"The experience of music is founded on the ability to listen. Musicians listen to their instruments. Ensemble performers listen to their fellow musicians. Audiences listen to music being made. Close your eyes and hear music. Composers listen to their imaginations. And they listen to the world."
Words by Paavali Jumppanen, ANAM Artistic Director
Music is, but music also reflects. What does it reflect? Consider polyphony: think about JS Bach and the many intricate, mesmerising musical tapestries he wove. Does Bach's music simply reflect the ingenious maneuvering of voices in his imagination, or rather, is it a reflection and projection of his beliefs? Bach said that every note he composed was for the glory of God. Was Bach listening to God?
What about Beethoven? To some, the Eroica Symphony captures the essence of the era of Napoleon. It is a sonic amalgam of crisis, conflict, and hope in Europe after the French Revolution. So, what was Beethoven listening to when he composed the Symphony? And what are we listening to in the work today? An enthusiastic demonstration of the flare of Viennese classicism? Or perhaps something more profound, echoes from our societal past peppered with ethics and ideals linked to the French Revolution? Could there exist a musical expression of a pursuit for freedom and equality embedded in the Eroica? Could that explain why we are still drawn to the Symphony? Are we listening to an era reflected in wordless sound?
In a world overflowing with beauty, music is exceptional at the task of reflecting it. Twentieth century music has taught us that music can also delve into what’s murkier about the world. BartoĢk’s piano cycle Out of Doors revisits the idea of ‘pastoral’ music which was embraced by numerous composers who preceded him. The movement’s titles suggest the pleasures of the bucolic, but during the piece, the listener encounters periods of denial. For example, the second movement, Barcarolle, begins with brief allusions to the lulling beauties of a traditional boat-on-the-water piece, but the music soon lapses into a kind of absentminded vertigo and
a psychological dead-end. The cycle’s first movement, With Drums and Pipes, includes imitations of militant percussion instruments. The finale, The Chase, is no aristocratic sport but instead a devastating manhunt. Overall, the cycle speaks to isolation, suspicion, and even outright danger. Composed in the 1920s, when the horrors of World War I were still tantamount, the composer may have been listening to echoes from the European fields.
Since music is a reflection of the world, should we think about what in the world is worth reflecting upon? The Finnish composer, Kaija Saariaho, who passed away recently, was a patient and thoughtful listener to the instruments for which she composed. She worked tirelessly on revealing the heart of string instruments' resonances and built an original and idiosyncratic aesthetic – sometimes with eerie effect, and other times through tender drones. She was also a careful listener to the world. In her operas, she tells disarmingly touching stories of unprepossessing people attending to their lives amid worldly turmoil, political and economic chauvinism, war and poverty.
Listening, clearly, is multi-directional. Ranging from purely musical to worldly and all of it is important. The great composers we’ve learned to admire, however, have shown that listening to the world is essential in creating the compelling beauty found in music. Composers focus their listening on the events and people directly
around them.
To bring this idea into an Australian context, we should consider the important worldly phenomena upon which we should focus our listening. For me personally, these issues include the environment, 21st century moral values, and the people with whom we come in contact. If every generation of musicians in its turn is responsible for molding the art-form, the heart of our task right now is to develop a heightened awareness of what’s important in the world around us. How to start?
By listening.
First published in volume 48 of Music Makers.
You can hear Paavali Jumppanen perform in Brett Dean's Polysomnography and Mozart's Quintet for Piano and Winds in E-flat at Mostly Mozart: Drama of the Winds, at the Melbourne Recital Centre on Tuesday 21 September, 11am.