The OLD Philosopher – John M. Miller
March 30, 2018
Enrique Graf is a Uruquayan concert pianist. He has performed all over the world. For years he taught at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh. Now he lives part of the year in Montevideo and the rest of the time in Charleston, SC.
He recently gave a lecture in the Lifelong Learning program of Hilton Head Island about the art of playing the piano. It was one of the most informative lectures on any topic I ever heard, but obviously about music in particular.
In the discussion, he was asked many questions about his craft: how many hours a day does he practice, who are his favorite composers, what are his favorite concert halls, and so on. He answered every question with grace, sufficient length, and clarity.
It was obvious from everything he said that there are many factors in being a successful concert pianist. Two of the most important, he said, are talent and luck. There are many able musicians, but everyone needs assistance from many people to achieve one’s highest goals. Not every outstanding musical artist would say it with such humility.
Knowing that I would be writing this essay after hearing him, I asked Mr. Graf if he had some words of wisdom about the difference between “enjoying” and “knowing” music. Must one have technical knowledge of music fully to appreciate it?
Surprisingly, he said he is much more an enjoyer of music than someone who has an expansive knowledge of the history, science, and techniques involved in producing great music. He received a C in music history, he said. Nonetheless, it was evident from everything he told us that he has a very broad knowledge of music, even if he feels he “enjoys” it more or better than he “knows” it.
Most people enjoy certain composers or performers or singers more than others. But most of us would be hard pressed to explain why. Are there particular musical or artistic reasons behind our preferences, or do we just prefer them?
I never seriously attempted to learn to play any musical instruments. Had I done so, I am convinced I would have spent countless fruitless hours in the attempt. However, I am enthralled to hear anyone else play virtually any instrument well. But “well” can only be defined by my technically limited understanding of what “well” means.
Orchestral music is my favorite type of instrumental music. Chamber music, instrumental quartets, or solo instruments are also highly enjoyable. Vocal music is equally pleasurable.
I sang in choirs throughout my early life, and occasionally in later life. To be singing in a choir in the midst of a glorious piece of music gloriously sung has been among the most inspiring and uplifting experiences of my earthly existence.
But why? Why do we like what we like? And why do we dislike what we dislike? Is there any objectivity to any of it, or is it all subjective?
By this late stage in my own life, I tend to remember voices or musicians from the past more than the present, because I am not “up” on nearly as many contemporary musicians, composers, or singers as I am on those from previous years or periods. That is especially true in popular music, which I never followed very closely. I regularly read about it, but I don’t listen to it very much. I confess that I never did. Yet I don’t really know why.
On the other hand, I remember the music and lyrics of Broadway shows more than any other form of musical literature. Even there, however, certain composers or performers are much more my “thing” than others. Go figure.
Years ago I was given a set of CDs which present a history of musical theater from its earliest days in the nineteenth century to perhaps fifteen years ago. It is fascinating, informative, and educational. Every now and then I take it out for the pure pleasure of listening to the historical progression of musical theater.
The author of the written explanations, Richard Fawkes, does not try to make a case for one composer or type of musical over another. Still, in hearing short snatches of famous songs from famous shows, this lifelong enjoyer of music is deepened in his prejudices about what he likes and does not like, even as he becomes slightly more technically knowledgeable about the evolution of Broadway.
I have observed that some people who are academically very knowledgeable about music seemed the most challenged completely to appreciate anything other than what they consider to be the very best. Furthermore, for some of them, their music appreciation seems to me to be more academic than aesthetic, if such a distinction may be made.
There have been times I wish I had taken courses in music or art appreciation in college, just to learn more about the background of those two exquisite enterprises. I have read articles and books about it, and I have heard individual lectures about it, but I never took Music or Art History 101 or 201. Would I be more appreciative if I had done so?
No doubt there are some musicians who have such an extraordinary gift of talent that they might be better simply doing what they do than by trying to learn more about what they do. I suspect, however, that most musicians need to acquire knowledge of their craft in order to be able to advance in it.
Of one thing I am absolutely certain: There are more enjoyers of music than there are “knowers” of music. Perhaps if it were the other way around, more “knowers” and fewer enjoyers, there would be less music altogether. The knowers might know too much, and the enjoyers too little.
William Congreve wrote, “Music hath charms to sooth the savage breast/ To soften rocks, or bend the knotted oak.” Consciously or subconsciously, Matthew Green carried the thought further. “Music hath charms, we all may find/ Ingratiate deeply with the mind.”
In a somewhat kinder and gentler age than the current one, the United States Supreme Court was asked to adjudicate a case involving alleged pornography in a movie. Justice Potter Stewart observed, “I shall not today attempt further to define the kinds of material I understand to be embraced within that shorthand definition [hard-core pornography], and perhaps I never could succeed intelligibly doing so. But I know it when I see it, and the motion picture involved in this case is not that.”
For many of us, the academic and technical intricacies of music are and shall always be somewhat beyond us. Nevertheless, we know what we like when we hear it, and our technical ignorance may be our hedonistic bliss.
Music is one of the primary nurturers of the human spirit, and especially of my particular spirit. I thank God for it!
John Miller is a writer, author, lecturer, and preacher-for-over-fifty-years who is pastor of The Chapel Without Walls on Hilton Head Island, SC.