Preliminary thoughts for my dissertation

On some level we want to say that the great compositions of, say, Beethoven are in some way 'better' than those of say, Katy Perry whom we had a look at in MMA last year with Martin Dixon
(if you happen to think she's a great contemporary composer you may substitute some other name which fits the bill of simply composed/kitsch music.)

On one hand it's hard to say that it's an objective judgement of quality, because all aesthetic experiences fall into the subjective experience of the person receiving them. On the other hand we know we are making a distinction between we say music is 'bad' music versus music which is 'not my kind of thing.'

Personally I hate swing music. Despite liking something in almost every genre of music I've never been able to cultivate a taste for Swing. But I'm not willing to turn around and say that Quincy Jones was a ‘bad’ arranger when working with Frank Sinatra - he's clearly extremely competent. I just personally don’t like it.

On Sunday night I heard two folk singers sing a song together where each of their parts was incredibly sophisticated with little riffs and inventive harmonies – I was impressed by the counterpoint because I thought (“knew”?) it was qualitatively 'better' than if they'd just harmonised in thirds. Not that harmonising in thirds would be “bad” or “unpleasant” – I just felt like what I was hearing was superior.

While the lay patron could also notice a difference in complexity and might likely agree that the more sophisticated, sung by more practiced singers, was the “better”, it seems I've cultivated a taste that allows me to make more complicated value judgements than non-musicians. I can make a distinction here between say, Burt Bacharach, the composer of great pop tunes, and Burt Bacharach the extremely competent and innovative arranger/composer whose use of complex rhythmical phrasing which was rare in pop music, expressive chord changes and ingenious sequences tantalise my ear as a musician.

This impulse may sometimes lead those of us who know a bit about music hear a song and think - "that would be better if only..." [it included such and such an obviously missing vocal harmony, or they chose this note or that chord instead of the one, or they took]  ...

What are we saying? We're not just saying we'd prefer it, we're arguing that we have a qualified opinion on what would improve the piece of music.

But improve the music how? And to what ends? Is it because the pleasure of enjoying more sophisticated music is greater than enjoying pop on the cosmetic level?

As a theatre critic I have to make value judgments and try to offer feedback, which is hopefully useful - either to the company or the patrons. Both if possible. ("I particularly like the ones which, from beneath the veil of the plot, reveal to the experienced eye some subtle truth that will escape the common herd," - Voltaire in The White Bull.)  I have no doubt that the highest achievement the critic can manage is to point out some subtlety of genius that escapes 'the common herd' so that when they read my writing they have an “Ah!” moment – “Oh my god that is so true/observant.” This act of enlightenment forever changes the viewer and opens their eyes to watching out for similar phenomena in future aesthetic experiences. Their taste is more cultivated. Their standards have been permanently raised.

When it comes to giving negative criticism, much of what I write is all but ubiquitously noted by the audience, the lay person may notice and cringe. At other times I notice things most do not, but as far as I’m concerned they are extremely important, perhaps to the fidelity of the writing. A common example is that often the actors have not sufficiently noted what is said about their character by other characters in the script, and disregarded these hint in their portrayal. Such things may often escape the regular theatre goer because an actor’s performance can be internally consistent without while making this error, so in this way having a cultivated taste could be seen as a liability when it comes to gaining pleasure from an aesthetic experience. Then what nonsense does this make of striving to enlighten people just do they can enjoy theatre less? Surely we want them to enjoy poor theatre less so that they can enjoy good theatre more.

The companies may appreciate such feedback because they want to be 'better' - they appreciate there is somewhere to go. If not what would be the point in improving? Why strive to be capable of a Goldberg variation when any pleasant sounding two-part invention will do?

And then, sophistication isn’t synonymous with quality either. We often also appreciate “the beauty of simplicity.”

What is more, if some of the modernists are to be believed, pleasure is not necessarily even the critical point of the aesthetic experience.

I recall Martin Dixon saying, 'Is that all you want from music?' - paraphrasing the essential sentiment of Adorno as he did

My response is to say, as a thinker living in post-modern times, “may many flowers bloom.” Perhaps pleasure is not the critical point of the aesthetic experience in some cases, and in other cases it is.
While I could never “cultivate” a taste for swing, I once had no taste for Opera but developed a love for it. Most peoples experience of Schoenberg or, "worse still", the more impenetrable moderns is that some study plus considerable exposure is required to "get it".

Adorno commented on the relevance of the techniques used to the music at hand (I will cite an example in my essay most likely as I remember reading him comment on such and such a chord in chamber music being appropriate, but not in such and such another genre.) In this observation he is not alone. His remarks are actually very mainstream: in contemporary times the synths so synonymous with 80s pop music sound disastrously “cheesy” except in pastiche. The “choir” or “harpsichord” settings on your keyboard, anathema to a hard rock band, sounds perfectly appropriate and apt in the European “Viking” or “Gothic” metal genres. Simon Frith, in his essay on “bad music” refers to the kind of “genre confusion” involved with “getting this wrong” as ‘ridiculous music… the gap between what performers/producers think they are doing and what they actually achieve.” Certainly this makes a credible argument for calling music bad that does not draw upon the sophistication of the material – music can be both sophisticated technically and “bad” or “cheesy.”

Adorno’s argument that immanence through self-reference makes music better is extremely compelling, and yet it seems to be presented as self-evident and without argument, which makes it difficult to justify in under the Western analytic tradition. That is the problem I will face if I wish to make use of any of Adorno’s arguments for what is good or bad in music.

5 Days of The Fringe left.

5 days of The Fringe left. 5 days to see all the shows you don't want to miss. 5 days to hobnob with industry who's whos. 5 days to praise and confound actors, directors, stage managers, technicians, musicians, comedians and those who place themselves somewhere in between as "performance artists." 5 days to buy a bottle of wine for the person whose couch you've last been sleeping on. 5 days to compose a tune you "wrote during the Fringe in two-thousand and twelve man." 5 days to pick-up and say you got a shag when you least expected it. 5 days to heckle a comic and say you got away with it. 5 days to overhear two people saying it was "the best thing they've ever seen" and go see it only to realise they were high or being sarcastic. 5 days to fit it all in. 5 days until you can sit back on your couch and overcome from the cough you've developed from burning the candle at both ends. 5 days till you can turn your eyes to "other projects I've been putting off." 5 days till your feet start recovering. 5 days till you realise a month has passed in no time at all, and you left so much undone before you left. 5 days till reality sets in. 5 days till you realise reality is really not that different at all: just the same thing, with the same feelings, in a different place, with different people, doing different things. 5 days till you can finally relax, or so you tell yourself. 5 weeks before you start having dreams about doing it all again next year.

Recently Published Frigne Reviews:
Bitesize Chekhov @ Merchant's Hall
Salome @ Greenside
The Jhiva of Nietzsche @ The Surgeons' Hall
The Canterville Ghost @ Greenside
Candide @ Church Hill Theatre
Bereavement The Musical @ C Venues