Relay-Version: version B 2.10 5/3/83; site utzoo.UUCP Posting-Version: version B 2.10 5/3/83; site olivej.UUCP Path: utzoo!watmath!clyde!bonnie!akgua!mcnc!decvax!decwrl!sun!qubix!ios!oliveb!olivej!greg From: greg@olivej.UUCP (Greg Paley) Newsgroups: net.music.classical Subject: Re: Define: music, correct music, interesting music, program notes Message-ID: <254@olivej.UUCP> Date: Thu, 13-Dec-84 13:35:27 EST Article-I.D.: olivej.254 Posted: Thu Dec 13 13:35:27 1984 Date-Received: Tue, 18-Dec-84 03:17:10 EST Organization: Olivetti ATC, Cupertino, Ca Lines: 176 >> 1) Who makes "music" - the composer or the performer? I would say that music is the phenomenon which occurs in sound and time when performers produce sounds, according to the dictates of the composer. Therefore, in my mind, the score itself is not the music but merely the instruction book needed to "build" the music. In fact, there need be no score at all, so long as there is a means of communication between composer and performer, who can be the same person. 2) When a performer approaches a piece, should he try to reproduce exactly what he thinks the composer "intended" (what his mind's ear heard)? The only time that the performer can be absolutely sure he is realizing the composer's intentions is when he either is the composer or has the opportunity to work directly with the composer. In the situation where the composer's instructions are annotated in a score and there is a considerable time gap between composition and performance, I feel that the only way for a peformer to approach a work is to attempt to glean the basic expressive intent of the work from the score, and then use his own taste, experience, knowledge of the style of the particular period, and a bit of ESP (or, perhaps, instinct) to realize that intent. This means that it varies from case to case. In the case of Debussy, where the scores are very heavily annotated with strict and specific instructions, it means following those instructions as exactly as possible. In the case of Monteverdi, the score is a rough outline requiring a good deal to be added in performance. This is even true of later works of Haydn, Mozart, and some of Beethoven which, though far more "complete" in score, still leave clear indications that cadenzas are to be added where only a rest is indicated in the score. In this case, to merely observe the "letter" of the score (the rest itself) and proceed with no interpolation is to actually violate the composer's intentions. Even in the case where the score is heavily marked with tempo, timbre and dynamic instructions, an effective realization of the work requires the ability to inflect and enliven the rhythmic structure of the work as written, beyond what can be written down in a score. I strongly feel that the performer has to ultimately follow his own dictates and inner promptings, rather than trying to satisfy an external (i.e., critics). I do think it is possible to effectively communicate the basic expressive content of a work in sounds which are different from those the composer had in mind at the time of the composition. Therefore, it is not as inconsistent as it may seem on the surface when I say that I like Glenn Gould's performances of the Bach "Goldberg Variations" but am repelled by Stokowski's orchestral transcriptions of Bach works. In the case of Glenn Gould, I find that he maintains the essential character and expressiveness of the work, using the sonorities of the modern piano as a medium of this expression. In the case of the Stokowski transcriptions, the sonorities chosen, as well as the dynamic and tempo exaggerations used, introduce an inflated quality and sensuality that I find foreign to the original works. >> 3) There seem to be two kinds of audience members. Some are forgiving of >> technical errors in performance, and others are only moved when a piece >> is first technically perfect, and second interestingly interpreted. >> It seems to me that the former kind of member enjoys more performances. >> Is one approach more enlightened than another? To me, the important thing is the realization of the shape, structure and sound of the music. If there are passing errors in technique, but the "message" remains unimpaired, I will like the performance. If the technical errors are of such a magnitude that they impede the expression, I won't like the performance. Different people have different tolerance levels for flaws in the actual sound of an instrument or voice. If a violinist produces a strident, ear-lacerating tone I'm going to have trouble enjoying the performance no matter what rhythmic and emotional qualities might be there. The converse is also true. If a singer has a voice of extraordinary beauty but consistently distorts the shape of phrases and fails to articulate the text, I'll be shaking my head like the old lady mentioned, because the effect it has on me is real and physically painful. Generally, I find general errors in judgement such as an incorrect tempo or inability to properly shape phrases more objectionable than wrong or missed notes. Where the technical flaw really does harm is in case, as often happens in opera, where several pages of music build gradually to, say, a climactic point whose effect depends on a high B-flat. If the singer cracks the B-flat, the entire effect of the passage will be undone. I would make a comparison between performance and the publishing of poetry. A good performance is like a good edition of a poetry collection, where the words are correctly spelled, the punctuation is according to the poet's choice, the print is clear and readable and the indentation and separation of paragraphs are done as the poet wanted. A poor performance has the same effect as when one tries to read a poem in an edition where the print is unclear or blurred, and the spelling and punctuation are haphazard, sometimes giving a completely false impression of the original writing. In any case, the argument for live vs. recording is not merely one of mistakes vs. technical "perfection". The fact remains that, even if one were to purchase the state of the art in current audio equipment, there is an impact to the sheer sonority of a live performance that no recording can capture. Anyone who heard Birgit Nilsson in her prime let fly on the two high C's in the 2nd act of "Tristan und Isolde" knows that her recordings of the work, even on the best of modern equipment, are pallid ghosts compared with the "live" performance. Likewise, a San Francisco concert in the early 70's, with the Chicago Symphony performing the Mahler 5th under Solti displayed a power and depth of sound that their London recording, excellent as it is, just hints at. There is also the situation, exemplified by many of even the finest performers around, who are simply unable to give of their best without the presence of an audience. The fact that their recordings do not have wrong notes does not compensate for the fact that these recordings specifically fail to reproduce the intensity, enlivening, and excitement that is an essential part of the performer's musical persona. >> 4) Program notes. Which kind do you prefer: Frankly, I almost never read program notes before I listen to a work. Likewise, I prefer not to read the "introduction" until after I've read a literary work. It isn't that I never need a guide to point out things I might otherwise miss, but rather that I find that the dangers of adopting someone else's preconceptions of a work, knowledgeable as they may be, are too great. There are cases where the events in a composer's life had a direct correlation with his music, but there are as many cases where there is a distinct break between the composer's artistic and personal lives. In these cases, a knowledge of the events surrounding the composition of a work can lead to reading into it things that aren't there, and can cloud perception of what is really there. Artists, like most people, have thoughts, feelings, and internal struggles or joys that they never write in a diary and never express verbally to anyone else, but which may find an outlet in their art. There are also many artists who specifically shy away from an attempt to put into words the art that they exercise by instinct who, when pressed for a description of their artistic process by press or friends, provide a facile response which suits what the others want to hear rather than providing an honest insight into those processes which, in many cases, they are incapable of verbalizing articulately anyway. Therefore, if we read something about how Mozart composed we are really reading either (1) Something he wrote in a diary (2) Something he told someone else (3) Someone else's supposition any of which may, or may not, actually be true. - Greg Paley