GMG Classical Music Forum

Okay, obviously the first movement of the 6th symphony is about the struggle of life versus death (the two themes, life and death, battle for dominance throughout), and in the last movement, life falls and death wins.  What, however, is the message of the inner movements?  Movement two is a rondo waltz in 5/4 time while the third movement is an energetic scherzo/march.  Tchaikovsky has a message here, does anyone know what it might be?

The third movement seems to be ironic, or if taken literaly, setting someone up for a fall. But even with Tchaikovsky's heart on sleeve style it comes across as forced and bordering on maniacal, when makes the last movement more logical than if it was a standard "happy" scherzo. Not sure about the second movement, though.

The Fourth and Fifth Symphonies actually have (in the first three movements) a broadly - broadly similar plan: first-movement struggle, second-movement calm and respite, third movement exuberance. I believe Tchaikovsky's comments on the other two symphonies' inner movements involved things like:

[II] looking at the world around you, taking solace, light, a beam of hope ("a beacon of hope? - no, no, there is no hope" he wrote somewhere in the Fourth, but I forget where, when a pleasant moment was rudely interrupted)
[III] finding joy in people around you, flickering images, visions, or perhaps a dizzying dream

I know that the Sixth's structure shouldn't be compared with the other two at all, but there might be some insight to be gleaned from the comparison. I have always felt, personally, that the first movement of the Sixth is kind of like an overture for the final three. It sets up the titanic struggle between light/life and dark/death, and plays it out to the hilt; my personal interpretation of what follows is that the next two movements are different aspects of "life" - perhaps hope, comfort, sorrow (2nd mvt trio), and then joy, energy, triumph - to be immediately rebutted by the triumph of death and darkness. A bleak vision to which the quote from the Fourth applies - the beautifully lyrical climax of first movement's second subject, the gracefully dancing second movement- is there hope? May we hope? Dare we even become confident, joyful, revel in the glory of life? Alas: "no, no, there is no hope."

At least, that's my two cents. :)

I've been recently going through a phase of intense fascination with Tchaikovsky's music. I  wonder what could be the best choice for his 6th. To my mind it seems one of the pieces where the opening is crucial and can be played in a number of ways. I guess having a solo instrument is also a nice opportunity to consider the whole experience from the point of view of successful capture and space accoustics. Do you happen to have multiple recordings of Tchaik's 6th? Or maybe one very confident choice? I kindly await your thoughts on that.

I have a number of Pathetiques but only go back to a few.

Fricsay - either of his recordings are excellent; BPO or BRSO. In fact you should also get his recordings of the 4th and 5th as well.

If you want one in modern stereo sound then Pletnev and the RNSO is hard to beat.

Quote from: hornteacher on May 28, 2008, 05:55:30 PM
Okay, obviously the first movement of the 6th symphony is about the struggle of life versus death (the two themes, life and death, battle for dominance throughout), and in the last movement, life falls and death wins.  What, however, is the message of the inner movements?  Movement two is a rondo waltz in 5/4 time while the third movement is an energetic scherzo/march.  Tchaikovsky has a message here, does anyone know what it might be?

One message is that since depression and despair occasionally dominate us, any melancholy attempts at optimism (2nd movement) or at a masking triumphalism (3rd movement) will not succeed.

Eduard Hanslick in his review of the work disliked the wild "Cossack" movement, and found it did not fit the work, believing it to be a statement of nationalism.  He also disliked the 5/4 meter of the second movement, calling it "disagreeable" and suggesting that it could be easily changed to something more reasonable.

Both comments support the view of the middle movements being "pathetic" attempts at chasing away the gloom of the first movement, and the doom of the final one.

I'm going to second Fricsay's recordings in Tchaikovsky.  Powerful stuff.

I recently listened to Mravinsky's recording of the Pathethique, and I was really struck by the March.    It is absolutely electric and conveys a kind of desperate, frenetic madness.       For me, this is the key to this particular movement.     It is akin to a fever, or a plunge into frantic, almost uncontrolled activity so as to avoid the impending threat of oblivion.    It borders right on the edge of insanity ..... no triumph, no pomp ....  just a galloping delerium.     This may be particular to Mravinsky's recording, but it never fails to send a tingle down my spine every time I hear it.    And I think that the reason is the combination(and contrast) of hysteria and absolute musical control and discipline, which is emphasized by the rigid structure of a fast march (as opposed to a free scherzo).

There is also the obvious musical and emotional technique of setting up an extreme contrast and resulting shock-wave between the last two movements.   

I see the second movement more as pure nostalgia .... a memory of past happy and more carefree times.     A faded photograph .....

As you can imagine, I strongly recommend Maravinky's legendary recordings of 4,5 and 6.    They are quite an experience ....

Quote from: Cato on November 23, 2009, 06:19:37 PM
One message is that since depression and despair occasionally dominate us, any melancholy attempts at optimism (2nd movement) or at a masking triumphalism (3rd movement) will not succeed.

The 2nd movement is obviously a waltz, yet there are undercurrents of sadness and melancholy. Picture yourself dancing with your lover yet knowing that tomorrow they are leaving and will never return......you are happy for the moment but you know saddness is just around the corner, a brilliant emotional tug of war.

The 3rd movement is the desperate emotional final stand, a full assault to prevent impending doom. There are times when peace/happiness seems with in reach and you desperately fight to attain it, perhaps all will be resolved in your favor after all.........

The crushing 4th movement is recognition that you have  emotionally lost and there is no hope to attain happiness in this life, there is no more fight to be fought, nothing can be changed only surrender to the sad darkness and emotional despair.....

You are all so emotional?.

Obviously the third mvt is a joke to trick the audience into a 'Great! Now let's get our coats!' applause.

I prefer the work without programme. :-\

So, about the third movement: dunno what Tchaikovsky meant, but I do know I always lose a lot of errr .... sweat.
In other words: it helps me to stay fit.

I'm with Marc on this one. As I was reading through the posts, one question begged to be asked, "This IS music we're talking about here, isn't it?"

That is, Tchaikovsky's sixth symphony is a piece of music, not a philosophical tract, not a diary, not a drama starring life (played by the lively Denzel Washington) and death (starring the deadly Jack Nicholson). The way to get whatever there is of "message" in the symphony is to play the dam' thing. What does it mean? E, F#, G, F#; F#, G, A, G; G, A, B, A#,* B, and so forth.

Sure, we can attach all sorts of extramusical meanings to it, but are any of them the meaning? No. The meaning is the notes themselves and their various combinations and permutations in various dynamics with various instruments. If you want meaning in the sense that language can give you, then read a book!

*A# instead of A. Surely that's one way music "means." And the whole pattern, raised a step with each repetition. That's a musical meaning.

If the music is supposed to mean something, shouldn't we be asking Tchaikovsky himself about that?

QuoteThat is, Tchaikovsky's sixth symphony is a piece of music, not a philosophical tract, not a diary, not a drama starring life (played by the lively Denzel Washington) and death (starring the deadly Jack Nicholson). The way to get whatever there is of "message" in the symphony is to play the dam' thing. What does it mean? E, F#, G, F#; F#, G, A, G; G, A, B, A#,* B, and so forth.

Sure, we can attach all sorts of extramusical meanings to it, but are any of them the meaning? No. The meaning is the notes themselves and their various combinations and permutations in various dynamics with various instruments. If you want meaning in the sense that language can give you, then read a book!

Quote from: Greg on November 26, 2009, 07:47:34 PM
If the music is supposed to mean something, shouldn't we be asking Tchaikovsky himself about that?

There is a specific program Tchaikovsky had in mind when composing 6th, and he famously said when asked about it "let them guess" so he never intended to reveal the subject matter to public........but in retrospect knowing his deep emotional turmoil and the fact he died very shortly after completing the work you can make some guesses, makes sense to me.......why shouldn't music reflect ones current emotional state and view on life, it is not a mechanical science devoid of emotion

So knowing the context under which the 6th was composed adds great insight and value to the listeners experience

Composers often have all sorts of things in mind when they write things, but in the end only the music matters, which is what I would derive from the Tchaikovsky anecdote. People often ask composers what their music means, too, which probably gets just a trifle irritating. I can guess, too, and I would guess that Tchaikovsky was probably just fed up being asked that question. Listen to the music, it's all there!

As for music being a mechanical science devoid of emotion without guesses about the composer's emotional state when he or she was writing a piece, whew! What a strange way to think about music, eh? And what a severely limiting way to consider the relationship between composer and composition.

What about pieces where we can guess* nothing about the composer's emotional state, which must surely be the majority of pieces we listen to? What then? Are those pieces somehow less musical, less engaging, less interesting? Guessing the context under which the 6th was written* distracts us from actually engaging with the music itself would be my guess!!

*It can only be a guess. It's not knowledge.

Quote from: some guy on November 27, 2009, 09:04:30 AM
Composers often have all sorts of things in mind when they write things, but in the end only the music matters

I agree with this (YAY! I agree with 'some guy'on something)  :)

What IS fascinating is how 'we' (I mean us collectively) seem to be more drawn to music that has a 'program', per se or moniker attached to 'X' sonata or symphony.

An good example is Bruckner's 4th symphony.  Not his best symphony, by any stretch of the imagination.  Yet, it is highly popular and one of the most recorded, and most programmed in concert venues.  It's also the only one of his symphonies with an attached moniker, 'Romantic'.

I think that restricting yourself to the purely musical aspect of Romantic music (and other eras too) will result in missing a lot.     This sort of music generally has a high level of emotional content too.

I agree that there is no absolute right and wrong when discussing and comparing your own emotional reaction, but it's fun and sometimes very illuminating.    Sometimes the composer will also shed some light .... for example Sibelius' journal is quite fascinating for the insights into the 5th symphony,  Neilsen's account of the origin of the 2nd symphony ..... etc.

Quote from: DarkAngel on November 27, 2009, 05:16:17 AM
knowing his deep emotional turmoil and the fact he died very shortly after completing the work you can make some guesses, makes sense to me.......why shouldn't music reflect ones current emotional state and view on life, it is not a mechanical science devoid of emotion

There are a lot of myths about Tchaikovsky's 'emotional turmoil'. Few people on the other hand emphasize he was one of the ultimate professional composers, hugely productive and a complete master of the forms he preferred to employ. Sure, the 6th symphony, is intended to have a very dark impact on the listener, but that doesn't necessarily mean Tchaikovsky wanted to say "I feel gloomy."

Brahmsian and I agreeing? Cool!! 8)

Quote from: alkan on November 27, 2009, 09:21:57 AM
...restricting yourself...

That is exactly what it is not.

I have not so far said anything about emotions one way or another. We are humans. We have emotions.

What I have been saying is that there's a lot in the music that we'll miss if we're constantly haring off after non-musical things. Or if we're constantly substituting non-musical content for musical content.

I think that this may be the thing, or one of the things, behind the unwillingness or inability of many listeners to come to grips with even music of a hundred years ago. I went to a concert recently that included Schoenberg's 3rd string quartet. After it was played, I overheard someone saying that Schoenberg's music is really only good for being studied, not for being listened to. Wow! What could that person have possibly heard that evening? I heard a very charming and delightful work, with very easy-to-hear motifs and developments. Very pleasant experience overall. How could that person have heard something so radically different had he not swallowed whole the idea (external to the actual music) that Schoenberg is difficult, intellectual, abstract, mathematical, or some such thing?

Remember (if you're old enough, or if you read) when Shostakovich's music was the expression of Soviet ideology? And then, when that idea lost favor, when Shostakovich's music was an ironic commentary on Soviet ideology? Hmmm. But the notes are the same. What are the notes like? What is it like to listen to Shostakovich's music itself, without all the "ideas"? (Is it even possible?)

Sure, composers have said a lot of things about their pieces (to address one of Greg's points), but that's just because if you're going to talk (converse) about anything, you have to use words. A lot of composers have also said, over and over again, "listen to the music."

Quote from: DarkAngel on November 27, 2009, 05:16:17 AM
So knowing the context under which the 6th was composed adds great insight and value to the listeners experience

But he was also in a very depressing mental state when he composed The Nutcracker. And also ....

Let's be fair. The man was a hypochondriac. It sometimes seems that not feeling unhappy made him even more unhappy. :P

Reading biographical stories about Tchaikovsky nearly always make me feel sorry for him. But he's composed some lovely and intense music, no doubt. To me, his Sixth is still The Symphony. But, whilst listening, I must admit I never think of the composer or his death shortly after. I bury myself ;) in the music and after the Finale I need a drink to arise again. 0:)

 Alkan, though, is exactly right that Romantic composers (even Brahms!!!) probably usually had something in mind when composing.  It wasn't until Stravinsky that composers began to insist that their music was "a thing, not to be interpreted."

The trouble usually comes when you try to reduce the something to words, or even to a word. :-\

Quote from: jochanaan on November 29, 2009, 06:30:50 PM
Alkan, though, is exactly right that Romantic composers (even Brahms!!!) probably usually had something in mind when composing.  It wasn't until Stravinsky that composers began to insist that their music was "a thing, not to be interpreted."

The trouble usually comes when you try to reduce the something to words, or even to a word. :-\

When Stravinsky made that remark, he was in one sense offering an interpretation! (even if he was just trying to separate himself from the earlier generation).   0:)

So what do the sounds "mean" after all?  Do they really mean only themselves?  And what therefore about the innate human tendency to find, to desire, to demand meaning?  $:)   

Is there any human who, regardless of culture, would hear giddy happiness in the last movement of the Sixth Symphony?  (I suppose it is possible, but I would wonder about the person's affect.)

The sounds of music are extensions of Nature, simulations which humans can control and organize, somewhat like being able to orchestrate the forest at sunrise, for the purpose of...what?  Expressing a forest at sunrise?  Expressing the inner joy of a secret thought?

Expressing expression?

Quote from: Cato on November 30, 2009, 01:27:55 PMSo what do the sounds "mean" after all?  Do they really mean only themselves?  And what therefore about the innate human tendency to find, to desire, to demand meaning?

We should probably not get into a discussion about the meaning of meaning. That's like entering a labyrinth that cannot be exited.

But about "only," I do think we can say that sounds really do only mean themselves. But it's also true that for some listeners, perhaps most, sounds aren't good enough. They have to be turned into emotions or into narratives or into images. Seems to me music is good enough all on its own. But then I think that pigments are good enough all on their own, too, so what do I know?

Quote from: some guy on November 30, 2009, 07:26:45 PM
But about "only," I do think we can say that sounds really do only mean themselves. But it's also true that for some listeners, perhaps most, sounds aren't good enough. They have to be turned into emotions or into narratives or into images.

Interesting discussion .... but I think it is an oversimplification to say "sounds really do only mean themselves".    I would say that, strange as it may seem, there is a link between sounds and human emotions.    Take musical scales for example.    Classical composers such as Haydn and Mozart deliberately (subconsciously?) used different keys when they wanted to write different sorts of music .... the extremes are probably G minor for "angry" or "dark" symphonies, and C major for "bright" and "happy" symphonies.       There is something in the combination of tones that is really suited to the emotion that the composer wants to convey.     I guess that it might be possible to write a "happy" G minor symphony (anyone know an example?), but it's probably a lot harder than using C major or E flat major .....

Given the possibility that a even simple diatonic scale can convey some sort of feeling, it's not difficult to imagine that when the genius of a great composer gets to work it is possible to stimulate all sorts of emotions in a sensitive listener.     Now it starts to get complicated because different people react differently  (viz Someguy's story about Schoenbergs 3rd SQ).    I respect that, but what really interests me is to try to understand what the composer himself was feeling and what he was trying to convey.    OK, I'm not looking for an absolute truth .... just a better understanding and new insights.        I launched a thread a few months ago on the theme of "what on earth was Sibelius thinking of when he wrote the ending to his 5th symphony ?" ..... I have always found it puzzling and frustrating, but I got a lot of interesting alternative ways to look at the terminating chord-bursts.

Finally, and just to rejoin Someguy a little, I do believe that it is possible to listen to the same piece of music different ways and get different experiences.      You can listen "analytically", usually with a score, and try to decrypt the structure, the details, and see how various effects are created.   You can also listen "emotionally" and just try to pump the music for every last ounce of excitement, sadness, beauty, majesty, etc.     You can also listen to music and just be amazed by the virtuosity or the performer(s), even if you don't care all that much for the music itself.        Just chosing only one of these possibilities implies that you are missing out on the other facets ....

Quote from: alkan on December 01, 2009, 06:41:00 AM
Interesting discussion

Agreed!

Quote from: alkan on December 01, 2009, 06:41:00 AM.... but I think it is an oversimplification to say "sounds really do only mean themselves".

Well, be fair, I did qualify that immediately with the "But it's also true..." remark.   

Quote from: alkan on December 01, 2009, 06:41:00 AMI would say that, strange as it may seem, there is a link between sounds and human emotions.

True, but doesn't go far enough. There are links between everything and human emotions. Or, to put it another way, humans have emotions and anything in the world (including, or perhaps especially, the made up things) can trigger them. That's abundantly clear.

I guess my only desire here was to get beyond that. OK, we're humans. We have emotions. Now what? (I ran a poetry workshop for a number of years. People were pretty consistently concerned about the emotional content of their poems. I was concerned with the way they put words together. It seemed the most difficult thing to get across: We are humans; we have emotions. Now let's learn how to write poetry.)

The way this discussion is going reminds me of the theory of Quantum Physics !!          Simply stated this says that sub-atomic particles will always appear "fuzzy" because the very act of observing them (via light particles) jolts them around.         So, a quantum theory of music would say that musical tones are never absolute and precise, but are always affected by the emotions involved in the act of listening to music !!

Back to your reply.    We can probably say that any act of artistic creation  (music, poetry, sculpture, painting, etc) is a mixture of technical competence and emotional alchemy.      Going too far towards either extreme is generally unsatisfying .... pure technical competance appears "dry" and unstructured emotionalism appears "chaotic".     I think your poetry class example illustrates this very well.     I was aiming at the same thing in my "listening to music in different ways" example.

Well, we have wandered away from the original subject.     What was going through Tchaikovsky's mind when he wrote the waltz and march movements in his 6th symphony ??   

Quote from: alkan on December 02, 2009, 12:55:01 AM
Well, we have wandered away from the original subject. What was going through Tchaikovsky's mind when he wrote the waltz and march movements in his 6th symphony??

Hoping that it would please both the music lovers and connaisseurs, I guess.
The same hope which Mozart wrote about to his father. And Tchaikovsky was a great admirer of Mozart, so ....  ;D

Quote from: some guy on December 01, 2009, 09:37:31 AM
(I ran a poetry workshop for a number of years. People were pretty consistently concerned about the emotional content of their poems. I was concerned with the way they put words together. It seemed the most difficult thing to get across: We are humans; we have emotions. Now let's learn how to write poetry.)

But there's a difference between the making of art and the experiencing of it as an observer who tries to engage with it. Sandra Blow used to talk about how, when she began trying to paint abstract works, she couldn't understand how to 'get the feeling' into them. She gradually realised that if she simply concentrated on getting the architecture of the picture right, the 'feeling' would look after itself. This sounds very like your approach to the writing of poetry.

But when we come to look at a picture, or read a poem, or listen to music, we expect more than merely to experience an 'interesting' structure. At least, I do. Even when we look at the work of such an austerely abstract painter as Patrick Heron, who insisted that the exploration of colour was the meaning of his pictures, we don't experience that exploration as a purely intellectual exercise. We hear the colours 'sing' - or some equivalent feeling is transmitted - and that seems to be what we value. Something comes through the appreciation of structure; it's that 'something' that I'm after.

 Is classical music an abstract thing ?  Yes and no.  A work may not have a specific program, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't have expressive character. 
And some music is specifically programmatic , and yes, music can
describe extra-musical. When you hear the episonde called "Thunderstorm "in the Alpine Symphony of Richard Strauss, it sure as heck sounds like
one heck of a storm.
  And even Stravinsky, who famously declared that "music is incapable of expression" , sometimes contradicted himself, as in his highly descriptive
early ballets The Firebird, Petrushka and the Rite of Spring.
  In Petrushka, one passage is meant to depict a dancing bear at a
Shrovetide festival; a solo baritone horn plays, and by golly,it sounds like a dancing bear.
  Yes, Tchaikovsky  gave the specific title "Pathetique" to his last symphony, after his brother Modest came up with the idea.Pathetique does not mean "pathetic" as in English; it means full of deeply felt emotion.
  The two inner movement provide a respite from the anguish of the outer ones,and make that anguish all the greater.

  Music doesn'r exist in a vacuum. You can't divorce it completely
from the extra-musical.

What T really meant with this Symphony will always be a riddle, and I like it that way. He had in many ways a tragic life, and no doubt that emerges forcefully in his music. If this is touching you, or you recognize it in yourself, so much the better, so whatever you feel is the message.

Quote from: Superhorn on December 02, 2009, 01:07:47 PM...some music is specifically programmatic , and yes, music can describe extra-musical. When you hear the episonde called "Thunderstorm "in the Alpine Symphony of Richard Strauss, it sure as heck sounds like one heck of a storm.

This is not quite the same thing as "meaning," though, is it? (Sorry, I guess we DO have to go into the labyrinth with no exit.) You might as well ask here what a storm means? (And an actual storm means ever so much more, and so many different things, than Strauss's storm.) Besides, an actual storm does itself include many sonic events. And music is a thing made up of sonic events. So where they meet, you can create a musical episode that can very easily recall an actual storm to our minds, even if some of the visuals have to be translated into flute scales--not all ascending flute scales "sound" like lightning, and no lightning flashes ever sound like flutes!! Indeed, there's quite a lot of music in that storm episode that nor you nor anyone else has ever heard in an actual storm.

Music can indeed present a simulacrum of things that are already musical, or at least sonic. That leaves open the question of whether music can depict things like mountains or falling in love or war or witches tormenting an ex-girlfriend. And that sidesteps the original idea of what music means.

Quote from: some guy on December 03, 2009, 12:45:08 PM
Music can indeed present a simulacrum of things that are already musical, or at least sonic. That leaves open the question of whether music can depict things like mountains or falling in love or war or witches tormenting an ex-girlfriend. And that sidesteps the original idea of what music means.

I feel uneasy about this - as if several different definitions of meaning are somehow being telescoped together in such a way that they can't be discussed without bewilderment. (At any rate, I confess to being bewildered.) There are bits of Handel's Acis and Galatea, for instance, where the meaning clearly involves birds in some way. That doesn't mean it can't be enjoyed for its 'abstract' meaning, where the formal structure is the only thing considered (for anyone capable of doing that); but there's no doubt that at least part of the 'meaning' Handel intended to convey involved birds in some way. The libretto makes it clear; the recognisable character of the sounds makes it clear. Doesn't it?

I don't see why there's a problem involved in music carrying this kind of meaning along with it - any more than a big blob of green paint on top of a vertical brown stripe can carry some sort of meaning relating to 'tree' as well as being an abstract design. Or am I simply not understanding what this discussion is about?

Quote from: Elgarian on December 03, 2009, 01:42:32 PMI feel uneasy about this - as if several different definitions of meaning are somehow being telescoped together in such a way that they can't be discussed without bewilderment.

Sorry! What I was trying to do was separate out the different definitions of meaning, so we could all agree on which one to talk about (not the depiction one*).

Quote from: Elgarian on December 03, 2009, 01:42:32 PMthere's no doubt that at least part of the 'meaning' Handel intended to convey involved birds in some way. The libretto makes it clear; the recognisable character of the sounds makes it clear. Doesn't it?

Sure does. That's another example of the storm type, music mimicking other sonic events.

Quote from: Elgarian on December 03, 2009, 01:42:32 PMI don't see why there's a problem involved in music carrying this kind of meaning along with it - any more than a big blob of green paint on top of a vertical brown stripe can carry some sort of meaning relating to 'tree' as well as being an abstract design. Or am I simply not understanding what this discussion is about?

There's no problem with music doing this--at least that's not the problem I was addressing originally. I wanted to get the discussion back to whether or not music could mean things like "the struggle between life and death." And particularly if it's even desirable to load music up with such meanings. There's no doubt that music can make bird calls and storm sounds. Those things are already "musical," after all.

*which I divided into two parts, the mimicking of other sound events, birds calling or thunder crashing, and the depiction of non-sonic realities, like mountains or falling in love or even falling in love with three oranges.

That music can imitate the sound of a bird or the wind or a thunderclap is the lowest level of musical expression.  In a great piece of music like Beethoven's pastoral these effects are a thin veneer layered on top of some very profound music.  What great music does is evoke emotions in an abstract way, independent of any specific story or narrative.  It does this through a combination of culturally define cues and innate biological responses to sound (harmony, and melody).  Sometimes composers like to associate the music with a specific story narrative (like a Strauss tone poem) but in great music this adds a bit of extra flavor to deeply conceived music. 

And again, music evokes emotion, it does not communicate anything definite.

Quote from: some guy on December 03, 2009, 02:44:25 PM
I wanted to get the discussion back to whether or not music could mean things like "the struggle between life and death." And particularly if it's even desirable to load music up with such meanings. There's no doubt that music can make bird calls and storm sounds. Those things are already "musical," after all.

*which I divided into two parts, the mimicking of other sound events, birds calling or thunder crashing, and the depiction of non-sonic realities, like mountains or falling in love or even falling in love with three oranges.

Yes, I do see that, but I'm still struggling to explain my unease, and I haven't yet done it adequately. My point about the birds isn't just the mimicking. Scarpia's right - the mere mimicking is nothing to make a fuss about. But the fact that the bird sounds are there tells us that Handel wants us to be thinking about birds at that point - he's offering not merely an illusion that birds are present (which isn't terribly convincing in any case) but a feeling about birds. He's directing our emotional response in a bird-ish direction, for an emotional, partly extra-musical purpose.

Music has the same problem as abstract painting: as Scarpia observes, it conveys feeling, but we have nothing concrete to attach it to without some other hint - which we can provide ourselves (using our Duchampian 50% responsibility for the engagement) and imagine mountains, or the sea, or Antarctica, or simply 'awe', or seek further hints from the composer. So I think this means that a passage of music can generate feelings which have the potential to be associated with 'the struggle between life and death', but without further hints (or some provision of our own imagination) we may not be able to pin it down. But if the composer, let's say, offers us a lively dance theme followed by a funeral march, and then leads us into a section that makes us feel afraid - won't we interpret that (correctly) as some kind of musical discourse on 'the struggle between life and death'? This is a terribly crude example, and in truth one imagines that what would be going on would be far more subtle, but do you see what I mean?

Elgarian, yes, I see what you mean.

In my own experience, I've never felt that either music or abstract painting were problematical in this way. Music and abstract painting have always seemed to me to be sufficient in themselves without being turned into something else (mountains, sea, Antarctica, awe) before I could enjoy them, before I could feel I understood them.

Or to put it another way (going the other direction), I've always been able to appreciate sounds and images (non-representational shapes and colors) without feeling any need to translate them into some other reality. So perhaps I will not be able to address your unease, I guess is what I'm saying. Or perhaps this will do the trick--if I can be comfortable with the sounds and the images as they are, in themselves, then it is possible* to enjoy music and abstract art without the attaching of concrete things to them.

*Perhaps the real question is not, is it possible, but is it desirable? My point here has been that it is desirable. I'm certainly aware that the other may be desirable, too. It seems a terrible distraction to me. It seems a pulling away from whatever you're trying to understand/enjoy, a movement towards something else, something alien. But it's possible that that's just my personal problem, too, eh?

Quote from: some guy on December 04, 2009, 11:05:50 AM
In my own experience, I've never felt that either music or abstract painting were problematical in this way. Music and abstract painting have always seemed to me to be sufficient in themselves without being turned into something else (mountains, sea, Antarctica, awe) before I could enjoy them, before I could feel I understood them.

I don't think it's the enjoyment that's problematic; it's the talking about it afterwards. In terms of visual art, I respond very much as you do to abstract work; it's sufficient in itself (insofar as it can be so isolated). Patrick Heron says somewhere that he doesn't understand why the exploration of a pictorial space defined only by colour should be so satisfying and mysterious - but that it is. And he's right, up to a point. But part of the reason why we respond as we do, I think, is that we've been so conditioned by our encounters with nature that we can't completely divorce them from our aesthetic response to art (whether visual or musical). Try as I might (not that I particularly want to), I simply can't listen to Sibelius's 1st symphony without mental images of snow and wind popping up - which in turn modifies my response to the music.

So I'm squirming a bit about the idea of 'needing' to translate non-representational sounds into a different reality. I can only speak for myself, but I don't experience it (if it happens) as a need. It just happens. I can't stop it, except by an extreme effort of will that hardly seems worthwhile. So I prefer your second suggestion - the idea that it's possible to be comfortable with the sounds and images as they are; but I think I want to qualify that by wondering if the 'being comfortable' is an illusion. Even if I think I'm completely absorbed by the formal relations of tone, shape, texture and colour, I don't need much persuading to accept that something else is also going on, subliminally - the extra layers that caused Ruskin to separate out the 'aesthetic' from the 'theoretic'.

QuoteIt seems a terrible distraction to me. It seems a pulling away from whatever you're trying to understand/enjoy, a movement towards something else, something alien. But it's possible that that's just my personal problem, too, eh?

I think it might be - but only in the sense that we all have such preferences, and I think they're 'problems' only if we allow them to be. Often I don't want to separate out my responses in the way you like to do, though I'll fight anyone who says you shouldn't do it. The self-referencing distractions aren't distractions, for me, and I enjoy tracing them out, because so often they lead me back into the work with fresh insight. That tracing is part of what I do with my 50% portion of Duchamp's allocation of responsibility.

So what it comes down to (you see how magically we get back on track, and all the digressions funnel back in) is that Tchaikovsky places these notes before us - he makes his musical statement, in order to show us something. We attend to this musical object as closely as we can, and the result is a unique creation - a creative engagement between the best that Tchaikovsky could offer, and the best attention that we can muster. And if I feel sad, or even despairing, when I listen to the Pathetique, then that's an outcome of this engagement for me; it's neither right nor wrong - it's as close as I'm going to get to the partly musical and (I suppose) partly emotional expression he was trying to convey. We'll never know how close that might be, because there's no book of answers. There's just the art; and all we can do is give it such attention as we're individually capable of, and see what happens.

(Thanks, by the way, for forcing me to rethink all this stuff. This really is one of those instances of finding out what I think by seeing what I say.)

Elgarian, if I wanted "comfortable," I certainly wouldn't listen to any movement of Tchaik 6! ;D

Quote from: jochanaan on December 04, 2009, 12:22:46 PM
Elgarian, if I wanted "comfortable," I certainly wouldn't listen to any movement of Tchaik 6!

Definitely only to be listened to sitting on a hard chair.

Quote from: Elgarian on December 04, 2009, 12:16:52 PMTry as I might (not that I particularly want to), I simply can't listen to Sibelius's 1st symphony without mental images of snow and wind popping up - which in turn modifies my response to the music.

Interesting. Not a need, just something that happens. (Not something I would have been able to come up with on my own. Good on you for giving me this idea.) And for me, I've never made mental images like this but once. Listening to Smetana's Ma Vlast for the first time as a kid. It was late at night, and I had gone to bed, and while the music was playing, I made all sorts of images of knights and castles and such. I don't do that any more. Ma Vlast has become a piece of music, only, again for me.

Quote from: Elgarian on December 04, 2009, 12:16:52 PMEven if I think I'm completely absorbed by the formal relations of tone, shape, texture and colour, I don't need much persuading to accept that something else is also going on, subliminally - the extra layers that caused Ruskin to separate out the 'aesthetic' from the 'theoretic'.

I don't think of the relations of tone, shape, texture and colour as being formal. But then I don't think of the relations of tone, shape, texture and colour. I certainly experience them. But, as you mentioned, I only think about them when I'm talking about the experience afterwards. As far as "something else ... going on," I think that's the nub of it right there. I don't think there's something else going on, nor do I need there to be. What's right there seems sufficient.

This is not to say that I don't get more and more out of a work at each subsequent hearing. Of course I do. But the more I get is always a musical more, not a narrative more or a pictoral more or a cinematic more--a dear friend of mine turns every piece of music into a movie; that's how he experiences music--or even an emotional more. (I don't value music for its ability to affect me emotionally. As I have intimated before, everything affects me emotionally. I value music because it sounds good. I'm wired to respond viscerally and spiritually to sound. (I wonder. Did I just contradict myself?))

Quote from: Elgarian on December 04, 2009, 12:16:52 PMOften I don't want to separate out my responses in the way you like to do, though I'll fight anyone who says you shouldn't do it.

Beauty!!

Quote from: Elgarian on December 04, 2009, 12:16:52 PM(Thanks, by the way, for forcing me to rethink all this stuff. This really is one of those instances of finding out what I think by seeing what I say.)

And me you too. Always a pleasure to converse with you.

Quote from: some guy on December 04, 2009, 02:42:44 PM
I don't think of the relations of tone, shape, texture and colour as being formal. But then I don't think of the relations of tone, shape, texture and colour. I certainly experience them. But, as you mentioned, I only think about them when I'm talking about the experience afterwards.

'Structural' might have been a better word than 'formal'. But as you say, it only matters afterwards, not during.


May I stick these two bits together for comparison?
Statement A

QuoteAs far as "something else ... going on," I think that's the nub of it right there. I don't think there's something else going on, nor do I need there to be. What's right there seems sufficient.

Statement B (my emphasis)

QuoteI value music because it sounds good. I'm wired to respond viscerally and spiritually to sound. (I wonder. Did I just contradict myself?))

I think you did. I think it's ever so interesting that you added that 'and spiritually', there. That's the theoretic* separating itself from the aesthetic.

*I mean theoretic in Ruskin's sense of the word.

Quote from: Scarpia on December 03, 2009, 02:48:24 PM
And again, music evokes emotion, it does not communicate anything definite.

Sure, I like that description, especially the evocation part.

Still, I'm not entirely sure when vocal music is concerned, both religious and secular.
I'm sure one will find a certain amount of elements there, which are really meant to be narrative and communicative by the composer. Like 17th or 18th century church cantatas with a lot of sermon-like qualitites. Or a lot of songs, no matter if the composer is John Downland or Robert Schumann.
Of course one has to know the meaning of the lyrics. That's when a booklet with translation comes in handy. But if the listener doesn't know the meaning, then the music becomes more abstract again, and the importance of the evocation part has 'returned'. :) (At least that's my personal experience.)

Quote from: jochanaan on December 04, 2009, 12:22:46 PM
Elgarian, if I wanted "comfortable," I certainly wouldn't listen to any movement of Tchaik 6! ;D

Quote from: Elgarian on December 04, 2009, 12:33:07 PM
Definitely only to be listened to sitting on a hard chair.

Tchaikovsky's 6th is such expressive music that it goes straight to my heart. Even if I sit on a comfy chair. ;D

Quote from: Marc on December 06, 2009, 01:15:41 AM
...Tchaikovsky's 6th is such expressive music that it goes straight to my heart. Even if I sit on a comfy chair. ;D

And not in a "comforting" way, I'll bet!  :) That was my point.  This music evokes enough emotions we usually don't like to feel to blow all our comfortable preconceptions out of our heads.  At least it did, and does, for me.

Quote from: jochanaan on December 06, 2009, 08:27:08 AM
This music evokes enough emotions we usually don't like to feel to blow all our comfortable preconceptions out of our heads.

We've covered so much territory in a short space that I've somewhat lost track of where we started, but I think at least three of us (Marc + jochanaan + me) agree on this in terms of emotional discomfort, at least. I'm not entirely sure, though, whether it blows away my preconceptions or confirms them.

Quote from: jochanaan on December 06, 2009, 08:27:08 AM
And not in a "comforting" way, I'll bet! :)

Sometimes it doesn't work that way, and then I turn it off.

Quote from: jochanaan
This music evokes enough emotions we usually don't like to feel to blow all our comfortable preconceptions out of our heads.  At least it did, and does, for me.

I think I know what you mean. Usually I don't, but sometimes I really need c.q. like to utter these emotions. Tchaikovsky 6 helps me to endure them, and to cope with them. In the end, this is a very satisfying experience. That's one of the reasons why this piece is one of my beloved treasures.

Music as therapy.

I guess that's OK, as far as it goes. (That is, I'm sure it is satisfying.) But the question keeps coming up: But what about the music?

There's so much more. Sure music can comfort, but so can a nice bowl of hot chicken soup (or tofu for vegans), so can a nice warm kitty curled up on your lap, so can a friend's arm around your shoulders. These are all very nice things, and what's more they have all helped me to endure and to cope with difficult emotions. And that's been very satisfying.

Surely though there's more* to great art than what a cat curled up on your lap can provide. Or?

*Perhaps "more" is even the wrong word. It's not more of something; it's something quite other. Neither music nor cats can substitute for each other. Their values, while there may be some overlap**, are quite different from each other.

**pun

Quote from: some guy on December 06, 2009, 12:42:13 PM
I guess that's OK, as far as it goes. (That is, I'm sure it is satisfying.) But the question keeps coming up: But what about the music?

There's so much more.

I think the confusion may be arising here, at least in part, because of a misunderstanding. You could, I think, by separating 'music' from emotion (or even from 'life'), seem to be offering not more, but less.

I know you're not offering less, in fact. But that's maybe how it seems. Aesthesis is not more than Theoria. It's different. To get the full richness of response to the arts, both need to be in operation. (You recognised the need yourself, I think, when you added the words 'and spiritual' in your earlier post.) So when you say this, we're getting closer:

Quote*Perhaps "more" is even the wrong word. It's not more of something; it's something quite other.

Exactly so. This is why Ruskin's terms, although unfashionably antiquated (he borrows his terms from Aristotle, I think), can help to clarify discussions like these, because they distinguish between that part of our enjoyment of art which is supplied by the senses (aesthesis) and that which is apprehended by our moral or spiritual faculty (theoria).

The better I think the music is, the better the (non-musical) effect it has, and vice versa. :)
This goes from operette to heavy contrapuntal compositions, et cetera et cetera.

Quote from: some guy on December 06, 2009, 12:42:13 PM
Music as therapy... There's so much more. Sure music can comfort, but so can a nice bowl of hot chicken soup (or tofu for vegans), so can a nice warm kitty curled up on your lap, so can a friend's arm around your shoulders. These are all very nice things, and what's more they have all helped me to endure and to cope with difficult emotions. And that's been very satisfying.

Surely though there's more* to great art than what a cat curled up on your lap can provide. Or?...

Well, of course.  If the music weren't great to begin with, it wouldn't be so therapeutic.  And of course, extensive therapy is not "comforting" nor really comfortable.  (I've been there; I know.)  Real healing has to take you out of your comfort zone. :)

Quote from: jochanaan on December 06, 2009, 08:03:26 PM
If the music weren't great to begin with, it wouldn't be so therapeutic.  And of course, extensive therapy is not "comforting" nor really comfortable.

Thinking about this after my previous post, I found myself very much of the same mind. As you say, therapy isn't primarily about comfort, but about growth: an enhancement of understanding involving an extension or development of the self. That seems to be consistent with the kind of thing we get from a profound experience of art.

The other point I think we were making is that Tchaikovsky's 6th is not comforting. Any therapeutic value it might have would be cathartic rather than reassuring. (That guy Aristotle again - he will keep popping up.)

Quote from: Elgarian on December 07, 2009, 01:04:08 AM
Thinking about this after my previous post, I found myself very much of the same mind. As you say, therapy isn't primarily about comfort, but about growth: an enhancement of understanding involving an extension or development of the self. That seems to be consistent with the kind of thing we get from a profound experience of art.

The other point I think we were making is that Tchaikovsky's 6th is not comforting. Any therapeutic value it might have would be cathartic rather than reassuring. (That guy Aristotle again - he will keep popping up.)

Yep, very much of the same mind. 8)

I tried dipping into Karl Popper's autiobiography today - he has a couple of sections on the philosophy of music, and I thought at first he was going to shed some light on this discussion. It looked promising because he starts by criticising the idea of art as the expression of emotions: Popper declares (as some guy suggested) that since anything can be an expression of emotion, the expression of emotion 'is not a characteristic of art'.

Now this seems to me to be as clearly wrong as it would be to conclude that the expression of meaning is not a characteristic of language, on the grounds that anything - a scowl, a gesture, firing a gun - can convey meaning. I admire Popper's thought when it comes to the philosophy of science, but I think he's wrong here. It's correct to observe that the expression of emotion is not a unique characteristic of art; but that doesn't mean that one of the purposes of art may not be to express emotion. The observation that I can stay alive either by eating or by taking intravenous nutrient injections doesn't nullify the important fact that a primary purpose of eating is to stay alive.

Popper goes on to talk about the composition of music not as expression, but as problem-solving: 'To see the musician as struggling to solve musical problems is of course very different from seeing him engaged in expressing his emotions'. Well of course - but this seems a remarkably monodimensional theory of composition. Why can he not be engaged in both? That is, why may he not be engaged in solving a musical problem in such a way as to express an emotion? In fact we know composers do this. Consider Fiordiligi's aria 'Come scoglia' from Cosi Fan Tutti. We know she's declaring, very forcibly, her belief in her own strength of character. Not only the words, but the music, express it. But the orchestral accompaniment gently questions the genuineness of the claim, with at times a kind of mocking, tittering attitude. Mozart is solving some very complex musical problems, certainly, but he's doing so in a way that makes us feel simultaneously the strength of Fiordiligi's feelings, and also to feel some doubts about them. Any adequate discussion of the music has to bring all these things into the debate.

I've used 'Come scoglia' as an example because the various facets of music and expression are interwoven in a very obvious way, so it's easy to unravel, but the general principle stands. Tchaikovsky's composition of the 6th symphony was, I'd like to suggest,  a solving of musical problems with a view to the expression of certain feelings. Without that aspect of 'expression', I'm not sure I see much difference between composition and the solving of a crossword puzzle. Solving crossword puzzles can be an engrossing activity, but I never solved a crossword puzzle yet that brought me to the edge of tears.

Sounds like he's forgetting a bit of common sense.

Well, it seems like we're not going to agree. But maybe some further explanation might at least get us all to the point where we at least know what we're not agreeing about. :)

Elgarian cites Popper as saying that since anything can be an expression of emotion, the expression of emotion is not a characteristic of art. Popper is not saying that art cannot or does not express emotion, however (any more than he would say that language cannot or does not express meaning). He just got through saying (or was so cited) that anything can be an expression of emotion.

Anything includes art.

If you're trying to isolate the characteristics of something, that is, the things that make that thing that thing and not some other thing, then you will have to do some eliminating, among other things. If music, say, shares things in common with literature and philosophy and bridges and skyscrapers and birds, then those common things won't go very far towards defining what music is. That's common sense! (All animals breathe, so breathing is not a characteristic of dogs. You wouldn't define a dog as something that breathes unless you were contrasting animals and rocks. And then you're not talking about dogs any more, per se!)

When it comes to music, it seems that many (most) listeners use it for other than musical purposes, daydreaming, therapy (comforting or otherwise), background noise, and for stirring up all sorts of emotions. Now just because music can indeed help one accomplish all those things doesn't mean those things are the purpose of music. Does music have a purpose or a value that is musical, something that goes beyond utility (nice though the uses can be)?

I think yes (which was the real import of my using what I feared at the time was an ill-chosed word: spiritual). That is, I don't think music is important because it has spiritual values; I think music is important because it has musical values and that these musical values are analogous to what we might term spiritual values as opposed to practical values. (Music doesn't feed you like potatoes do or shelter you like roofs do.)

Music can certainly cause you to feel things. Composers who felt things most certainly did write some music while feeling those things or perhaps by doing a bit of recalling in tranquility. But if you're focussed on your emotions when you listen, then you're missing the music.

The composer, in the meantime, has to face musical issues, the things that have to do with vibrations and dynamics and durations and the various ways of combining various sounds. (I'm sure Grofe had emotions as deep as anyone else's, but his music will never stack up against Bartok's or Schoenberg's because he didn't have the same chops musically that those guys did.)

Quote from: some guy on December 08, 2009, 09:19:46 PM
Well, it seems like we're not going to agree.

I don't see what's preventing us from agreeing - at least up to a point. After all, I'm not denying that there's a non-emotional component to the composing and appreciation of music. I'm arguing only for the inclusion of the emotional/spiritual component as part of the 'purpose' of both activities.

QuoteElgarian cites Popper as saying that since anything can be an expression of emotion, the expression of emotion is not a characteristic of art. Popper is not saying that art cannot or does not express emotion, however (any more than he would say that language cannot or does not express meaning). He just got through saying (or was so cited) that anything can be an expression of emotion.

Anything includes art.

Yes, that's definitely what he's saying, and we all agree with him this far.

QuoteIf you're trying to isolate the characteristics of something, that is, the things that make that thing that thing and not some other thing, then you will have to do some eliminating, among other things. If music, say, shares things in common with literature and philosophy and bridges and skyscrapers and birds, then those common things won't go very far towards defining what music is. That's common sense! (All animals breathe, so breathing is not a characteristic of dogs. You wouldn't define a dog as something that breathes unless you were contrasting animals and rocks. And then you're not talking about dogs any more, per se!)

Here is where the differences arise - and I think it's because what Popper is attempting to do is the wrong thing. The aim is not to distinguish music from all other things it might be confused with, but to determine the purpose of music; that is, to examine what happens when a musical experience occurs. It doesn't matter if this happens to duplicate something that other things also achieve. Consider, for instance, the bicycle. We can describe its construction in terms of wheels, pedals, frame, gears etc - but if we exclude from the description the statement that the bicycle allows us to travel from one place to another, then our description is seriously lacking. It doesn't matter that cars, scooters, horses, buses and feet also allow us to travel similarly. The travelling is an essential part of the description of the purpose of a bicycle. So with music, and the spiritual/emotional experience that forms part of our experience of it.

QuoteWhen it comes to music, it seems that many (most) listeners use it for other than musical purposes, daydreaming, therapy (comforting or otherwise), background noise, and for stirring up all sorts of emotions. Now just because music can indeed help one accomplish all those things doesn't mean those things are the purpose of music.

But what about Duchamp's 50% that belongs to me? If I'm listening to Elgar and feeling better for the experience (or listening to Tchaikovsky and feeling worse), shouldn't I have a say in what the purpose of that activity is?

QuoteDoes music have a purpose or a value that is musical, something that goes beyond utility (nice though the uses can be)?

We agree that it does. Our difference arises not because I deny the value of the purely musical, but because I think the utility is an essential part of the value.

QuoteI think music is important because it has musical values and that these musical values are analogous to what we might term spiritual values as opposed to practical values.

I agree with this completely, so I'm starting to wonder if the real issue lies in the nature of the connection between the musical and the spiritual. I don't think I can cope with that right now ...

QuoteThe composer, in the meantime, has to face musical issues, the things that have to do with vibrations and dynamics and durations and the various ways of combining various sounds.

Yes. But is that really all he's doing? Was Mozart really concerned only with vibrations and dynamics etc when he composed 'Come scoglio'? I could never believe that. He knew perfectly well what emotional effects the music would have on us - he was so obviously constructing his music with dramatic, as well as musical, intent, and conveys that drama, that complexity of emotion, in a way that only music can permit.

My goodness, this is huge. It's far too ambitious of us to sort this out in a forum like this, but perhaps the thinking process it inspires, however incomplete, is as important as any outcome we might achieve. (So our conversation could be seen as an analogue of the thing we're discussing!) Indeed, conversations with you are like a rich feast in which all kinds of surprising savoury flavours keep cropping up, just when I think I'm ready for the pudding and custard.

Quote from: Elgarian on December 09, 2009, 02:05:15 AMMy goodness, this is huge. It's far too ambitious of us to sort this out in a forum like this.

Hahaha, just what I was thinking as I was writing that last post!! But we are ambitious types, are we not?

Quote from: Elgarian on December 09, 2009, 02:05:15 AMIndeed, conversations with you are like a rich feast in which all kinds of surprising savoury flavours keep cropping up, just when I think I'm ready for the pudding and custard.

Made me grin! (Plus, I've got another salad here for you, sir!)

Quote from: Elgarian on December 09, 2009, 02:05:15 AMThe aim is not to distinguish music from all other things it might be confused with, but to determine the purpose of music; that is, to examine what happens when a musical experience occurs. It doesn't matter if this happens to duplicate something that other things also achieve. Consider, for instance, the bicycle. We can describe its construction in terms of wheels, pedals, frame, gears etc - but if we exclude from the description the statement that the bicycle allows us to travel from one place to another, then our description is seriously lacking. It doesn't matter that cars, scooters, horses, buses and feet also allow us to travel similarly. The travelling is an essential part of the description of the purpose of a bicycle. So with music, and the spiritual/emotional experience that forms part of our experience of it.

I think here you have identified the crux of the matter, of this conversation if not of the topic. The bicycle is music, then, and cars are art and scooters are sculpture and horses are dance and buses are theatre and feet are poetry. How's that? And music does have many similarities with the other arts. But Popper is concerned with defining the characteristics of art, or so I understood it from a) your citation and b) my own very hazy recollections of reading him thirty or forty years ago. (Not to avoid confusion, just to identify what's characteristic to art.) So yes, all art, however different the various kinds are from each other, is all about "travel" shall we say? (though I would not agree that getting from one point to the other is the only point of travelling!!). And "travel" is not something a chair does, say, or a basketball game.

Quote from: Elgarian on December 09, 2009, 02:05:15 AMBut what about Duchamp's 50% that belongs to me?

Rather than identifying something belonging to you, I think what Duchamp is after here is more along the lines of responsibility in a relationship. Think of it that way. To make a human relationship work, you have to balance your needs with the other person's needs, based on a pretty fair idea (which you continually work at to improve) of who that other person is. I think I may be only trying to point out that if we don't keep trying to understand what sort of thing music is, and what it requires from us as listeners, then our relationship with it will be flawed. If in a relationship with another human, you were to process everything as what you were getting out of it, what value it had for you, then that would be a relationship that wouldn't have much chance of surviving.

With music, of course, music not being sentient, it's not going to pack up and move back to mother's even if you abuse it!

Quote from: Elgarian on December 09, 2009, 02:05:15 AM[Mozart] knew perfectly well what emotional effects the music would have on us....

Hmmm. Not perfectly. Only approximately. (You do know people whom Mozart leaves perfectly (!) cold, do you not?)

Does music, including the symphony we're discussing, have to have a purpose at all?  If so, why? ???

Quote from: jochanaan on December 09, 2009, 08:43:17 AM
Does music, including the symphony we're discussing, have to have a purpose at all?  If so, why? ???

It has a purpose in the sense that Tchaikovsky didn't just compose it as a kind of random act. He had a reason or reasons for composing it (we suppose), and a potential audience in mind that would listen to it. And we, as listeners, choose to listen to it with purpose, hoping, I presume, to gain something from the experience. So those are all different 'purposes', related both to composing and to listening, which I suppose add up to something that we might call 'the purpose' of the music - that is, the ambitiously tricky thing that we're trying to unravel in this thread. (I do understand that the unravelling process won't appeal to everyone; I have some sympathy with the existentialist approach that might say - here I am, here's the music, I'll dive in.)

Still chewing on some guy's salad. Lots to digest, there.

Quote from: Elgarian on December 09, 2009, 09:02:33 AM
It has a purpose in the sense that Tchaikovsky didn't just compose it as a kind of random act. He had a reason or reasons for composing it (we suppose), and a potential audience in mind that would listen to it. And we, as listeners, choose to listen to it with purpose, hoping, I presume, to gain something from the experience. So those are all different 'purposes', related both to composing and to listening, which I suppose add up to something that we might call 'the purpose' of the music - that is, the ambitiously tricky thing that we're trying to unravel in this thread. (I do understand that the unravelling process won't appeal to everyone; I have some sympathy with the existentialist approach that might say - here I am, here's the music, I'll dive in.)...

So can we reduce that purpose to words?  Or is its purpose simply itself, in all its many diverse aspects?

Quote from: jochanaan on December 10, 2009, 08:39:08 AM
So can we reduce that purpose to words?

I don't think so. Ultimately we hit up against Wittgenstein's distinction between things that can be said, and things that can only be shown. The music 'shows' us something that can't be said. So speaking purely personally, I think the only thing that really counts, when all the talking is done, is the individual subjective encounter with the music - whatever form that takes, and regardless of whether or not the nature of the encounter can be explained to anyone else. So I'd say (at my present state of thinking, which might change) that the 'purpose' of the music is to make possible a satisfying and life-enhancing experience for the individual listener. But I don't say this is a suitable universal definition, and I wouldn't want to attempt a philosophical defence of it.

I'm going to have to reply to this intriguing post in bits, because I'm struggling for time. These two bits I can respond to immediately:

Quote from: some guy on December 09, 2009, 08:41:57 AM
I think here you have identified the crux of the matter, of this conversation if not of the topic. The bicycle is music, then, and cars are art and scooters are sculpture and horses are dance and buses are theatre and feet are poetry. How's that? And music does have many similarities with the other arts. But Popper is concerned with defining the characteristics of art, or so I understood it from a) your citation and b) my own very hazy recollections of reading him thirty or forty years ago. (Not to avoid confusion, just to identify what's characteristic to art.) So yes, all art, however different the various kinds are from each other, is all about "travel" shall we say? (though I would not agree that getting from one point to the other is the only point of travelling!!). And "travel" is not something a chair does, say, or a basketball game.

Yes yes yes! We understand each other perfectly. That's exactly what I meant, and mean.

QuoteHmmm. Not perfectly. Only approximately. (You do know people whom Mozart leaves perfectly (!) cold, do you not?)

Yes. I should have said 'could' rather than 'would', because there are no guarantees in art. But it doesn't matter. The important thing is that, having once seen something so clearly expressed as it is in 'Come scoglio', we can recognise the composer's multiplicity of intention - that is, for a really quite specific emotional and dramatic outcome, not merely a musical one. Once we recognise that multiple intention in a very specific, sharply focused situation, we can admit that something similar (albeit vaguer) may be going on when Tchaikovsky was composing the 6th.


[Your important 'Duchamp' paragraph isn't being ignored - just deferred.]

Quote from: Elgarian on December 11, 2009, 01:51:00 AM
I don't think so. Ultimately we hit up against Wittgenstein's distinction between things that can be said, and things that can only be shown. The music 'shows' us something that can't be said. So speaking purely personally, I think the only thing that really counts, when all the talking is done, is the individual subjective encounter with the music - whatever form that takes, and regardless of whether or not the nature of the encounter can be explained to anyone else. So I'd say (at my present state of thinking, which might change) that the 'purpose' of the music is to make possible a satisfying and life-enhancing experience for the individual listener. But I don't say this is a suitable universal definition, and I wouldn't want to attempt a philosophical defence of it.

Most of this discussion has been taking place about 100 feet over my head.  But this statement makes sense to me and corresponds to my own sense of the function of music.  I would add, though, that while individual responses to a piece of music differ, there is a sufficient overlap to say that music also can create a type of community of listeners who experience the same piece of music in similar (if not identical) ways.

Quote from: Elgarian on December 11, 2009, 01:51:00 AMThe music 'shows' us something that can't be said.

Hahaha, yes! Now it's my turn to say, "Yes, this is exactly what I've been trying to say."

Quote from: Elgarian on December 11, 2009, 01:51:00 AMSo speaking purely personally, I think the only thing that really counts, when all the talking is done, is the individual subjective encounter with the music

Not following the logical progression here. How did you get from 'music presents something that can't be said' to 'the only thing that matters is the individual encounter'?

Quote from: Elgarian on December 11, 2009, 01:51:00 AMSo I'd say (at my present state of thinking, which might change) that the 'purpose' of the music is to make possible a satisfying and life-enhancing experience for the individual listener. But I don't say this is a suitable universal definition, and I wouldn't want to attempt a philosophical defence of it.

Whew! Neither would I! In fact, again you have gotten to the core of the matter--my point all along has been that the purpose of music (of art) is not to provide satisfying experiences (though it may indeed include them). I believe that this focus on the individual and the individual's experience is what started the whole process around 1800 of audiences clamouring for older (i.e., familiar) music, which led to the shift from dead composers taking up only 11 percent of concert time (1782) to taking up 50 percent in Leipzig and 74 percent in Vienna (1830) to the overwhelming 90 percent in Paris (1860s).

I would say that the purpose of art in its current manifestation is to "say" something meaningful and revelatory (Cage's favorite word, btw) about the universe and about the relationships between things. That means that current art will doubtless be "saying" things that are either annoying and abhorrent or just flat incomprehensible. (This is not to say that if something is annoying, abhorrent, and incomprehensible it is therefore artistic!!) But there's that annoying (!) time thing happening, too. Whereby the annoying, abhorrent, and incomprehensible of yesterday (and last week) becomes the comprehensible, pleasant, and desirable of today.

And there's also the other annoying business of some listeners being less out of synch than others, whereby the annoying listeners are constantly going on and on about the pleasures of electro-acoustic improv to people still struggling with the putative difficulties of serialism.

It's not hard to see that older (more pleasant) art is easier to take as something whose purpose is to please the listener, including the "harder" messages we've been imputing to the Pathetique, I would say. That is, no one finds the 6th to be difficult or off-putting like some people (still) find serialism to be, even if it's possible to say something like the 6th is "darker" or more "depressing" than the Nutcracker ballet. My question all along has been, can we experience the music as something above and beyond our own each individual needs and desires, all music, not just the new stuff that's obviously not meeting our needs!! Can we experience all art as being like Rilke's angels, whom we adore because they disdain to destroy us?

In The Educated Imagination, Northrop Frye says this about "the top half of literature": "This is the world of heroes and gods and titans..., a world of powers and passions and moments of ecstasy far greater than anything we meet outside the imagination. Such forces would not only absorb but annihilate us if they entered ordinary life.... As the German poet Rilke says, we adore them because they disdain to destroy us. We seem to have got quite a long way from our emotions with their division of things into 'I like this' and 'I don't like this'," which is where Frye begins his traversal of literature in this book. "Literature gives us an experience that stretches us ... to the heights and depths of what the human mind can conceive, to what corresponds to heaven and hell in religion. In this perspective what I like or don't like disappears, because there's nothing left of me as a separate person; as a reader of literature I exist only as a representative of humanity as a whole."

I think that that view of things is possible with music as well--indeed I would claim that music can stretch even better than literature, is even more able to absorb and annihilate--except that music has been domesticated somehow, as have angels, too, come to think of it! We have turned music into our servant, something that must meet our needs, something that must serve us and our desires.

I like to think we can get beyond that!

Quote from: some guy on December 09, 2009, 08:41:57 AM
Rather than identifying something belonging to you, I think what Duchamp is after here is more along the lines of responsibility in a relationship. Think of it that way. To make a human relationship work, you have to balance your needs with the other person's needs, based on a pretty fair idea (which you continually work at to improve) of who that other person is. I think I may be only trying to point out that if we don't keep trying to understand what sort of thing music is, and what it requires from us as listeners, then our relationship with it will be flawed. If in a relationship with another human, you were to process everything as what you were getting out of it, what value it had for you, then that would be a relationship that wouldn't have much chance of surviving.

Yes, this is much better than the too-casual statement that I made. Instead of talking about 'the Duchamp 50% that belongs to us', I should have said 'the Duchamp 50% that I'm responsible for'. That's much, much better, and I agree with you completely in what you say here. The only point I would add is that even with the best of intentions, we can end up with a flawed relationship with the music - and in most cases almost certainly do. That's part of the essential risk in art, even if we open ourselves to it as well as we can.

But what I was really trying to say about 'my 50%' is that I do have a say in what happens here and now with this musical engagement. Once the artist has made his statement, and if I'm doing my best to attend to it, my experience of that encounter is as valid as anyone else's. Or rather, I've no clear reason to give preference to someone else's statement over my own about the meaningfulness of what happens. I may consider what others say, and I may change my way of listening as a result to try out their suggestions for myself; but if again and again my listening persuades me that (for instance) emotional expression is an essential component of musical experience, then I can do no better than go with whatever light I have. I know what I know - at least, for now. I may hear the opinions of a million others with respect, but at the end it's I who has to decide.

Quote from: some guy on December 11, 2009, 09:44:10 AM
Not following the logical progression here. How did you get from 'music presents something that can't be said' to 'the only thing that matters is the individual encounter'?

Again you're right - I'm not being precise enough. If you want to tell me something that can be said, we have a linguistic means of checking the accuracy of our communication. We can thrash the thing to and fro in words until we're satisfied that the other understands our meaning (much as we're doing in this very rewarding exchange we're having now).

But if you want to 'show' me something by, let's say, playing it on a piano, you can have no such certainty about being understood, and I can have no certainty that this musical experience I'm having is exactly what you intended to show me. There's no language in which we can check our results - we're into 'showing', not 'saying'. All I can know is what I'm experiencing. That is, the central event of this whole interchange - all I can know - is my subjective experience of your musical statement. All considerations of the meaning of art come down to this central point - the observer/listener/reader engaging with the painting/music/poem. That's the point at which the 'showing' and 'perceiving' occurs.

I'd be surprised if we disagree on this, actually; I think our differences in this particular area probably aren't real differences - but misunderstandings. It's not easy stuff to describe.

I need to think longer and harder about the rest of your post #63. This is great stuff, you know.

Quote from: some guy on December 11, 2009, 09:44:10 AM
...--except that music has been domesticated somehow, as have angels, too, come to think of it!...

Speak for your own music! :) I've got some pretty wild stuff in my CD collection--and my performing repertoire. 8) But I confess I'm a little out of the ordinary; I actually LIKE the wild stuff. ;D

Quote from: some guy on December 11, 2009, 09:44:10 AM
I would say that the purpose of art in its current manifestation is to "say" [show] something meaningful and revelatory (Cage's favorite word, btw) about the universe and about the relationships between things. That means that current art will doubtless be "saying" [showing] things that are either annoying and abhorrent or just flat incomprehensible. (This is not to say that if something is annoying, abhorrent, and incomprehensible it is therefore artistic!!) But there's that annoying (!) time thing happening, too. Whereby the annoying, abhorrent, and incomprehensible of yesterday (and last week) becomes the comprehensible, pleasant, and desirable of today.

Let me say straight away that I could sign up immediately to this manifesto by making only a few slight changes. First, I'd change the red bits to blue. That lifts art out of the 'saying' arena and into the 'showing' arena where (I think you'll agree), it belongs. I can't decide whether I want to change 'the purpose of art' to 'a purpose of art'. I can't decide, primarily, because to the best of my knowledge the purpose or meaning of art has never been satisfactorily resolved as a philosophical problem (it has even been declared a non-problem I believe, but it jolly well feels like one to me). So, with the proviso that I think art may have more than one purpose, I can agree to everything you write here.

I feel more and more convinced that our differences are misunderstandings, not disagreements. When I spoke of 'satisfying' or 'life-enhancing' experiences, I was wasn't talking about 'liking', or the aural equivalent of a nice dish of pudding. I was assuming (prematurely) that we were past that. What is 'satisfied' by art is not the need to get cosy and warm and comfortable, but the need to extend experience, in the same sense as CS Lewis talks of seeing 'with the eyes of a thousand men, yet it is still I who see'. That's the kind of satisfaction I mean - the satisfaction of transcending ourselves; that's the kind of life-enhancement I was talking about: exposure to the potentially illuminating Other. We're singing in unison here.

QuoteI believe that this focus on the individual and the individual's experience is what started the whole process around 1800 of audiences clamouring for older (i.e., familiar) music

I suspect that here again we may be merely misunderstanding each other. I've already said above that I agree that art involves exposure to the 'other'; but - and for me this is crucial - I can't experience this except as an individual. There is no objective experience of art. There can't be. This brings me back to that point of contact - the engagement of the receiver with the art. This is where the problem must lie. At that boundary a whole spectrum of things can happen, but at one end of the spectrum the receiver can open himself fully to the art and receive; or at the other end of the spectrum he can bring his own baggage entirely into play, and impose his preconceptions upon the art.

I presume that in most cases there's a mix of the two. As far as our present discussion is concerned, the real question is - when we listen to the 6th and feel miserable, is it our own misery that we're bringing to the music, or is Tchaikovsky genuinely sharing his misery with us through his art? It really matters. If the former, then our response to the music is on the same level as our fondness for apple pie (which is what you've been worried about, yes?). If the latter, then our experience is being extended in the way that only art can extend it; and such an experience would be a significant extra-musical contribution to the art experience.

I love all your Northrop Frye stuff, by the way. You won't find me disagreeing with any of that - most particularly what he says about 'liking' and 'not liking'. Whatever it is that both you and I are talking about (if ever we can sort out what it is) has nothing to do with 'liking' and 'not liking'.

Elgarian,

But now that we agree (and indeed we do, I see), what the hell shall we talk about?? ;D

I suppose there are other threads.... :)

--Michael

Quote from: some guy on December 12, 2009, 09:55:58 PM
But now that we agree (and indeed we do, I see), what the hell shall we talk about??

I was hoping that now you'd be able to explain to me what it is that we've been talking about....


Meanwhile, we still haven't resolved (at least, I know I haven't, because I'm unclear about the issue) the connection between our appreciation of what we might call formal structure (the purely musical, or the purely pictorial), and the feelings we experience when we contemplate it.

If (as you'd advocate) we separate them, then I believe we risk missing a proper understanding of the motivation not only for the creative act itself, but also for the act of listening. That's not to say that the separation wouldn't be valuable if done temporarily. As you've been saying all along, it really can be helpful to lay all feelings aside and concentrate purely on formal relationships (which I can do in visual art, but much less well in music where my formal understanding is so much the poorer), provided we have the intention of putting them back together again afterwards. (The bicycle in pieces might still be interesting, but you can't ride it very well.) Blake's entire mythology is a commentary on the unfortunate consequences of separating faculties that should be operating together. Ruskin says much the same: 'Senses, fancy, feeling, reason, the whole of the beholding spirit, must be stilled in attention or stirred in delight, else the labouring spirit has not done its work well.'

If we tinker with that set of spanners, we might conclude that for a complete engagement with the 6th symphony (however ideal and rare this may be), we should be sensitive to the ravishment of the orchestral sounds (senses), the stimulation of our imagination (fancy), the emotions we experience (feeling), and the rationality and relationships underpinning the musical structure (reason). Would that account satisfy all of us?

Quote from: some guy on December 12, 2009, 09:55:58 PM
But now that we agree (and indeed we do, I see), what the hell shall we talk about?? ;D
--Michael

You and I have this problem now too, Michael.  I just saw the first pig fly by about 8AM this morning.  :D

Quote from: Elgarian on December 13, 2009, 12:29:35 AM
...If we tinker with that set of spanners, we might conclude that for a complete engagement with the 6th symphony (however ideal and rare this may be), we should be sensitive to the ravishment of the orchestral sounds (senses), the stimulation of our imagination (fancy), the emotions we experience (feeling), and the rationality and relationships underpinning the musical structure (reason). Would that account satisfy all of us?

It might--if anyone could balance it.  Or explain the results. ;D

Quote from: jochanaan on December 13, 2009, 12:32:38 PM
It might--if anyone could balance it.  Or explain the results. ;D

I forgot to mention that it would be nice if, at the same time, we could tame three fierce lions and walk a tightrope.

Elgarian,

No, I have not left the room. But I have been busy. Drinking. I've been busy drinking.

Quote from: Elgarian on December 13, 2009, 12:29:35 AM
I was hoping that now you'd be able to explain to me what it is that we've been talking about....

Hmmm. Let's let jochanaan or Brahmsian do that, eh?

Quote from: Elgarian on December 13, 2009, 12:29:35 AMMeanwhile, we still haven't resolved (at least, I know I haven't, because I'm unclear about the issue) the connection between our appreciation of what we might call formal structure (the purely musical, or the purely pictorial), and the feelings we experience when we contemplate it.

If (as you'd advocate) we separate them, then I believe we risk missing a proper understanding of the motivation not only for the creative act itself, but also for the act of listening.

Actually, I've been advocating that we not separate them, or maybe more that we not privilege our emotions above all else, to the point of ignoring all the other stuff that's going on (both inside us and outside). I'm saying that if the music is (only? largely?) something along the lines of a trigger, something that triggers certain emotions, that then the music disappears (so to speak) as something in and of itself, with its peculiarly musical values. And I am also saying that practically anything can work as a trigger: a smell, a story, a memory, a picture. And none of those things needs to be anything particularly good, either. A thing need not be anything that's any good in itself for it to be able to function as a trigger. It seems like that's all a lot of people want or need from any of the arts. And I think that that's too bad.

Music can trigger emotions, but that's not what music's all about.

Quote from: Elgarian on December 13, 2009, 12:29:35 AMBlake's entire mythology is a commentary on the unfortunate consequences of separating faculties that should be operating together.

Yes, I think this is exactly what I've been on about. The emotion-evoking or picture-making or narrative-spinning qualities of music have been separated out, for many listeners, and have been substituted for everything else that goes on to the extent that the everything else is not even perceived. The everything else, for those listeners, has vanished--and not even vanished, is not even thought of.

Quote from: Elgarian on December 13, 2009, 12:29:35 AM[F]or a complete engagement with the 6th symphony (however ideal and rare this may be), we should be sensitive to the ravishment of the orchestral sounds (senses), the stimulation of our imagination (fancy), the emotions we experience (feeling), and the rationality and relationships underpinning the musical structure (reason). Would that account satisfy all of us?

Hmmm, probably not. I know that what I'm after, anyway, is an experience whereby I am pulled out of myself, where I vanish (as it were), where my needs and desires before the music starts are less important than the music itself. I could say that the music can create new needs and desires that I never had before, which is certainly true. But I can't say that I've ever gone to a concert or opened up a CD thinking, "I'm going to be given new needs and desires, now"!!

My only goal, if you can put it like that, going into a musical situation is to be as open and receptive as possible, to let the music do its work, to put my individual needs and desires to the side, as much as is possible, so as to be take in what's there to be taken.

Or maybe it's just to be sure I don't miss any o' them there flyin' piggies. Oh! There went one just now!!

Quote from: some guy on December 16, 2009, 02:10:46 PM
No, I have not left the room. But I have been busy. Drinking. I've been busy drinking.

Drinking is certainly necessary, and I'm glad to hear that someone is doing it.

QuoteI am also saying that practically anything can work as a trigger: a smell, a story, a memory, a picture. And none of those things needs to be anything particularly good, either. A thing need not be anything that's any good in itself for it to be able to function as a trigger.

I know exactly what you're getting at here, but I think what you're talking about is not a fault of emotional stimulation per se. The problem lies with a particular  self-stimulating variety of it. The kinds of triggers you (we) are suspicious of are the ones that only trigger feelings we're already familiar with. They allow us to 'use' them for a kind of self-gratification which isn't an opening, but a limiting of our experience to what we already know. What we're wanting (else it can't be good art) is to be shown (Wittgenstein's word) perceptions (and feelings) that we haven't yet experienced, or can't experience on our own: perceptions and feelings that can only be experienced when in contact with the Other.

QuoteMusic can trigger emotions, but that's not what music's all about.

Agreed - not 'all'; but I want to keep asserting that it's partly what it's about. On a purely practical basis, a musical ignoramus like myself is only able to enter into the purely musical aspect of music to a very limited degree. I need that emotional involvement to keep me going. But also, I find myself wanting to say, no no - when I listen to the wonderful Mozart violin/fortepiano sonatas that I've only recently 'discovered', I can hear him laughing with delight at his own inventive discoveries - and the marvellous thing is that I'm being invited to join in. The notion that Mozart would have expected me to disregard the emotional content doesn't feel right at all. It's coming from him. That's the key, I think. Are we bouncing our own feelings off the music, or are they coming in to us from 'outside'? In the case of the violin sonatas the music and the joy are so interconnected that I wouldn't know how to separate them even if I wanted to. The music is the source of the joy and the joy is the reason for the music.

Quote from: Elgarian on December 13, 2009, 12:29:35 AM
I was hoping that now you'd be able to explain to me what it is that we've been talking about....

Quote from: some guy on December 16, 2009, 02:10:46 PM
Hmmm. Let's let jochanaan or Brahmsian do that, eh?...

I thought we had fairly well established that it couldn't be explained... ;D

Quote from: jochanaan on December 17, 2009, 07:19:22 AM
I thought we had fairly well established that it couldn't be explained... ;D

Exactly. In failing to understand, we all understand each other perfectly. Wittgenstein would congratulate us in having kicked the ladder away, now that we've reached the top of it and recognised the nonsense of it all.

???

Curiously, Alan, your mention of Wittgenstein coincides tidily with my re-reading (only this very week) of Saints and Scholars by Terry Eagleton.

Quote from: k a rl h e nn i ng on December 17, 2009, 09:33:50 AM
your mention of Wittgenstein coincides tidily with my re-reading (only this very week) of Saints and Scholars by Terry Eagleton.

I haven't read it - is it any good? I've been dipping into the Tractatus yet again (it shows, doesn't it?), but my ladder is still feeling distinctly unsafe, long before I reach the top of it.

Quote from: Elgarian on December 17, 2009, 12:32:18 AMThe kinds of triggers you (we) are suspicious of are the ones that only trigger feelings we're already familiar with. They allow us to 'use' them for a kind of self-gratification which isn't an opening, but a limiting of our experience to what we already know.

Genau. (Well, OK, not exactly exact! I'm suspicious of triggers. What provides me with new things that expand experience is not a trigger. (A trigger can only access the known.))

Quote from: Elgarian on December 17, 2009, 12:32:18 AMI want to keep asserting that [triggering emotions] is partly what [music] is about. On a purely practical basis, a musical ignoramus like myself is only able to enter into the purely musical aspect of music to a very limited degree. I need that emotional involvement to keep me going.

And I want to keep assuring you that I have not ever claimed that the emotional is not a part of the total experience, just that it's not the total of it. That is, I don't think the words "purely musical aspect of music," if they mean anything (and I'm not sure they do), exclude emotional involvement. What I do think is that for many listeners emotional involvement replaces practically everything else. (That is, it is all trigger and nothing else.)

Oh, and you are most obviously NOT a musical ignoramus. Sheesh, what a dolt to even think that!
( ;))

Quote from: Elgarian on December 17, 2009, 09:51:02 AM
I haven't read it - is it any good?

Mildly amusing, if at times a bit ribald.  In this revisitation of it, I find myself a bt more vexed at the degree to which Wittgenstein and Bakhtin are made cartoonish.  It's an easy and diverting read.

Quote from: some guy on December 17, 2009, 09:52:02 AM
And I want to keep assuring you that I have not ever claimed that the emotional is not a part of the total experience, just that it's not the total of it. That is, I don't think the words "purely musical aspect of music," if they mean anything (and I'm not sure they do), exclude emotional involvement. What I do think is that for many listeners emotional involvement replaces practically everything else. (That is, it is all trigger and nothing else.)

Oh yes, I know. I'm assured. I'm not particularly arguing with you at all, really - just sort of poking at our conversation to make sure I understand what I said.

QuoteOh, and you are most obviously NOT a musical ignoramus.

Oh but truly, I am! This is no false modesty, I promise. Music is of enormous importance to me because it takes me on such wonderful journeys, but my musical memory is pitifully poor, and I don't have any real understanding of what's going on. I can talk you under the table if it comes to analysing a pictorial composition, but if you point a quaver, a minim and a key signature at me, I'll surrender the field instantly and flee.