing of the experience. Most finish the salad within the same few minutes, the main course, the dessert, and most require refills of drinks at the same rate. This is yet another example of the congruence that occurs when in social settings. The same is true when we drive down the road, put on our clothes, manage our lives, and the list of independent yet congruent activities is extensive. Granted that many actions remain purely individual, there is no question that we enjoy and respond to the idea of collective goals. In a sense, we are dependent on those opportunities to join with other people either in social engagement or in accomplishment of some worthy task.
Such is true in the musical ensemble. The euphoria that occurs from playing in an outstanding ensemble and performing for an appreciative and eager audience is difficult to put into words. It is simply an incredible experience and one that I wish all people could have at some point in their lives. Certainly a powerful experience, I can point to hundreds of great experiences as a performer, conductor, and composer, in bands, choirs, orchestras, and many combinations of smaller organizations. There is something magical and boldly unified that occurs when each individual uses skill and excellence to bring out the finest in music. Many amazing sounds work together to provide music to audiences and give them a similar sense of the euphoria that accompanies music ensembles in their product.
When choirs are singing, strings are playing, bands are marching, it is as though the challenges of the world take a back seat to the experience on the stage or field. The music ensemble serves as a shining example of how people can work together for a common purpose and instead of promoting non-conformity or individuality, ensembles are promoting unity, harmony, and congruence. Add in the power of collective dissonance that occurs within the sound of the music, and we have an aural representation of the tension and repose that exists in culture today.
In spite of the individual and collective euphoria and the positive responses from audiences everywhere, there is an economic threat to the music ensemble. At the professional level, it is expensive. Plain and simple. If an orchestra could be paid as one unit, receiving a large sum based on a substantial percentage of ticket sales, and subsequently distributing the sum among the players, all would be well. This would likely result in performers determining what to perform and how to generate interest in their skills. Some concerts would pay very little and cause musicians to reevaluate the product. Other events would be financially rewarding, resulting in happy performers who directly influenced the final result. While the players would not know in advance how much they would make, they would also have great interest in the audience and its response to the concert. No longer would we see disinterested professional performers collecting a paycheck regardless of the ticket sales.
Musicians enjoy performing, people enjoy large ensembles, and the result ought to be a successful experience for both performers and audience members. But it may be time for professional musicians to accept that the market needs to determine the economic reality of the worth of the music ensemble. This will require a paradigm shift of thinking, of management, and of considering how one's talent and skill can be converted to economic success. Recognizing there are many definitions of success and great monetary gain is rarely achieved by artists, at the same time, it is difficult to reconcile the "starving" musician with the general enjoyment of ensemble performing. Regardless of the talent level, no musician is entitled to a career based on his/her own sense of worth. Careers are made when there is a demand for the skill. Such is true of the musician.
The music ensemble is a substantive experience with a long and rich heritage and it is here to stay in our culture. Whether that is true at the professional level, however, is questionable and only time and the market will prove its power and worth. Meanwhile, the amateur and school ensemble continues to thrive at a high level and provides tremendous feelings of joy for those in the ensemble as well as the audience. As a model expression of independence and collective congruence, few other concepts compete with the music ensemble.
Friday, March 07, 2014
The Danger of Being Our Own Audience
After reading an article about the problems of academic writing, I began to ponder several of the comments the author made and how this is related to academic music training. Near the end of the article, he mentions that "professors are their own audience" (http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2014/02/why-is-academic-writing-so-academic.html). He also postures that academia is becoming marginalized due to insularity and a shrinking academic target primarily serving itself. While he does not address technological advances as contributing to the issue, I would further contend that academia is being forced to change due to the inherent suspicions of the validity of the intellectual life. While it pains me to say, I fear our culture is losing faith in the wise, highly trained professor of the past.
If the information found on the Internet is superior in most respects to the information gained from sitting in a classroom listening to one person offering astute but also narrow and limited truth, why do we still need the system of academic training? The answer lies, of course, in the personal connection of one human being to another. But as culture marches forward, that desire for connection is morphing from reverence for the brilliance of one person to more of curiosity about people in general. Because vast information is found with the fingertips in a matter of seconds, the level of respect and awe for individuals is being subjugated by admiration and respect for machines.
This is not, as the Luddites would insist, a sign of the slow dehumanization of culture but is rather a shifting away from dependence on individual knowledge. Ironically, I posture that the Internet has actually made all of us more human and aware of each other's frailties and insecurities, as well as strengths. Rather than holding up a scholar as unparalleled in his field, we acknowledge that his or her brilliance is likely matched with her own set of frailties or weaknesses. Such is the case of everyone. Students may sit at the feet of the intellectual imparting information but deep down they realize that more information is available in the tablet sitting on their laps and that the person in front is probably struggling with complicated personal issues that inflict all people in some form or another.
Not that this is a problem at all. Some would see this change as the downfall of education, but I see it as an improvement of the process. Vast and instant information from the machine, human insights from an individual, awareness of weaknesses, and acknowledgement of success and skill. All these and more form the educational process and the opportunities abound unbridled for personal growth using a combination of technology and human interaction.
Returning to the problem in the arts, if we are unable to make this shift in education, the arts will continue to see a remarkable decline in its own value, arrogantly extolling its own worth by supporting itself and becoming its own audience--a diminishing proposition at best. Are we pretending that our art is valuable by simply attending our own programs and making the bold statement that what we do is the "right" kind or "best" kind of music? Is this similar to the problems of academic writing that has little relevance and reaches a very small audience? Is an entirely "classical" music curriculum being inadvertently defenestrated only to reside in academic communities that have lifted themselves onto their self-made pulpits and are trying to preach to the very few who will listen?
It is time for academic music training to embrace an eclectic curriculum that is bathed in both the classics and the popular world. Preparing future students to perform music that has a limited audience is likened to teaching a chef to prepare a dish that only a few other chefs will eat. While it is the right of a chef to prepare what he or she so chooses to prepare, it is also the right of those who indulge to accept or reject it. The study of culinary arts seeks not to insist on food only other chefs prefer but, instead, to provide skills and basic truths that can be applied and extended through innovation and creativity with the aim of pleasing the tastes of the people.
Have we in academia forgotten our audience? Granted that an audience is comprised of a vast and complex mosaic of preferences and desires and virtually any attempt to meet all those needs is likely going to fall into a bottomless pit of mediocrity and failure. But in our efforts to present the finest music in the best way, have we become delusion about our influence and our worth in the world? As we emphasize excellence and quality literature in our curriculum, the world seems to be marching to a different cadence. The more we demand the public to march to our tune, the less the public seems to respond. Our reaction to this problem is not to find people where they are or to seek out their preferences for sound, but, rather to become our own applause for what we offer. We clap loud and we clap long for ourselves while the world walks out the door to find something different.
Much of life as a scholar in academia is spent teaching, researching, and serving institutions and communities, knowing there is little notoriety or public acknowledgment of the practice. While no academic intends to divorce his or her discipline from economic reality nor from public opinion, to ignore such realities is to fall into banality and institutional selfishness. Even worse is to become our own fan club propagating generations into the same banal trappings. How do we correct such action? It will require a substantive evaluation of music curriculum and an acceptance of a changing world. Mostly it will require letting go, at least to some extent, of the art music we hold so dear and allowing the market to guide the direction of musical needs for the future. Can this be done with integrity, with rigor, with respect for the heritage of music? Time to roll up our sleeves and give it a try.
If the information found on the Internet is superior in most respects to the information gained from sitting in a classroom listening to one person offering astute but also narrow and limited truth, why do we still need the system of academic training? The answer lies, of course, in the personal connection of one human being to another. But as culture marches forward, that desire for connection is morphing from reverence for the brilliance of one person to more of curiosity about people in general. Because vast information is found with the fingertips in a matter of seconds, the level of respect and awe for individuals is being subjugated by admiration and respect for machines.
This is not, as the Luddites would insist, a sign of the slow dehumanization of culture but is rather a shifting away from dependence on individual knowledge. Ironically, I posture that the Internet has actually made all of us more human and aware of each other's frailties and insecurities, as well as strengths. Rather than holding up a scholar as unparalleled in his field, we acknowledge that his or her brilliance is likely matched with her own set of frailties or weaknesses. Such is the case of everyone. Students may sit at the feet of the intellectual imparting information but deep down they realize that more information is available in the tablet sitting on their laps and that the person in front is probably struggling with complicated personal issues that inflict all people in some form or another.
Not that this is a problem at all. Some would see this change as the downfall of education, but I see it as an improvement of the process. Vast and instant information from the machine, human insights from an individual, awareness of weaknesses, and acknowledgement of success and skill. All these and more form the educational process and the opportunities abound unbridled for personal growth using a combination of technology and human interaction.
Returning to the problem in the arts, if we are unable to make this shift in education, the arts will continue to see a remarkable decline in its own value, arrogantly extolling its own worth by supporting itself and becoming its own audience--a diminishing proposition at best. Are we pretending that our art is valuable by simply attending our own programs and making the bold statement that what we do is the "right" kind or "best" kind of music? Is this similar to the problems of academic writing that has little relevance and reaches a very small audience? Is an entirely "classical" music curriculum being inadvertently defenestrated only to reside in academic communities that have lifted themselves onto their self-made pulpits and are trying to preach to the very few who will listen?
It is time for academic music training to embrace an eclectic curriculum that is bathed in both the classics and the popular world. Preparing future students to perform music that has a limited audience is likened to teaching a chef to prepare a dish that only a few other chefs will eat. While it is the right of a chef to prepare what he or she so chooses to prepare, it is also the right of those who indulge to accept or reject it. The study of culinary arts seeks not to insist on food only other chefs prefer but, instead, to provide skills and basic truths that can be applied and extended through innovation and creativity with the aim of pleasing the tastes of the people.
Have we in academia forgotten our audience? Granted that an audience is comprised of a vast and complex mosaic of preferences and desires and virtually any attempt to meet all those needs is likely going to fall into a bottomless pit of mediocrity and failure. But in our efforts to present the finest music in the best way, have we become delusion about our influence and our worth in the world? As we emphasize excellence and quality literature in our curriculum, the world seems to be marching to a different cadence. The more we demand the public to march to our tune, the less the public seems to respond. Our reaction to this problem is not to find people where they are or to seek out their preferences for sound, but, rather to become our own applause for what we offer. We clap loud and we clap long for ourselves while the world walks out the door to find something different.
Much of life as a scholar in academia is spent teaching, researching, and serving institutions and communities, knowing there is little notoriety or public acknowledgment of the practice. While no academic intends to divorce his or her discipline from economic reality nor from public opinion, to ignore such realities is to fall into banality and institutional selfishness. Even worse is to become our own fan club propagating generations into the same banal trappings. How do we correct such action? It will require a substantive evaluation of music curriculum and an acceptance of a changing world. Mostly it will require letting go, at least to some extent, of the art music we hold so dear and allowing the market to guide the direction of musical needs for the future. Can this be done with integrity, with rigor, with respect for the heritage of music? Time to roll up our sleeves and give it a try.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
The Clash in Education
Higher Education is struggling to determine what is quality education and what is the role of the digital communication in an educational institution. The age old system of a highly qualified scholar standing in front of a class of eager students learning amazing new things that combine the brilliance of a teacher with that of an excellent textbook is under question. We have watched the anomalous online course creep into a catalog almost like arthritis makes its way into our bodies. It starts subtly, almost nonchalantly until one day you realize your joints are hurting and not functioning quite as well. What began as very slight difference became ubiquitous and serious.
But unlike arthritis, a debilitating problem that grows worse with aging, online courses are not diseases of destruction (regardless of the suspicion of some faculty), slowly making their way through education until all is in ruins, online courses are simply another mode of delivery of information, and they are changing the entire face of education due to their quality and to their convenience. Online courses allow for targeted learning outcomes, assessments, objective and subjective responses, dialog, socialization in a digital format, textbook and research access, and great variety of learning opportunities. When we consider the three concerns of education, cost, convenience, and quality, we realize that online courses, in spite of the suspicion of quality, meet a minimum of one of these concerns with the possibility of two.
For hundreds of years, education has been about students seeking and finding quality teachers and being willing to pay for the privilege of learning from them in a direct experience. Teachers have responded in kind by waiting patiently and comfortably for students to sit at their feet learning. Institutions supported the brilliant teacher by providing classrooms, desks, bookstores, residential halls, meals, student life experiences, and diplomas to certify accomplishment and achievement. This remarkable system worked and culture responded well by richly rewarding those with degrees through increased salaries and societal refinement.
But is the system slowly crumbling before our eyes like drive-in theatres or dial telephones? Are we going to lose the idea of an eager student seeking out the wisdom of a learned scholar? How do we combat this trend or should we even try? Assuming the past is gone and the system no longer functions as it once did, it is time to alter the system of education and take it to the students. And many institutions and people are doing that very thing. The digital world allows for the exporting of the sage scholar to the people, allowing for great convenience for the learners and, in most cases, the teachers. While this does not answer the question of cost nor quality, it does solve the issue of convenience.
Because of the free market system, pricing remains at the discretion of the teachers or, in most cases, the institutions seeking after a market share of students. While pricing and cost is integral to the process of education, it is beyond the scope of this particular diatribe. We may often believe the hamburger at the local restaurant is overpriced, but it is our choice to pay the price, request a lower price, or seek another locale. The same is true of education. Admittedly, it seems rather maudlin to reduce education to a consumer mentality but at its core, maybe such a commodious interpretation of education is not entirely wrong.
Now we need to address the idea of quality. If quality is dependent upon the personality and verbal communication skills of the collective wisdom of individual teachers, then online courses have little chance of surviving. It is true that the physical presence of a teacher in front of actual students at one time did define quality education and even the judicious invoking of technology interfered with that process, and that such remains the attitude of many and the prevalent practice of traditional education. But social media demonstrates each day that the digital world provides a strong element of human connectedness and that we benefit from others in spite of long distances. One may argue that social media is not learning an academic discipline, but there is no doubt that the potential for learning in a digital format is real and active.
A closer look at what quality means in education as determined by longitudinal studies, collective data, employment records, and standardized testing will ultimately reveal the truth. Meanwhile, higher education continues to feel the strain of a "traditional" face to face approach versus the convenience of online learning. Whatever the end result, which will probably be some kind of hybrid system for younger students and mostly online for older, there is no doubt that technology has dramatically disrupted virtually everything about our educational practices. But somehow we humans keep demanding human contact and for that reason, and maybe that alone, there is still value in the face-to-face experience. We still want to "shake the hand" of the leader we are following, and we still enjoy personal interaction. As in most cultural clashes, society and education will probably land on the planet that embraces both the gain of personal contact while benefiting from all that technology has to offer.
But unlike arthritis, a debilitating problem that grows worse with aging, online courses are not diseases of destruction (regardless of the suspicion of some faculty), slowly making their way through education until all is in ruins, online courses are simply another mode of delivery of information, and they are changing the entire face of education due to their quality and to their convenience. Online courses allow for targeted learning outcomes, assessments, objective and subjective responses, dialog, socialization in a digital format, textbook and research access, and great variety of learning opportunities. When we consider the three concerns of education, cost, convenience, and quality, we realize that online courses, in spite of the suspicion of quality, meet a minimum of one of these concerns with the possibility of two.
For hundreds of years, education has been about students seeking and finding quality teachers and being willing to pay for the privilege of learning from them in a direct experience. Teachers have responded in kind by waiting patiently and comfortably for students to sit at their feet learning. Institutions supported the brilliant teacher by providing classrooms, desks, bookstores, residential halls, meals, student life experiences, and diplomas to certify accomplishment and achievement. This remarkable system worked and culture responded well by richly rewarding those with degrees through increased salaries and societal refinement.
But is the system slowly crumbling before our eyes like drive-in theatres or dial telephones? Are we going to lose the idea of an eager student seeking out the wisdom of a learned scholar? How do we combat this trend or should we even try? Assuming the past is gone and the system no longer functions as it once did, it is time to alter the system of education and take it to the students. And many institutions and people are doing that very thing. The digital world allows for the exporting of the sage scholar to the people, allowing for great convenience for the learners and, in most cases, the teachers. While this does not answer the question of cost nor quality, it does solve the issue of convenience.
Because of the free market system, pricing remains at the discretion of the teachers or, in most cases, the institutions seeking after a market share of students. While pricing and cost is integral to the process of education, it is beyond the scope of this particular diatribe. We may often believe the hamburger at the local restaurant is overpriced, but it is our choice to pay the price, request a lower price, or seek another locale. The same is true of education. Admittedly, it seems rather maudlin to reduce education to a consumer mentality but at its core, maybe such a commodious interpretation of education is not entirely wrong.
Now we need to address the idea of quality. If quality is dependent upon the personality and verbal communication skills of the collective wisdom of individual teachers, then online courses have little chance of surviving. It is true that the physical presence of a teacher in front of actual students at one time did define quality education and even the judicious invoking of technology interfered with that process, and that such remains the attitude of many and the prevalent practice of traditional education. But social media demonstrates each day that the digital world provides a strong element of human connectedness and that we benefit from others in spite of long distances. One may argue that social media is not learning an academic discipline, but there is no doubt that the potential for learning in a digital format is real and active.
A closer look at what quality means in education as determined by longitudinal studies, collective data, employment records, and standardized testing will ultimately reveal the truth. Meanwhile, higher education continues to feel the strain of a "traditional" face to face approach versus the convenience of online learning. Whatever the end result, which will probably be some kind of hybrid system for younger students and mostly online for older, there is no doubt that technology has dramatically disrupted virtually everything about our educational practices. But somehow we humans keep demanding human contact and for that reason, and maybe that alone, there is still value in the face-to-face experience. We still want to "shake the hand" of the leader we are following, and we still enjoy personal interaction. As in most cultural clashes, society and education will probably land on the planet that embraces both the gain of personal contact while benefiting from all that technology has to offer.
Thursday, February 06, 2014
A rare personal story
Uncomfortable sharing personal stories related to health, I have decided to allow a little vulnerability to enter my blog with the idea that this entry may be a benefit to someone else. Without going into great and unnecessary detail, on January 6 I went to the Emergency Room at 4:00 a.m. due to extreme abdominal pain. After several tests, the physician in charge informed me of a deep vein thrombosis in my mesenteric vein, which I was later told is a very rare condition. In other words I had a blood clot. Not fully understanding the difficulty of this problem, I believe my first reaction was one of confusion, after all, what is a blood clot and why would it contribute to abdominal pain?
Keep in mind I had never been in the ER before and in fact had never spent any time in hospital other than visiting friends and family. I am 53 years old, in good shape, generally healthy, aside from an occasional ear infection and the beginnings of arthritis, and lead the life of an academic who enjoys the outdoors and being productive. When the doctor informed me of the blood clot, I recalled my time at the bodies exhibit in Dallas when I learn about the 60,000 plus miles of blood vessels in our bodies and thought one little clot was insignificant. Yet when he informed me I was in an emergency situation and would be transported immediately to Scott & White for surgery, I realized things were serious. By this time, I was more or less fuzzy with pain-killers and had trouble checking into reality completely. Soon I was strapped down on a gurney, loaded into an ambulance and headed down the highway. Still in pain mixed with pain killers, it was difficult to process what was happening.
The trip was fairly short, although I admit it is difficult to remember very well. I do recall the attendant telling someone that "the patient is calm, cooperative, and has a high tolerance for pain." I tried to get her attention to tell her she was completely wrong, but things were happening so fast by this time that I was not sure where I was much less anyone else. After some more painkillers, I recall a room where people moved quickly including nurses, attendants, physicians, and finally surgeons. One doctor asked me several questions that I had trouble processing. Luckily my wife and mother were near to clarify the confusion. The surgical team came in and said the blood clot was very deep, in a sensitive place, and that surgery would be possible but difficult and posed serious risk. In addition, the recovery time would be extensive. They recommended dealing with it medically rather than surgically. Soon I was admitted to the hospital and taken to the top floor where I spent the next six days as a human pin cushion. I had two IVs, blood taken from both arms many times, and lots of terms I could not comprehend. The first three days are hazy as I spent them on painkillers. By the fourth day, I could carry on a conversation and actually remember it. The meds were aggressively dealing with keeping the internal organs alive while working to dissolve the blood clot.
I was released after six days, came home, and went to work the next day. But for one week I gave myself two shots per day in the stomach and remained on a liquid diet. Now 4 weeks later, I am still on blood thinners and checking my levels periodically at the lab. We hope the clot dissolves within the next few months or that the body adjusts itself to the different blood flow. On the downside, if the clot decides to move to a different location, the result could be devastating. I now feel great, have lost nearly 20 pounds (needed to), and have my energy back. Yet I am well aware of the dangerous situation I was in and, in a way, still am in at this time.
In spite of the concern, I am keenly committed to living my life fully each day with energy, optimism, kindness, and productivity. Looking at things a little differently, but not dramatically so, each day is a special gift and not one to waste nor to take for granted. There is much to do and much to learn, many things to accomplish and many ways to make a difference in the world. Mainly I am ever more thankful for my family, friends, doctors, job, church, and the Lord who makes all things possible. May the journey continue!
Keep in mind I had never been in the ER before and in fact had never spent any time in hospital other than visiting friends and family. I am 53 years old, in good shape, generally healthy, aside from an occasional ear infection and the beginnings of arthritis, and lead the life of an academic who enjoys the outdoors and being productive. When the doctor informed me of the blood clot, I recalled my time at the bodies exhibit in Dallas when I learn about the 60,000 plus miles of blood vessels in our bodies and thought one little clot was insignificant. Yet when he informed me I was in an emergency situation and would be transported immediately to Scott & White for surgery, I realized things were serious. By this time, I was more or less fuzzy with pain-killers and had trouble checking into reality completely. Soon I was strapped down on a gurney, loaded into an ambulance and headed down the highway. Still in pain mixed with pain killers, it was difficult to process what was happening.
The trip was fairly short, although I admit it is difficult to remember very well. I do recall the attendant telling someone that "the patient is calm, cooperative, and has a high tolerance for pain." I tried to get her attention to tell her she was completely wrong, but things were happening so fast by this time that I was not sure where I was much less anyone else. After some more painkillers, I recall a room where people moved quickly including nurses, attendants, physicians, and finally surgeons. One doctor asked me several questions that I had trouble processing. Luckily my wife and mother were near to clarify the confusion. The surgical team came in and said the blood clot was very deep, in a sensitive place, and that surgery would be possible but difficult and posed serious risk. In addition, the recovery time would be extensive. They recommended dealing with it medically rather than surgically. Soon I was admitted to the hospital and taken to the top floor where I spent the next six days as a human pin cushion. I had two IVs, blood taken from both arms many times, and lots of terms I could not comprehend. The first three days are hazy as I spent them on painkillers. By the fourth day, I could carry on a conversation and actually remember it. The meds were aggressively dealing with keeping the internal organs alive while working to dissolve the blood clot.
I was released after six days, came home, and went to work the next day. But for one week I gave myself two shots per day in the stomach and remained on a liquid diet. Now 4 weeks later, I am still on blood thinners and checking my levels periodically at the lab. We hope the clot dissolves within the next few months or that the body adjusts itself to the different blood flow. On the downside, if the clot decides to move to a different location, the result could be devastating. I now feel great, have lost nearly 20 pounds (needed to), and have my energy back. Yet I am well aware of the dangerous situation I was in and, in a way, still am in at this time.
In spite of the concern, I am keenly committed to living my life fully each day with energy, optimism, kindness, and productivity. Looking at things a little differently, but not dramatically so, each day is a special gift and not one to waste nor to take for granted. There is much to do and much to learn, many things to accomplish and many ways to make a difference in the world. Mainly I am ever more thankful for my family, friends, doctors, job, church, and the Lord who makes all things possible. May the journey continue!
Monday, January 27, 2014
Letter to Mozart
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
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
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.
Saturday, December 28, 2013
The Clash of the Subwoofer
In 1974, when Earthquake came to the theatres, we experienced "Sensurround" for the first time. I recall feeling the bass in the room as we watched the action unfold before us. The rumbling of the engulfing bass added to the "real" feeling of the movie and contributed to the experience of watching the movie. Although not necessarily an advanced nor refined sound, the audiences were treated to very low frequencies produced by subwoofers in a studio. Excellent acting and cool sounds did little to make up for a weak plot, and the movie has found a small cult following along with The Towering Inferno and other disaster films of the 70s. As an aside, the film included an outstanding performance by the former revivalist Marjoe Gortner, famous for his childhood role as an added enticement for more money during revivals with this father. But I have digressed from the purpose of this essay.
As a young teenager destined for a musical life, I was not aware that "Sensurround" (a goofy but effective technique) would actually change the way we hear music and thus alter the musical world perhaps forever. The subwoofer became the norm for sound enhancement and we now hear the subwoofer in most musical performances that are not naturally acoustical. Ironically, despite its frequent use and obvious benefits, the subwoofer does not really produce comprehensive, musical tones by our human definition. The sounds of a subwoofer are too low for human reproduction and aside from the occasional replicated anomalous sounds in nature, not fully understood by our ears. While one could argue that the fundamental tones of the natural harmonic series are occurring all the time in nature and in the atmosphere, our limited ability to hear all tones around us prevent us from identifying the extreme low and high frequencies. Not unlike atoms which we know exist but cannot see, fundamental tones are not always audible, but by virtue of their foundational existence, are essential to sounds we actually can hear and understand.
Subwoofers greatly enhance the bass of a musical ensemble and open up the sound to a richness not previously experienced prior to the subwoofer. It is what makes our bodies want to move, it makes us feel the music, it provides a wide range of sound that amplifies not only the sound but the entire audible experience as well. It is also what annoys us when a "loud" automobile is nearby, and it can spark fear in us when we are near a jet airplane or when a tornado is close. In short, the subwoofer has changed the way we hear and respond to music, and there is no going back. It is here to stay and music (many would argue) is better for it.
But the human experience of making music cannot replicate the subwoofer in any kind of natural way. Before explaining further, I must qualify that a large pipe organ as well as a few musical instruments such as a contrabasson, contraclarinets, and bass drums do come close to this replication although with limitations. Admittedly, having experienced pipe organs in large cathedrals, I believe I responded to the sound much in the same way I have felt the subwoofer in rock concerts and at the showing of Earthquake many years ago. These examples aside, concerts of people singing or playing instruments without sound enhancement cannot have the added benefit of the subwoofer. An acoustic environment is certainly appealing but only insofar as the human can perform well. This is not to disparage the remarkable abilities of great musical performers, but it is to say that sound enhancement has dramatically altered societal preferences for music making. With exceptions, we are no longer as enamored with the natural acoustic sound as we once were. We have been given a taste of amplification, of mixing, of effects, of new frequencies, of sound control, and of subwoofers and most people like it.
Herein lies the cultural clash: between those who prefer the natural acoustical sound made by humans without electronic enhancement, and those who prefer some kind of electronic manipulation of the sound. This tension is felt in churches, in academic circles, in concert venues, and in music education where we teach an acoustical approach to music but are subject to the joyful or, in some cases, subversives whims of sound enhancement and sound managers. Few academically trained musicians have knowledge in or even interest in electronics, amplification, woofers, subwoofers, frequencies, or really anything besides excellence in performance. In a way, however, their rejection or at least lack of consideration is their loss, for well-managed sound enhancement can certainly add to most performances. If this is a battle between natural acoustics and sound enhancement, who will win and will the cultures ever merge?
In the end, the subwoofer improves the overall quality of the experience for the listener and most people will agree that it provides depth and warmth to the music. In defense of acoustically pure music performances in an ideal space for natural music making, it sure is easier to deal with than having to worry about sound systems. Perhaps the clash we musicians feel is partly about the fear of giving up a modicum of control to sound managers who have little musical training. But that, my friends, is yet another subject for discussion.
As a young teenager destined for a musical life, I was not aware that "Sensurround" (a goofy but effective technique) would actually change the way we hear music and thus alter the musical world perhaps forever. The subwoofer became the norm for sound enhancement and we now hear the subwoofer in most musical performances that are not naturally acoustical. Ironically, despite its frequent use and obvious benefits, the subwoofer does not really produce comprehensive, musical tones by our human definition. The sounds of a subwoofer are too low for human reproduction and aside from the occasional replicated anomalous sounds in nature, not fully understood by our ears. While one could argue that the fundamental tones of the natural harmonic series are occurring all the time in nature and in the atmosphere, our limited ability to hear all tones around us prevent us from identifying the extreme low and high frequencies. Not unlike atoms which we know exist but cannot see, fundamental tones are not always audible, but by virtue of their foundational existence, are essential to sounds we actually can hear and understand.
Subwoofers greatly enhance the bass of a musical ensemble and open up the sound to a richness not previously experienced prior to the subwoofer. It is what makes our bodies want to move, it makes us feel the music, it provides a wide range of sound that amplifies not only the sound but the entire audible experience as well. It is also what annoys us when a "loud" automobile is nearby, and it can spark fear in us when we are near a jet airplane or when a tornado is close. In short, the subwoofer has changed the way we hear and respond to music, and there is no going back. It is here to stay and music (many would argue) is better for it.
But the human experience of making music cannot replicate the subwoofer in any kind of natural way. Before explaining further, I must qualify that a large pipe organ as well as a few musical instruments such as a contrabasson, contraclarinets, and bass drums do come close to this replication although with limitations. Admittedly, having experienced pipe organs in large cathedrals, I believe I responded to the sound much in the same way I have felt the subwoofer in rock concerts and at the showing of Earthquake many years ago. These examples aside, concerts of people singing or playing instruments without sound enhancement cannot have the added benefit of the subwoofer. An acoustic environment is certainly appealing but only insofar as the human can perform well. This is not to disparage the remarkable abilities of great musical performers, but it is to say that sound enhancement has dramatically altered societal preferences for music making. With exceptions, we are no longer as enamored with the natural acoustic sound as we once were. We have been given a taste of amplification, of mixing, of effects, of new frequencies, of sound control, and of subwoofers and most people like it.
Herein lies the cultural clash: between those who prefer the natural acoustical sound made by humans without electronic enhancement, and those who prefer some kind of electronic manipulation of the sound. This tension is felt in churches, in academic circles, in concert venues, and in music education where we teach an acoustical approach to music but are subject to the joyful or, in some cases, subversives whims of sound enhancement and sound managers. Few academically trained musicians have knowledge in or even interest in electronics, amplification, woofers, subwoofers, frequencies, or really anything besides excellence in performance. In a way, however, their rejection or at least lack of consideration is their loss, for well-managed sound enhancement can certainly add to most performances. If this is a battle between natural acoustics and sound enhancement, who will win and will the cultures ever merge?
In the end, the subwoofer improves the overall quality of the experience for the listener and most people will agree that it provides depth and warmth to the music. In defense of acoustically pure music performances in an ideal space for natural music making, it sure is easier to deal with than having to worry about sound systems. Perhaps the clash we musicians feel is partly about the fear of giving up a modicum of control to sound managers who have little musical training. But that, my friends, is yet another subject for discussion.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Thoughts on Frozen
Not being a big fan of animation, preferring real people over fanciful drawings and images, it was with a touch of suspicion that I and my family went to see Frozen. My fears increased as I sat through nearly 20 minutes of cartoon ads and a dull Mickey Mouse cartoon. Nearly falling asleep and dreading more animation (yes, I know I can be a grump at times), the movie began.
Not sure exactly when I got drawn in. Perhaps it was the girls building a snowman or the precision of the animation or events of the first few minutes, but I really believe it was the great music. The snowman song was terrific and after the girl got hurt, the score suddenly became ominous with rich orchestral sounds followed by rhythmic energy and complex but tonal harmonic motion. Rather than hearing sound effects from the orchestra, we heard an eclectic mix of orchestral sounds that incorporated thematic motives juxtaposed with appropriate contrasts perfectly aligned with the events on the screen.
The story proceeds rather typically in a type of allegory about power, kingdoms, love, confusion, relationships, and comic relief. In a broad sense, it was a classic "love solves all" kind of plot with some twists and turns including bad guys, good guys, and plenty of tension. But underneath the rather cliched story we find great characters, stunning visual effects, amazing and beautiful crystals, and a depth rarely found in movies today. Little Olaf was absolutely hilarious and the snow monster scenes were intense and spectacular. The hints of anti-totalitarianism, of the value of charity, the problems with isolationism, the value of family, the way human actions spawn events that have far-reaching implications, and the joy of those who are outside the mainstream of looks and behavior all came together for a movie to be enjoyed by all ages.
The images were magnificent and the energy moved forth all the way to the end where everything turned out well. But aside from the tension, the interesting dialogs, the amazing graphics, and the physical comedy, it was the songs that jumped out as outstanding. In a musical theatre style, each song contained harmonic interest, rhythmic complexity, memorable melodies, zippy texts, and goal-directed dynamic growth. In short, simply great songs all the way through the movie. If anything, I wanted more and am hoping to see this show on the stage someday. Probably worth traveling to London if it makes to the West End!
Wonderful movie for all ages. I encourage everyone to experience Frozen. As in all great art, you will be changed in some magical way.
Not sure exactly when I got drawn in. Perhaps it was the girls building a snowman or the precision of the animation or events of the first few minutes, but I really believe it was the great music. The snowman song was terrific and after the girl got hurt, the score suddenly became ominous with rich orchestral sounds followed by rhythmic energy and complex but tonal harmonic motion. Rather than hearing sound effects from the orchestra, we heard an eclectic mix of orchestral sounds that incorporated thematic motives juxtaposed with appropriate contrasts perfectly aligned with the events on the screen.
The story proceeds rather typically in a type of allegory about power, kingdoms, love, confusion, relationships, and comic relief. In a broad sense, it was a classic "love solves all" kind of plot with some twists and turns including bad guys, good guys, and plenty of tension. But underneath the rather cliched story we find great characters, stunning visual effects, amazing and beautiful crystals, and a depth rarely found in movies today. Little Olaf was absolutely hilarious and the snow monster scenes were intense and spectacular. The hints of anti-totalitarianism, of the value of charity, the problems with isolationism, the value of family, the way human actions spawn events that have far-reaching implications, and the joy of those who are outside the mainstream of looks and behavior all came together for a movie to be enjoyed by all ages.
The images were magnificent and the energy moved forth all the way to the end where everything turned out well. But aside from the tension, the interesting dialogs, the amazing graphics, and the physical comedy, it was the songs that jumped out as outstanding. In a musical theatre style, each song contained harmonic interest, rhythmic complexity, memorable melodies, zippy texts, and goal-directed dynamic growth. In short, simply great songs all the way through the movie. If anything, I wanted more and am hoping to see this show on the stage someday. Probably worth traveling to London if it makes to the West End!
Wonderful movie for all ages. I encourage everyone to experience Frozen. As in all great art, you will be changed in some magical way.
Orchestras, Operas, and Opportunities
As clichéd as it sounds, it is true that challenges can be seen as opportunities. Such is the case with the arts and music in particular. Many symphony orchestras and some opera houses continue to struggle to pay the bills. Their personnel and operating costs are greater than their revenue, forcing them to rely solely on sponsorships and donations to stay solvent. While businesses and donors have traditionally given to the arts, they are beginning to be suspicious of the inherent value and even future of the symphony orchestra. Nobody wants to support a sinking ship, and until orchestras find ways to bring in revenues through ticket sales, they will likely remain on life support.
Let us play the blame game. It is possible that poor management of many orchestras has caused some of the problems. Good managers control costs and find ways to maximize profits, recognizing the value of a strong marketing mix, segmentation, careful accounting, and appealing products. Good managers have a working knowledge of cost accounting, budgeting, human resources, leadership, the future value of money, inventory, and pricing. Granted, the challenges of dealing with symphony orchestras are excessively complicated and require skills not normally needed in the corporate world, but the essence of good management must remain true in spite of the unusual structure of an orchestra.
But management is not the whole story of where the blame lies, in fact management is probably not the real story at all. A manager is essentially an employee of the board, and the board is the controlling and responsible entity of the orchestra. The board has a fiduciary responsibility to ensure the solvency of the organization, whether that is through donations, ticket sales, or sponsorships. The board, hopefully, is comprised of those who love music but also have enough business acumen to make wise decisions for the present and future of the ensemble. And herein lies the tension, the board as the responsible entity, must remain in control, at least to an extent, with the programming of the orchestra. This then means the conductor of the orchestra is an employee not an employer of the board of directors. Yikes!
A conductor of an orchestra has achieved his/her position through a combination of factors including great talent, tenacity, leadership, people skills, wisdom, and intellect. Their leadership abilities are a marriage of musical talent, confidence, and unswerving dedication to excellence in all things. Outstanding conductors, by virtue of their abilities, are often strong in opinions, relentless in effort, and goal-directed in their leadership. Asking a great conductor to bend to the will of a board is difficult at best. When all goals are the same--musical and financial--the results will be positive for all constituents, and the board will be able to pay the bills and enjoy great music. A wise board gives the conductor the latitude to make the musical decisions that are best for the orchestra, the community, and for the cause of music. But how much freedom should be allowed when revenues decline and the goals of presenting great music fly in the face of paying the bills? Conductor autonomy only works when boards, musicians, and community meet all the artistic and financial goals, and when all constituents work congruently for those same goals.
But this rarely happens in today's eclectic world of changing tastes, digital transmission, and unpredictable behavior. What kind of live music will sell tickets and how should an orchestra (a medium with a long, prosperous, and highly respected heritage) respond to the need to generate revenue? Should we abandon the old in favor of the new? Should we give up on the canon of "classical" music that has stood the test of time and been highly valued for over a century? Isn't classical or art music the best kind of music with the greatest qualities? Without classical music, are we destined to become a society of popcorn and candy cane eaters without any artistic sense, living in a quagmire of artistic mediocrity totally devoid of depth and quality?
The philosophical tug-of-war between artistic elites, lovers of classical music, and those seeking a lighter more eclectic offering, although not new, is more pronounced today than ever before, with the result being a significant drop in revenues for most orchestras and operas. For the orchestra to survive, boards and conductors must work together to program concerts that will attract and interest audiences. The art form, regardless of whether it is a string quartet, concert band, symphony orchestra, ballet, solo piano, or opera must be able to support itself and demonstrate greater revenues than expenses.
To those holding onto an unsustainable model from the past, it is time to examine the role of music in today's culture and think beyond personal preference. It is time to embrace a global music perspective that amalgamates many genres from the past as well as the present, while retaining the congruence of the collective spirit. For those who despair that the demise of operas, orchestras, and "classical" music is a sign of the hopelessness of the modern world, I recommend living in a personal cave of recordings and videos while longing for the past to return. For the others, there is now an opportunity to discover new art forms, to try new ways of making music, to embrace eclecticism, to put aside differences and find common ground, to develop new audiences, and to recognize that music is alive and well today in many forms, from many lands, and in a multitude of styles.
Let us play the blame game. It is possible that poor management of many orchestras has caused some of the problems. Good managers control costs and find ways to maximize profits, recognizing the value of a strong marketing mix, segmentation, careful accounting, and appealing products. Good managers have a working knowledge of cost accounting, budgeting, human resources, leadership, the future value of money, inventory, and pricing. Granted, the challenges of dealing with symphony orchestras are excessively complicated and require skills not normally needed in the corporate world, but the essence of good management must remain true in spite of the unusual structure of an orchestra.
But management is not the whole story of where the blame lies, in fact management is probably not the real story at all. A manager is essentially an employee of the board, and the board is the controlling and responsible entity of the orchestra. The board has a fiduciary responsibility to ensure the solvency of the organization, whether that is through donations, ticket sales, or sponsorships. The board, hopefully, is comprised of those who love music but also have enough business acumen to make wise decisions for the present and future of the ensemble. And herein lies the tension, the board as the responsible entity, must remain in control, at least to an extent, with the programming of the orchestra. This then means the conductor of the orchestra is an employee not an employer of the board of directors. Yikes!
A conductor of an orchestra has achieved his/her position through a combination of factors including great talent, tenacity, leadership, people skills, wisdom, and intellect. Their leadership abilities are a marriage of musical talent, confidence, and unswerving dedication to excellence in all things. Outstanding conductors, by virtue of their abilities, are often strong in opinions, relentless in effort, and goal-directed in their leadership. Asking a great conductor to bend to the will of a board is difficult at best. When all goals are the same--musical and financial--the results will be positive for all constituents, and the board will be able to pay the bills and enjoy great music. A wise board gives the conductor the latitude to make the musical decisions that are best for the orchestra, the community, and for the cause of music. But how much freedom should be allowed when revenues decline and the goals of presenting great music fly in the face of paying the bills? Conductor autonomy only works when boards, musicians, and community meet all the artistic and financial goals, and when all constituents work congruently for those same goals.
But this rarely happens in today's eclectic world of changing tastes, digital transmission, and unpredictable behavior. What kind of live music will sell tickets and how should an orchestra (a medium with a long, prosperous, and highly respected heritage) respond to the need to generate revenue? Should we abandon the old in favor of the new? Should we give up on the canon of "classical" music that has stood the test of time and been highly valued for over a century? Isn't classical or art music the best kind of music with the greatest qualities? Without classical music, are we destined to become a society of popcorn and candy cane eaters without any artistic sense, living in a quagmire of artistic mediocrity totally devoid of depth and quality?
The philosophical tug-of-war between artistic elites, lovers of classical music, and those seeking a lighter more eclectic offering, although not new, is more pronounced today than ever before, with the result being a significant drop in revenues for most orchestras and operas. For the orchestra to survive, boards and conductors must work together to program concerts that will attract and interest audiences. The art form, regardless of whether it is a string quartet, concert band, symphony orchestra, ballet, solo piano, or opera must be able to support itself and demonstrate greater revenues than expenses.
To those holding onto an unsustainable model from the past, it is time to examine the role of music in today's culture and think beyond personal preference. It is time to embrace a global music perspective that amalgamates many genres from the past as well as the present, while retaining the congruence of the collective spirit. For those who despair that the demise of operas, orchestras, and "classical" music is a sign of the hopelessness of the modern world, I recommend living in a personal cave of recordings and videos while longing for the past to return. For the others, there is now an opportunity to discover new art forms, to try new ways of making music, to embrace eclecticism, to put aside differences and find common ground, to develop new audiences, and to recognize that music is alive and well today in many forms, from many lands, and in a multitude of styles.
Friday, December 20, 2013
Anti-Luddism or Technology Solves All, okay Most
In opposition to some acquaintances and distant colleagues, I am not a Luddite at all. This does not mean I don't often miss the old days where our lives did not intersect dramatically with technology, but it does mean that I see technology as being that which can solve most of our societal problems. Knowing this sounds unlikely, I further see technology as enhancing and compounding opportunities for greater face time and personal relationship development. As I type this entry, I text three people, read two emails, check facebook periodically, listen to a video on using Google Docs, and consider developing my Excel skills. All this while being iced in due to poor weather.
True that all the technology in the world cannot solve the problems of bad weather, but perhaps one day technology can deliver products and goods for those captured by bad weather. Technology cannot directly help those struggling with depression or illness or relationship problems or the myriad of challenges that face us everyday, but it can help us understand we are not alone and technology can also provide data and information to help prevent future problems. A quick look at Google Trends reveals a decline in lung cancer. This could be attributed to a decline in smoking or simply an effort to improve the atmosphere. Technology's ability to disseminate information quickly to a wide audience is creating a new generation of people who are aware of health issues and how to avoid the pitfalls of certain behaviors.
This goes beyond health education and into personal behavior. Regardless of the naysayers I often meet, I contend that people are generally improving their actions and recognizing that their behavior has consequences both personally and collectively. Technology has inadvertently caused social accountability through the frequent use of cameras, Facebook, Twitter, videos, mobile phones, and email. While people may still have problems with rage or theft or bullying, these type of behaviors can be captured and widely distributed. In London while it may be invasive and feel a little like "big brother," there is no doubt that the video cameras located around the city have curtailed many negative behaviors.
Without having any official data, I believe students today are better behaved than past generations. Although I remain concerned with certain educational flaws due to the prevalence of technology, in general I find students know how to access information quickly and use that information to help them. Smartphones lend themselves to tremendous opportunities for knowledge, for insights, for cognitive facts, and for crowdsourcing curiosities. Technology holds institutions, organizations, and individuals accountable for behavior, for truth of information, and for quality. A poorly made product or a poor teacher are quickly identified and expressed publicly (much to the chagrin of some!). Technological advances allow us more time and opportunities to learn new things and to apply our knowledge in a multitude of ways. Online banking, shopping, Facebook, recipes, maps, and now even digital currency have given us new and exciting ways to live our lives.
All these and more have ironically contributed to more free time and more luxuries of relationship building. While some people may choose to have an unhealthy relationship to their gadgets (and I must admit to being tied to my mobile phone), most use technology to increase the efficiency of their day to day lives. This then results in more time to spend with friends watching movies, talking, "hanging out", and having fun. Perhaps over time we will see an increase in hobbies and interests outside of an individual's chosen profession. In a way, we get concerned when it seems that no part of our lives can escape technological advances, but in other ways we benefit from technology in all its complexities.
To say technology is perfect and makes our lives complete would be false, and there are many challenges associated with gadgets and advances. Frustration often sets in when I am forced to update my computer or punch in numbers when making a service phone call or battle the self-checkout line at Walmart. And I wonder about the absurd information on Facebook. I also get weary of answering 50 emails at work each day. I question the accountability quotient at times and fear the loss of privacy due to the constant invasive properties of technological advances. I often wistfully recall the days of a world without mobile phones, computers, and ease of information. But I refuse to be a Luddite and will continue to embrace our technological world with all its glories and the occasional misgivings.
True that all the technology in the world cannot solve the problems of bad weather, but perhaps one day technology can deliver products and goods for those captured by bad weather. Technology cannot directly help those struggling with depression or illness or relationship problems or the myriad of challenges that face us everyday, but it can help us understand we are not alone and technology can also provide data and information to help prevent future problems. A quick look at Google Trends reveals a decline in lung cancer. This could be attributed to a decline in smoking or simply an effort to improve the atmosphere. Technology's ability to disseminate information quickly to a wide audience is creating a new generation of people who are aware of health issues and how to avoid the pitfalls of certain behaviors.
This goes beyond health education and into personal behavior. Regardless of the naysayers I often meet, I contend that people are generally improving their actions and recognizing that their behavior has consequences both personally and collectively. Technology has inadvertently caused social accountability through the frequent use of cameras, Facebook, Twitter, videos, mobile phones, and email. While people may still have problems with rage or theft or bullying, these type of behaviors can be captured and widely distributed. In London while it may be invasive and feel a little like "big brother," there is no doubt that the video cameras located around the city have curtailed many negative behaviors.
Without having any official data, I believe students today are better behaved than past generations. Although I remain concerned with certain educational flaws due to the prevalence of technology, in general I find students know how to access information quickly and use that information to help them. Smartphones lend themselves to tremendous opportunities for knowledge, for insights, for cognitive facts, and for crowdsourcing curiosities. Technology holds institutions, organizations, and individuals accountable for behavior, for truth of information, and for quality. A poorly made product or a poor teacher are quickly identified and expressed publicly (much to the chagrin of some!). Technological advances allow us more time and opportunities to learn new things and to apply our knowledge in a multitude of ways. Online banking, shopping, Facebook, recipes, maps, and now even digital currency have given us new and exciting ways to live our lives.
All these and more have ironically contributed to more free time and more luxuries of relationship building. While some people may choose to have an unhealthy relationship to their gadgets (and I must admit to being tied to my mobile phone), most use technology to increase the efficiency of their day to day lives. This then results in more time to spend with friends watching movies, talking, "hanging out", and having fun. Perhaps over time we will see an increase in hobbies and interests outside of an individual's chosen profession. In a way, we get concerned when it seems that no part of our lives can escape technological advances, but in other ways we benefit from technology in all its complexities.
To say technology is perfect and makes our lives complete would be false, and there are many challenges associated with gadgets and advances. Frustration often sets in when I am forced to update my computer or punch in numbers when making a service phone call or battle the self-checkout line at Walmart. And I wonder about the absurd information on Facebook. I also get weary of answering 50 emails at work each day. I question the accountability quotient at times and fear the loss of privacy due to the constant invasive properties of technological advances. I often wistfully recall the days of a world without mobile phones, computers, and ease of information. But I refuse to be a Luddite and will continue to embrace our technological world with all its glories and the occasional misgivings.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
MBA and Education
With four degrees behind me, one would think I am highly educated and knowledgeable in many areas, able to impart great wisdom with alacrity and comprehension. Yet if I could say one thing that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, it is that I am absolutely certain of how little I really know. My education is not about completing a degree, it is about discovering new things, of revealing truths, of finding new pathways to goals, and about applying knowledge to all facets of life. But as noble as all of this sounds, in truth I remain ignorant of so much.
The more I study accounting, management, ratios, and finance, the more I discover how much I still need to learn. Not unlike music, there seems to be no end to the knowledge required to be a successful money manager. The more I know, the less I know. In a way, this is the journey of a lifelong learner, one who cannot seem to get enough knowledge in many areas. The formal education means nothing without an insatiable curiousity and without an awareness of one's own limitations. In fact, the enemy of knowledge is the unbridled arrogance that prevents further improvement; whereas, the friend of knowledge is a curious mind. That coupled with a desire for understanding are ultimately the spicy ingredients that lead to humility in its totality.
Humility and receptiveness are the keys to knowledge. My knowing that I cannot know everything and that getting an education is simply one way to acquire a modicum of knowledge and skills, are extremely humbling ideas and, at the same time, strangely amusing. Acquiring an education has little to do with intelligence and everything to do with humility, curiosity, and tenacity. Unfortunately, in my case, it simply demonstrates how little I truly know and how much more I wish to know. To that end, I continue my quest for knowledge and will now dive into books, into writing, and into trying to have greater comprehension of the arts and of the world of business.
The more I study accounting, management, ratios, and finance, the more I discover how much I still need to learn. Not unlike music, there seems to be no end to the knowledge required to be a successful money manager. The more I know, the less I know. In a way, this is the journey of a lifelong learner, one who cannot seem to get enough knowledge in many areas. The formal education means nothing without an insatiable curiousity and without an awareness of one's own limitations. In fact, the enemy of knowledge is the unbridled arrogance that prevents further improvement; whereas, the friend of knowledge is a curious mind. That coupled with a desire for understanding are ultimately the spicy ingredients that lead to humility in its totality.
Humility and receptiveness are the keys to knowledge. My knowing that I cannot know everything and that getting an education is simply one way to acquire a modicum of knowledge and skills, are extremely humbling ideas and, at the same time, strangely amusing. Acquiring an education has little to do with intelligence and everything to do with humility, curiosity, and tenacity. Unfortunately, in my case, it simply demonstrates how little I truly know and how much more I wish to know. To that end, I continue my quest for knowledge and will now dive into books, into writing, and into trying to have greater comprehension of the arts and of the world of business.
The World of Music
Having completed my Masters of Business Administration, it is now time to start blogging again. Knowing there are very few readers of my blog, mostly due to the hiatus of nearly 2 years, I feel led to express my thoughts regardless of the readership. Several lofty goals are rolling around in my head for the future including writing two books, pursuing some licenses, starting a rock band (okay, I know that is absurd), and investing in some kind of venture. But for now, let's just talk about music.
Audra McDonald is simply fantastic in the recent staged version of Sound of Music. To me, the classic song "Climb Every Mountain" has become a little bit stale over the last several years. A good song, its blocked chords and lack of rhythmic variety has prevented it from becoming a staple in the broadway repertoire. As I listen to the various songs in the recent Sound of Music, the performance of Climb Every Mountain stands out. Not unlike the stunning performance of On My Own by Samantha Barks in Les Miserables, Audra McDonald sings with great energy, intensity, and expression. A great singer does not sing at the notes and shrug off the text but, instead, applies meaning to each syllable, connecting the text and music in a bold expression of emotion. Audra McDonald does all this and more as she is both authentic and convincing in her performance. The power of her voice and her ability to turn a phrase while communicating the text made me want to jump up and conquer every mountain I find!
Recently discovering the songs of Reynaldo Hahn, I have been listening to Susan Graham sing these marvelous songs. A touch simplistic, they are still very beautiful with mesmerizing expression and moments of peaceful, serene joy. Both sublime and appealing, Hahn's music is the right recipe at the end of a stressful day. Not unlike Benjamin Britten's British folk songs, Reynaldo Hahn's songs have qualities that make them accessible to all people while retaining the qualities often associated with art music.
Speaking of sublime, I got in a discussion with an art teacher over the value of Lucien Freud's art. She made the statement that his art is sublime without being pleasant. Thinking that through, I am in full agreement with this statement. His art is disturbing and almost disgusting to me in a way, but at the same time, it seems to reach beyond the obvious and into the depth of what it means to be human. The discussion reminds me to avoid the trappings of seeing art and hearing music in its superficialities. Great art requires time to absorb and such is true of the art of Lucien Freud.
The song Roar by Katy Perry continues to be enjoyed by all (okay, most) and I find it compositionally interesting. It has some nice elision of phrases, a prevalent usage of pentatonic scales, and some rhythmic displacement of accents. Add to the music a solid performance by a fine pop singer, and you have a hit! It really is a zingy song and somehow always puts a smile on my face and provides a sense of confidence and power. In short, it is an inspiring song. Nearly as appealing but in an edgier style is Applause by Lady Gaga. Her voice is captivating and the variety within the song, including range changes and melodic leaps, gives it a lasting appeal. Probably not for everyone, Lady Gaga continues to reach audiences with her antics and pop musical depth.
But no essay on music can leave out my continued admiration for the music of Johannes Brahms. In spite of my enjoyment of rock and pop music, I always find myself listening to Brahms and admiring his craft and expression. Every time I hear the last movement of Symphony No. 2, I end up ranking it among the greatest works of the 19th century (Beethoven's Violin Concerto in the group as well). And I still enjoy the grand symphonies of Gustav Mahler and the tone poems of Richard Strauss. Who can criticize the late works of master composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart? His last few operas are among the greatest works of the classical era.
Back to rock...Chicago, Blood Sweat & Tears, Styx, Bon Jovi, Stevie Wonder along with another dozen or so remain appealing. Fooling Yourself (Angry Young Man) by the Styx is a blast and I have yet to hear a song by Stevie Wonder that I didn't like. Over in the Christian world, I am a big fan of the music of Keith Getty with his nice blend of hymns and choruses. Chris Tomlin is not necessarily my favorite performer, but he sure writes a singable song and continues to sing and write outstanding music in those circles.
Okay, enough pontificating about music. I am probably one of the most eclectic musicians in the business!
Audra McDonald is simply fantastic in the recent staged version of Sound of Music. To me, the classic song "Climb Every Mountain" has become a little bit stale over the last several years. A good song, its blocked chords and lack of rhythmic variety has prevented it from becoming a staple in the broadway repertoire. As I listen to the various songs in the recent Sound of Music, the performance of Climb Every Mountain stands out. Not unlike the stunning performance of On My Own by Samantha Barks in Les Miserables, Audra McDonald sings with great energy, intensity, and expression. A great singer does not sing at the notes and shrug off the text but, instead, applies meaning to each syllable, connecting the text and music in a bold expression of emotion. Audra McDonald does all this and more as she is both authentic and convincing in her performance. The power of her voice and her ability to turn a phrase while communicating the text made me want to jump up and conquer every mountain I find!
Recently discovering the songs of Reynaldo Hahn, I have been listening to Susan Graham sing these marvelous songs. A touch simplistic, they are still very beautiful with mesmerizing expression and moments of peaceful, serene joy. Both sublime and appealing, Hahn's music is the right recipe at the end of a stressful day. Not unlike Benjamin Britten's British folk songs, Reynaldo Hahn's songs have qualities that make them accessible to all people while retaining the qualities often associated with art music.
Speaking of sublime, I got in a discussion with an art teacher over the value of Lucien Freud's art. She made the statement that his art is sublime without being pleasant. Thinking that through, I am in full agreement with this statement. His art is disturbing and almost disgusting to me in a way, but at the same time, it seems to reach beyond the obvious and into the depth of what it means to be human. The discussion reminds me to avoid the trappings of seeing art and hearing music in its superficialities. Great art requires time to absorb and such is true of the art of Lucien Freud.
The song Roar by Katy Perry continues to be enjoyed by all (okay, most) and I find it compositionally interesting. It has some nice elision of phrases, a prevalent usage of pentatonic scales, and some rhythmic displacement of accents. Add to the music a solid performance by a fine pop singer, and you have a hit! It really is a zingy song and somehow always puts a smile on my face and provides a sense of confidence and power. In short, it is an inspiring song. Nearly as appealing but in an edgier style is Applause by Lady Gaga. Her voice is captivating and the variety within the song, including range changes and melodic leaps, gives it a lasting appeal. Probably not for everyone, Lady Gaga continues to reach audiences with her antics and pop musical depth.
But no essay on music can leave out my continued admiration for the music of Johannes Brahms. In spite of my enjoyment of rock and pop music, I always find myself listening to Brahms and admiring his craft and expression. Every time I hear the last movement of Symphony No. 2, I end up ranking it among the greatest works of the 19th century (Beethoven's Violin Concerto in the group as well). And I still enjoy the grand symphonies of Gustav Mahler and the tone poems of Richard Strauss. Who can criticize the late works of master composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart? His last few operas are among the greatest works of the classical era.
Back to rock...Chicago, Blood Sweat & Tears, Styx, Bon Jovi, Stevie Wonder along with another dozen or so remain appealing. Fooling Yourself (Angry Young Man) by the Styx is a blast and I have yet to hear a song by Stevie Wonder that I didn't like. Over in the Christian world, I am a big fan of the music of Keith Getty with his nice blend of hymns and choruses. Chris Tomlin is not necessarily my favorite performer, but he sure writes a singable song and continues to sing and write outstanding music in those circles.
Okay, enough pontificating about music. I am probably one of the most eclectic musicians in the business!
Sunday, June 09, 2013
Sensemaking and Folksongs
Coming across the term "sensemaking" in my Organizational Communication textbook, I cynically wondered why academics continually make up words to fit some sort of ideology. It seemed to me that "sensemaking" is the normal thing we do everyday in all situations and should not require some sort of term to describe normal events. Yet as I kept my sarcasm going in my head, I also decided to examine the usage more carefully. In all honesty, I was completely wrong in my suspicion, and my cynicism was totally without merit. Sensemaking is alive and well and is a worthy practice for all organizations and leaders.
The author of the textbook referenced a man named Karl Weick which then led me to read more about sensemaking. In its base form, sensemaking is the process of individuals in an organization incorporating all information about situations, events, emotions, or people and communicating that information in an open environment. It is also about avoiding assumptions, about team building, and about looking beyond the obvious, applying depth and meaning through organizational behavior. Sensemaking combines knowledge and information with human interaction and awareness of human needs, applying comprehensive meaning to the experience.
As I learned more about sensemaking, I realized the inherent value of the process and have decided to practice the theory at every opportunity. Reflecting on how to invoke sensemaking as a part of my leadership world, I began to read about examples of how using sensemaking can make a difference in organizations. Studying these situations brought me to the tragedy of the fire of 1949 at Mann Gulch Montana. Without going into detail, 13 brave firefighters lost their lives due to assumptions, poor information, poor organizational leadership, a lack of team building, and a lack of knowledge of science. Their decisions were based on intuition and self motivation rather than capturing all the information needed to survive. It is not insignificant that of the three people who survived, one used his knowledge of fires to make it work to his advantage, and the other two bonded together and used collective decision making to find a way out. While tragedy may have occurred in spite of utilizing sensemaking, it is likely more would have survived had they fully understood all the factors at play in the experience. Sadly, the event points to the need for organizations, leaders, and everyone to practice a high level of sensemaking in not only the dramatic events of our lives but also the day to day activities.
For anyone seeking to know more about sensemaking, there are several excellent articles on the subject that identify seven properties of sensemaking to apply in situations related to organizations or in leadership. But what does any of this have to do with folksongs? Learning more about the Mann Gulch tragedy and feeling engulfed in the powerful emotion of lives lost, I discovered a folk song about the event. Called the Mann Gulch Tribute, the song tells the story of the events of the fire and the people who fought bravely but lost to the power of nature (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LWLSbWhwTE0). It is sung with a folk type of accompaniment of guitar arpeggiated with varied and judicious uses of simple chords and appropriate harmony. The charm of the song is its simplicity that allows the story to come through in a balance of emotion and objective presentation.
Folk songs are cathartic expressions of honesty, allowing listeners to understand the pain without excessive sentimentality or unbridled musical anguish. Folk songs can be joyous, sad, bitter, satisfying, or simply narrative in presentation. They may or may not make a political statement and they may or may not teach a lesson in their texts. Mostly folk songs are music of the people, for the people, and by the people. As Louis Armstrong once quipped, "All music is folk music, I ain't never heard no horse sing a song." I recall my dad singing folksongs with his guitar and my mother harmonizing in the background. Those were good times and the memories have stayed with me forever.
I am not a luddite and I love our advanced world of technology with media at our fingertips, instant information whenever we want it, and communication of all types with anyone at anytime. But if I could move back time or bring something back to our culture or at least alter our lives in some sort of way, it would be to return to the idea of using folksongs to express the events of our lives. For some anachronistic joy, go to youtube (a wonderful new technology, by the way), and listen to some Peter, Paul, and Mary, or Bob Dylan, or Pete Seeger or perhaps some more modern fare such as John Denver, Paul Simon, Jim Croce, or Bruce Springsteen.
Or take a journey through the world by finding folksongs from various countries such as Ireland, Scotland, Wales, or France or Ukraine. Perhaps a few moments in the Far East to enjoy some music of the people or experience the worship practices of cultures from Africa. It is all grand and points to a world of authenticity of expression of the people. In a way and a bit of a stretch, folk music is the ideal way to understand organizational communication and the application of sensemaking. Folk music in its purest form attempts to give broad meaning to the joys and challenges of life by applying comprehensive knowledge blended with emotion and intuition. Maybe organizations and leadership could learn from the music of the people.
The author of the textbook referenced a man named Karl Weick which then led me to read more about sensemaking. In its base form, sensemaking is the process of individuals in an organization incorporating all information about situations, events, emotions, or people and communicating that information in an open environment. It is also about avoiding assumptions, about team building, and about looking beyond the obvious, applying depth and meaning through organizational behavior. Sensemaking combines knowledge and information with human interaction and awareness of human needs, applying comprehensive meaning to the experience.
As I learned more about sensemaking, I realized the inherent value of the process and have decided to practice the theory at every opportunity. Reflecting on how to invoke sensemaking as a part of my leadership world, I began to read about examples of how using sensemaking can make a difference in organizations. Studying these situations brought me to the tragedy of the fire of 1949 at Mann Gulch Montana. Without going into detail, 13 brave firefighters lost their lives due to assumptions, poor information, poor organizational leadership, a lack of team building, and a lack of knowledge of science. Their decisions were based on intuition and self motivation rather than capturing all the information needed to survive. It is not insignificant that of the three people who survived, one used his knowledge of fires to make it work to his advantage, and the other two bonded together and used collective decision making to find a way out. While tragedy may have occurred in spite of utilizing sensemaking, it is likely more would have survived had they fully understood all the factors at play in the experience. Sadly, the event points to the need for organizations, leaders, and everyone to practice a high level of sensemaking in not only the dramatic events of our lives but also the day to day activities.
For anyone seeking to know more about sensemaking, there are several excellent articles on the subject that identify seven properties of sensemaking to apply in situations related to organizations or in leadership. But what does any of this have to do with folksongs? Learning more about the Mann Gulch tragedy and feeling engulfed in the powerful emotion of lives lost, I discovered a folk song about the event. Called the Mann Gulch Tribute, the song tells the story of the events of the fire and the people who fought bravely but lost to the power of nature (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LWLSbWhwTE0). It is sung with a folk type of accompaniment of guitar arpeggiated with varied and judicious uses of simple chords and appropriate harmony. The charm of the song is its simplicity that allows the story to come through in a balance of emotion and objective presentation.
Folk songs are cathartic expressions of honesty, allowing listeners to understand the pain without excessive sentimentality or unbridled musical anguish. Folk songs can be joyous, sad, bitter, satisfying, or simply narrative in presentation. They may or may not make a political statement and they may or may not teach a lesson in their texts. Mostly folk songs are music of the people, for the people, and by the people. As Louis Armstrong once quipped, "All music is folk music, I ain't never heard no horse sing a song." I recall my dad singing folksongs with his guitar and my mother harmonizing in the background. Those were good times and the memories have stayed with me forever.
I am not a luddite and I love our advanced world of technology with media at our fingertips, instant information whenever we want it, and communication of all types with anyone at anytime. But if I could move back time or bring something back to our culture or at least alter our lives in some sort of way, it would be to return to the idea of using folksongs to express the events of our lives. For some anachronistic joy, go to youtube (a wonderful new technology, by the way), and listen to some Peter, Paul, and Mary, or Bob Dylan, or Pete Seeger or perhaps some more modern fare such as John Denver, Paul Simon, Jim Croce, or Bruce Springsteen.
Or take a journey through the world by finding folksongs from various countries such as Ireland, Scotland, Wales, or France or Ukraine. Perhaps a few moments in the Far East to enjoy some music of the people or experience the worship practices of cultures from Africa. It is all grand and points to a world of authenticity of expression of the people. In a way and a bit of a stretch, folk music is the ideal way to understand organizational communication and the application of sensemaking. Folk music in its purest form attempts to give broad meaning to the joys and challenges of life by applying comprehensive knowledge blended with emotion and intuition. Maybe organizations and leadership could learn from the music of the people.
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