In Defense of Modernism

In Defense of Modernism

Nowadays it is common to hear people say things like: “the death of modernism” and “discredited modernist attitudes of the past” or “humans have a congenital inability to understand anything but tonal music” or “music should be entertainment first”. In contrast, consider the life and work of Anton Webern, who labored in obscurity during an era of chauvinist nationalism in his native Austria and quietly rebuilt the foundations of European concert music by developing the contrapuntal practice and timbral implications of previous work along with serial technique. The extreme brevity of his middle period work was unprecedented in concert music history. The extreme concentration of his musical thought led Stravinsky to call him a “miner of diamonds”. That the importance of his work was almost universally recognized after the Second World War testifies to the truth that modernist music is not impossible to understand.

Music with an experimental consciousness bespeaks a fresh outlook on life and an ongoing development of knowledge. People who appreciate experimental music and other avant garde arts have a kind of openness of mind which comes as a breath of fresh air in a world of hardened attitudes and political positions.

I have come to the conclusion that the current prejudice against experimental music is a result of confusion between music and music theory. Music theories come and go as musicians attempt to explain the musical languages of their times or former times, yet great music of any culture or era has the power to outlast the fashions of the day regardless of which theoretical construct or musical language was used in its composition. That is why we still listen to great music of the past. It speaks to us regardless of the theory the composer knew and practiced, because of the compositional excellence of the composer’s technique and the honesty of his artistic voice.

We deeply respect the poetic art of Shakespeare, but wouldn’t dream of recommending that contemporary poetry should be written in Elizabethan English or use classical forms. Yet a similar attitude prevails among reactionary critics and musicologists who insist on the primacy of earlier musical languages and the impossibility of understanding music conceived with experimental principles. (It is a bit like saying that poetry written in a foreign language couldn’t be any good because it is written in a foreign language.) There is nothing particularly universal about any music theory or language as many pedagogues claim (they are generally repeating the same mistakes they were taught). If any theory were universal, we would see the same musical language used in every culture in every age. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Musical languages are as various as spoken and written languages and they evolve continuously just as the meanings of words keep changing as language is used.

Music theories are not only the result of analysis of past or current practice; some new theories are the result of composers’ need to organize new musical ideas or may make use of conceptual models borrowed from other disciplines. An example of this is Xenakis’ use of probability concepts in the development of his theory of stochastic music.

Music is much more than a form of sonic entertainment; it is also a form of knowledge and wisdom capable of touching humans at the very deepest levels of consciousness. This knowledge aspect of music is continually developing as a kind of scientific understanding, and the aesthetic aspect is timeless, as a conception of beauty. The interaction between these two aspects is the nexus of artistic creation in music. Composition, performance and listening all take part in this creation.

The primary message of a musical composition (from the smallest details of its sound world to the design of its macrostructure) is realized according to the intention of its creator. This is so true as to seem tautological, but what does it mean? As with any human endeavor the creator’s intention is coded into the creative act and its tangible result. If a person designs and builds an ultra fast racecar, the car will be a result of this intention and will be built accordingly, with special internal parts and racing tires, etc. It will be substantially different from a family sedan or a limousine. This is obvious to a casual observer even though she may be unskilled in the appreciation of the technical details of its construction.

Music that is a part if an historical tradition also embodies the ideas and attitudes attached to its genre. If the composer develops some of those ideas or rejects some, the knowledgeable listener will understand this. The case of experimental music is special. Since Beethoven, there is a tradition of musical experimentation, in which innovation has become a kind of normal expectation of musical genius. (In a certain sense, this is oxymoronic, since innovation and tradition are generally contradictory.) The composer is expected to invent some new sounds, sound combinations, or musical ideas as a normal part of the creative process, and many composers continue this tradition, even though some critics and listeners consider the tradition to be dead or irrelevant.

The experimental work of John Cage represents a high water mark in this respect, since he expanded the notion of music making to include chance operations, nonintentional sound and incorporated silence into music as an essential element. He also introduced the listening strategy of appreciating all sounds (even environmental sounds) for their own sake, quite apart from any musical ideas in the conventional sense. He also incorporated a kind of theatre (different from staged drama and more related to real life) into the process of music making. He regarded the avant garde to be an attitude of mental flexibility.

Some listeners consider the avant garde not to be an attitude of mental flexibility, but a musical language and treat it as just another historical style, which has passed its heyday. The idea of postmodern music as somehow “newer than new” reflects this notion. The ironic detachment of considering the incorporation of older musical ideas to be somehow innovative bespeaks a consideration of musical style above musical substance. Keeping up with the latest trends in musical fashion has become more important than invention of musical ideas and techniques.

Music seems to be unique as an art form in which traditional work is passed off as somehow innovative, or an acceptable practice of performance. Or unusual mixtures of different styles are called new. This attitude would be laughable in the sciences and other arts, but it is the convention in music. Can anyone imagine a visual artist who only painted in the style of Leonardo or a scientist who only reworked the theories of Newton? Our symphony orchestras and opera companies routinely program only the works of past masters or commission new works from composers who use “accessible” (read conservative) musical language, in the hopes of not alienating their moneyed patrons by challenging their unspoken assumptions.