What is it?

[North Star]

And I totally agree with you on that. But once we know to whom a piece of music matters, that person should--according to your previous post--be silent about the stuff he does not like. And in my opinion, that muddles the discussion. Rather, if we are allowed to discuss things we don't like, it may clarify why we like the things we do like (which, I assume, was the aim of this thread from the start).

No. I wrote that they can be silent about them.

[Linus]

No. I wrote that they can be silent about them.

I assumed the 'can' to be an implied 'should', i.e. an endorsement of a certain behaviour. Isn't it?

[North Star]

I assumed the 'can' to be an implied 'should', i.e. an endorsement of a certain behaviour. Isn't it?

No; even though I might well endorse that behaviour, I meant that a person ought to be able to speak of art they value without first dismissing art they don't value as highly.

[NJ Joe]

I disagree. It's more of an

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VMLnoe957Ls

Well, I for one, think it's more of an

[Mirror Image]

What could it be? That's the million dollar question.

[Karl Henning]

Well, and discussing why one may not like this or that is one thing.  Dismissing it as something which does not matter, is another.

And that, of course, is the obvious corollary to the apparently aboveboard appeal, Am I the only one here who thinks that some art matters?

[North Star]

Over the line!

[Karl Henning]

Mark it, dude.

[jochanaan]

To say that something doesn't matter to us takes it out of the realm of universal judgment--a point that many forget.  But many folks, on reading or hearing "It doesn't matter to me," simply do not perceive the last two words...

[Jubal Slate]

Mind makes it matter. Or not matter.

[jochanaan]

Mind makes it matter. Or not matter.

Whose mind?

[Jubal Slate]

Whose mind?

Exactly.

[Karl Henning]

It's a good thing . . . wait, I almost remember what is a good thing . . . .

[North Star]

Mark it, dude.

Mind makes it matter. Or not matter.

Mark it Twain.

[Monsieur Croche]

...I doubt that there can be art that simply does not matter.

I could not more vehemently agree.

With all respect, I do hope the following unsolicited broadening of the topic is nonetheless very much to the same point.

Consider that other than the most primal of nature about us, absolutely everything we have, from the most utilitarian to the most impractical was designed by someone generally considered as an artist.

Our clothes and the buttons on them, were designed by artists who considered both the utility and aesthetic of that clothing. This is equally true of everything in your home, from the fabric of the shelter you sit in to its finished interior, walls, flooring, windows, window coverings, your bed and bedding, every vessel, eating and cooking utensil and appliance in the kitchen, the lighting, the color on the walls [even if 'just white,' there are a myriad of shades of white that someone designed, fabricated, and another made a conscious choice of color, and applied it to the walls], and on and on and on.

Then there are the 'non-utilitarian' objects, prints or paintings on the walls, the fact of choice in the upholstery on the furniture, your CD player, the CD's, their packaging with whatever graphics are part of that. Step outside. Unless you are in the true state of a raw and natural environment, there are planned and planted yards, streetlamps, manhole covers -- all designed by someone whose profession is artful design.

When it comes to the more non-utilitarian, an artwork, a novel, a piece of music ~ those things mattered enough to the maker, at least, for them to take the time to acquire the necessary skills, be able to make or obtain the materials, and then make something where before there was nothing. Art matters, then, at least to the person who made the artwork.

A secondary litmus test follows: do those made things then have something about them where at least one other person finds them of: interest / virtue / value?'

People figured out how to make a bit of music; how to make a sinew thread, drill a hole in a shell or pebble and wear it as ornament; paint images on cave walls -- all long before they had figured out how to adequately house and clothe themselves beyond the most rudimentary.

Only people make and consume art. It occurs nowhere in nature. I think it safe to say that art is an innate proclivity, or appetite, of the species. It has attributes enough that people deem it valuable, and assign worth to it [value and worth being two very different critters.]

Whatever it means, it certainly has meant something to mankind for a very, very long time.

[kishnevi]

I could not more vehemently agree.

With all respect, I do hope the following unsolicited broadening of the topic is nonetheless very much to the same point.

Consider that other than the most primal of nature about us, absolutely everything we have, from the most utilitarian to the most impractical was designed by someone generally considered as an artist.

Our clothes and the buttons on them, were designed by artists who considered both the utility and aesthetic of that clothing. This is equally true of everything in your home, from the fabric of the shelter you sit in to its finished interior, walls, flooring, windows, window coverings, your bed and bedding, every vessel, eating and cooking utensil and appliance in the kitchen, the lighting, the color on the walls [even if 'just white,' there are a myriad of shades of white that someone designed, fabricated, and another made a conscious choice of color, and applied it to the walls], and on and on and on.

Then there are the 'non-utilitarian' objects, prints or paintings on the walls, the fact of choice in the upholstery on the furniture, your CD player, the CD's, their packaging with whatever graphics are part of that. Step outside. Unless you are in the true state of a raw and natural environment, there are planned and planted yards, streetlamps, manhole covers -- all designed by someone whose profession is artful design.

When it comes to the more non-utilitarian, an artwork, a novel, a piece of music ~ those things mattered enough to the maker, at least, for them to take the time to acquire the necessary skills, be able to make or obtain the materials, and then make something where before there was nothing. Art matters, then, at least to the person who made the artwork.

A secondary litmus test follows: do those made things then have something about them where at least one other person finds them of: interest / virtue / value?'

People figured out how to make a bit of music; how to make a sinew thread, drill a hole in a shell or pebble and wear it as ornament; paint images on cave walls -- all long before they had figured out how to adequately house and clothe themselves beyond the most rudimentary.

Only people make and consume art. It occurs nowhere in nature. I think it safe to say that art is an innate proclivity, or appetite, of the species. It has attributes enough that people deem it valuable, and assign worth to it [value and worth being two very different critters.]

Whatever it means, it certainly has meant something to mankind for a very, very long time.

All true, but are you not in essence defining art as anything produced by humans.  Artificial does not mean artistic.  The word artisanal might more properly cover what you mean.

I would submit that a further element is needed to define art, such as being designed/produced with an aesthetic or at least nonutilitarian value in mind.

[Monsieur Croche]

All true, but are you not in essence defining art as anything produced by humans.  Artificial does not mean artistic.  The word artisanal might more properly cover what you mean.

I would submit that a further element is needed to define art, such as being designed/produced with an aesthetic or at least nonutilitarian value in mind.

You must have missed the quote from KarlHenning's post to which my entire response was addressed:

"...I doubt that there can be art that simply does not matter."

Alrighty then.

That said, I'm old school and a bit reactionary these days when it comes to the word "Artist," i.e. those are people with easels, pigments, computers, etc. who make IMAGE. Everyone else in the arts plies a craft.

"Artist" has become in common general usage so deeply corrupted [imo] to the point where anyone who does anything remotely 'artsy', whether there is any real discipline in the craft or inherent merit to what they've made, is routinely called, or routinely call themselves, "an artist."

I find the Artist/Artisan quibble mildly pedantic, and 'to go there,'
every artist is to a great degree an artisan, while I suppose it could be said that not every artisan is an artist.

Among the laity, in the United States, anyway, I believe the word artist has now become married -- to the degree of being joined at the hip -- to a sole association with worth [i.e. dollar sign, with no divorce in sight anytime soon], as well as that notion of worth being very much attached to those shallow bitch goddesses of "Fame," and "Popularity." Where the fine arts are concerned, my personal preference is to dwell more completely on the more abstract meaning of value.

Paraphrasing Confucius, "If you want to change the society, you must alter the language." [He meant the import of a word's meaning as used, of course.]

To be a bit brutal, there are some recently manufactured street lamp posts in my town which have ornamental brackets and a nicely proportioned knop on the actual light housing, none of which is at all structurally necessary: these utilitarian objects have more aesthetic depth and integrity invested in them than many a midi-marvel musical 'composition' of which there are legions readily found on youtube and in the composer's sections of many classical music fora.

Due to this state of affairs, i.e. a utilitarian city lamp post having a deeper and evident aesthetic than many products which are currently thought of by both creator and the public as "Art."

It is because of this now corrupted and endemic usage of the word artist and what it now tends to import that I think many autodidact composers, composers and performers in training and those starting their careers in the arts would be far better off thinking of themselves as responsible Artisans vs. dwelling upon the meaning of their identity of being "An Artist." But that very well may just be me who thinks it.

[Elgarian]

That said, I'm old school and a bit reactionary these days when it comes to the word "Artist," i.e. those are people with easels, pigments, computers, etc. who make IMAGE. Everyone else in the arts plies a craft.

I feel uneasy about accepting this as a definition - and in any case, we can't agree on what an artist is until we agree on what 'art' is. But to make a start: the most helpful description of the difference I've encountered is this: that the artist doesn't know at the outset where his work will take him; the craftsman does. There is of course no sharp distinction between the two, and they can be mixed in different proportions. It's obvious from Elgar's letters etc that he regarded orchestrating his works as pretty much mere craftsmanship. Most of the art was done out on his bike (or walking, or sitting, etc), though I presume he also had moments of artisitc inspiration while actually crafting together the orchestration.

One consequence of this is that we can actually think about the differences in the way we respond, because where art is capable of changing our perceptions, craftsmanship (as defined above) is not. In so far as it does, it's art. Duchamp's 'Fountain' changed our perceptions of what art could be and do - but any craftsmanship we admire in it has nothing to do with Duchamp. Does it matter? It matters a lot to the person whose perception has been changed by it. It matters not at all (except possibly to irritate) to the person who merely sees it as a tipped-over urinal.

So there can't be an absolute answer to the original question, I think. Neither is there some sort of overall averaging that we can do. There's just the observer/listener/receiver of the work on the one hand, and the work on the other, and all the 'mattering' lies in the interaction between the two. So that's my answer to the question. What makes music matter is determined by the type of interaction beteen the listener and the work, and each listener (including the composer) will make his or her own decision about whether it does.

[Karl Henning]

I feel uneasy about accepting this as a definition - and in any case, we can't agree on what an artist is until we agree on what 'art' is. But to make a start: the most helpful description of the difference I've encountered is this: that the artist doesn't know at the outset where his work will take him; the craftsman does. There is of course no sharp distinction between the two, and they can be mixed in different proportions.

Yes!  [At the risk of seeming to make the discussion "about me,"] the recent pieces of my own which I have found most enriching to myself, are those where I started writing an idea, and had no particular notion where I should take it:  setting out on Discovery.

So there can't be an absolute answer to the original question, I think. Neither is there some sort of overall averaging that we can do. There's just the observer/listener/receiver of the work on the one hand, and the work on the other, and all the 'mattering' lies in the interaction between the two. So that's my answer to the question. What makes music matter is determined by the type of interaction between the listener and the work, and each listener (including the composer) will make his or her own decision about whether it does.

Yes, again.

[Elgarian]

Only people make and consume art. It occurs nowhere in nature.

This makes me think (as I often do - it doesn't take much of a trigger) of the philosophy of Alfred North Whitehead. He points out that our thoughts and activities aren't separate to nature, but are nature themselves. From that point of view, the art we make is 'nature expressing itself'; and that puts a different perspective on the question of what it is about music that matters. As Whitehead would put it, the art we make is part of the creative advance of the universe.