Truth about – and in – music…
“In nothing, no profession, no occupation in the world – except psychiatry– are there so many prigs and humbugs and intellectual scalliwags as there are in the unfortunate industry, craft and art of music. The whole arena is littered with these dreadful asses.”
Thomas Beecham
I like to flatter myself that I have fairly definite, and independent, views on music. But if I listen to myself talk – and, unless I’m careful, play – I realise that I’m in constant danger of parroting other people’s opinions; and those too are very likely to have come secondhand from yet other people. As in any branch of the arts, rumour and received opinion are a strong force, which it is hard to withstand. For instance, I sometimes find myself talking about players, in either a positive or negative fashion; and then realise, if I think about it, that I’ve never actually heard them play – I’m just relying on what I’ve heard. (Of course, there are those whose opinions I trust, and with which I’m likely to concur if I do hear that player; but still – better to decide for oneself.) And about the music itself: so many clichés get repeated so often that in the end they are generally believed. Schumann’s orchestration, to take one example: it is so often said, almost as a point of faith, that he didn’t know how to orchestrate. But if I listen to his music, I certainly can’t hear a problem; and whenever I’ve asked someone what it is they don’t like about his orchestration, the answer is usually something along the lines of: ‘Well…you know…it’s just…just weak. Everybody knows that.’ Not very convincing, really – or impressive. So it is worth having an inner spell-check-like censor constantly at work when one talks about music: do I really think that, or am I just saying it?
And the same with the way one interprets it. Recordings in particular are surprisingly contaminating; even if one doesn’t like a performance one hears, elements like tempo changes, rubato, glissandi, vibrato, etc can creep into one’s own playing unnoticed. One has to be on permanent guard to make sure that one is playing/singing/conducting with one’s own voice. Again, the inner check is essential: ‘Do I really mean that? Or am I doing it because everybody else does it?’ Ultimately, I think that it is the finding of one’s own voice that makes a composer or interpreter valuable; and this unceasing self-questioning is an essential element of the path to finding that voice.
And here endeth the mini-rant for the day.
