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"Of the arts necessary
to life which furnish a concrete result there is carpentry, which
produces the chair; architecture, the house; shipbuilding, the ship;
tailoring, the garment; forging, the blade. Of useless arts there
is harp playing, dancing, flute playing [also piano and organ
playing?] of which, when the operation ceases, the result disappears
with it. And indeed, according to the word of the apostle, the
result of these is destruction."
The above quotation from one of the early fathers of the church has
been grinning at me from atop
one of the pages
of this website for some time. This is just the tip of a rather
uncivil iceberg; a few other examples of persons of eminent standing
thinking of musicians as generally low quality people can be found
on these pages, culled from a vast mine of such writings. Not that
musicians, despite a long history of being disparaged, are alone:
probably someone can be found who thinks of your own profession
(whatever it is) as completely useless, and possibly destructive. Of
course, when you add a religious dimension to that, you get personal
opinions to the 3rd power. One of the things I find funny
is how Basil ends his diatribe. Not only is musical activity of no
use, but it leads ‘to destruction.’ And it isn’t just his opinion.
St. Paul said it. Case closed.
Actually, I haven’t combed the epistles lately looking for the
source of this epithet, but my suspicion is that Basil is doing the
usual religious-commentator/church father thing of taking what was
in the text and adding some additional steps to it. In other words,
Paul probably sums up one of his ‘sin lists’ by saying ‘the result
of these is destruction.’ Maybe ‘sloth’ is part of the list. Basil
figures playing music is a slothful activity, therefore music=sloth
(according to him) and sloth=destruction (according to Paul),
therefore music=destruction. Paul didn’t say it but that is surely
what he meant, right?
I’ve including the quotation at the top of one of my pages on which
there are several recordings. According to Basil, the reason music
is a ‘useless’ activity is because as soon as you stop playing ‘the
result disappears.’ I wonder what he would have thought if he had
known that, some centuries hence, we would be able to capture the
sound and therefore the result would not disappear. The sounds I
made last June can still be heard for an indefinite period into the
future. I think this is pretty cool.
There is no longer anything new about this and therefore I am
supposed to take it for granted, but I still like to be grateful for
it anyway. Brightens my day a little, and the rainy, gloomy day on
which I am typing this needs a little brightening.
But human inventiveness doesn’t stop there. These days, it is even a
question whether you need to make the recording at all--or, at
least, how you make it.
A few months ago I mentioned the wide world
of virtual organ sounds. There are a number of websites and Youtube
channels devoted to recordings made on virtual organs, some of which
feature recorded sounds from the famous organs of the world. One of
those enterprises is called Hautpwerk, and it was created by the
husband of the previous organist at my church, interestingly enough.
Some of them appear to originate from a human being playing a
keyboard with virtual software to simulate the sound of those
world-famous organs; however in some cases I suspect (this is rarely
made clear) the music is chiefly programmed in (this is not really
that new--MIDI files started allowing this about, what, 20 years
ago?). Can you tell the difference? There was a time when anybody
with a decent ear (which was already sort of a problem for a
professional because a lot of people don’t have one and therefore
would not notice) would be able to tell if a ‘robot’ was playing the
music. A human being would have a clear advantage, because a ‘robot’
would do absolutely none of the phrasing or make any of the scores
of interpretive decisions that are absolutely necessary to even the
most apparently objective approach. Even the most diehard ‘let the
music speak for itself’ reading does not hold literally to the exact
relationship of every quarter note to every half-note on the page
without pausing a bit for air between music phrases, and to inflect
the more important notes slightly so that there is a sense of
musical syllabification, and a sense of goal. Tension, relaxation,
overall meaning, expression of various kinds: you don’t get these
without imposing something that isn’t among music’s diacritical
marks. You have to bring something to the music.
And people are: these days, software is sophisticated enough to
allow human beings to make enough decisions to make the recordings
sound more human. Hear that slight prolongation of the bass note
(for emphasis)? That wasn’t scanned in; a human being put it there,
for a musical reason, even if he or she programmed it in. Add to
that the fact that the virtual instruments sound a whole lot more
realistic than they used to, and you have a whole new ballgame.
I’m not particularly well versed in this area, since I make my
recordings the old-fashioned way, by pushing my digits against the
plastic levers of a mechanical instrument and recording the
resultant sounds with microphones, but the way some of these popular
programs work seems to eliminate one thing: the need to learn how to
play an instrument. And that seems like it might be a bit of a
concern. I mean, I went to school for years to do what I do, and you
are getting more or less the same result without needing to learn
any of that?
Making things all the more complicated is the fact that many of the
recordings made on 'virtual' organs were actually played by human
beings--in some cases, some very good ones. But then, there are some
which were programmed in, and did not require a musician at all. How
long until you can scan a score and the machine will play it? My
Finale composition software will already play what I've written
simply by hitting a button, but it's not very convincing. Ditto to
some of the virtual recordings on Youtube. They sound like they are
being played by machines. But the machines are getting a lot better.
Sometimes it is not so easy to tell the difference. As if organ
manufacturers didn't have enough to worry about these days! The new
ways of doing things facilitate a whole lot of interesting, and
sometimes great, things (I recently heard a stellar performance by a
terrific organist in his livingrom on a virtual organ, but then,
I've heard a whole lot of junk, too). But they make it harder on the
craftsmen as well. Virtual organs are much cheaper, and who but the
most discriminating ears can tell the difference? Virtual organs are
cheaper, and so are virtual organists!
I imagine that in some ways this encroachment upon another’s area of
expertise is somewhat like my running this website without knowing
very much about html code or java script, or my putting recordings
on the web without being a recording engineer, or putting my
compositions into printed form without needing a publisher. I can
see how this represents a problem on several levels for the
professionals in many areas. And, since I’m on the other side of the
argument in these areas, the amateur side, I can see how not needing
to know all these things can be liberating. It appears that, as the
world keeps on turning, we are all destined to be amateurs in more
and more things, and, miraculously, can get results that are not too
far removed from the ones the professionals are getting, or at
least, close enough that most of us won't be able to tell.
But if the performer is starting to lose his unique status in
bringing a musical composition about, what about the composer?
If you haven’t noticed this already, people
are training computers to write music as well. This isn’t a
new idea either (actually, I spent a couple of unproductive
afternoons as a child trying to teach my little home computer to
make up tunes on its own, but the results stopped well short of Cole
Porter), but, just like on the performance end, it is starting to
improve. The last demonstration I saw of this, however,
still sounded like a machine trying to
be creative, despite the claims of the inventor. I’ll grant that it
is many steps superior to what came before, but I still didn’t get
the sense that the computer had mastered the finer points of
structure; to be fair, a lot of human beings aren’t doing a whole
lot better. But suggesting your computer is the next Tchaikovsky is
an over-reach, though again, there may be a lot of members of the
public who couldn’t tell.
I expect it to take
longer for a computer to be able to duplicate intelligent creative
work than re-creative work. But some of that depends on the
direction our creative philosophy takes us, and much of 20th century
creative philosophy has indeed paved the way for machines to make
their mark. Who could blame them for seeing their opportunity and
capitalizing on it? If art is to be more of a mélange, without an
overarching guiding principle, than who says a computer can't
randomly generate something that humans themselves are striving
mightily to randomly generate?
In the middle of the last century, John Cage and others were
divorcing human will from the act of composition. Allowing art to be
whatever is around us rather than imposing ourselves on our
environment may be a useful--and liberating—idea in lots of ways.
And although it has never caught the public fancy, exactly, or
rewritten the definition of art except among a minority, these ideas
continue to spawn compositions.
One of the composers who works in this area
is on the faculty at the University of Illinois. I had a
conversation with him in which I asked what sorts of styles young
composers were writing in these days. Are they tonal? He said “We
don’t encourage this.” If you are out of the loop, the vast majority
of the music on mine, or anybody else’s website feels like it has a
center, and a series of relationships among the notes: predictable
ones, generally. “A-tonality,” which was largely the invention of
Arnold Schoenberg in the early 20th century, flourished
around the middle of the century, and then saw hordes of composers
return to music ‘in a key.’ There are many—perhaps most—of us for
whom it is now atonal music that is the historical cul-de-sac,
rather than all of the previous ‘tonal’ music which the disciples of
this new way of thinking said was outmoded and, in so much
academicese, so ‘over.’
After our conversation I thought I’d read up on some of the
interesting computer-involved music he talked about, and I came
across a magazine article in which he roundly declared that the very
act of predetermining (i.e., planning) a composition was part of the
‘old way’ of doing things. I had to laugh, because it occurred to me
that the very act of putting down a phalanx of words in a particular
order, making choices about their use and placement, was what
allowed him to communicate his ideas in the first place. Why is
music to be separate from other forms of communication? (unless
perhaps it is not to be viewed so at all).
James Joyce may have stretched grammar and punctuation a bit
in some of his work, but I don’t know any novelists who toss coins
and put letters on a page accordingly (maybe I just need to get out
more).
At any rate, human beings have had to make a lot of adjustments In
the last two centuries, and it is hardly considered even proper
behavior to lament that the ‘machines are coming’ (except in
reactionary sci-fi movies; get with it guys, that’s been done). But
every so often we do look back and they seem to be gaining on us. In
new and unexpected ways. And at the same time helping us to do
things we could never have done without them.
I figure at least part of my gainful employment is secure: as a
church musician, I have to make so many adjustments, play in so many
styles, make so many quick decisions, that I imagine it will take a
while before a computer can do what I do in toto. There’s an organ
in town that will record what you play and reproduce it at the touch
of a button (and others that will play downloaded midi files which
can be purchased like a recording and may or may not have been
performed by a human being to begin with). But put everything
together that I do and it still takes a human being. So far they
aren't making accompanists that can adjust to the soloist, skipped
beats, held notes, dynamic changes, and all, though they seem to be
working on that one too (and there is some software that will do
this to some extent). And just in case you feel like going to a live
concert, you will probably want or need a person to play the music.
Lip-syncing scandals in the pop world aside, I doubt the New York
Philharmonic could get away with playing a recording. I think we
could say the same for piano soloists, too. We may not get most of
our music live anymore, but we still want to think it originated
with a human being. Even when we don't really need one, I think we
still want one anyway, right guys?
Right?
(Don’t make me nervous.) In the meantime, I’ll just keep practice
and playing and recording as much as I can, and keep being a part of
this enormous conversation. I’ll get back to you in 50 years about
how the world has changed. If I’m still around then. You know what,
make it 20. We probably won’t recognize it by then, anyway. Till
then I’ll just keep doing what I do, human, technology and all. And
if my fingers fall off before 2061, I probably won’t need them by
then anyway. |