How does one cope with such a great responsibility as being a mediator between a master and a listener?
I think this would be a good question. A question that reflects a concern I harbored throughout my years of study. The question raises a problem: that of coping with an immense responsibility; it establishes a premise: there is indeed a "responsibility"; it provides us with a context: there is a connection between a master, their work, and the listener; moreover, it places us at the heart of the problem: being mediators, "bearers" of a message encoded by a master at some point in history. A good answer, therefore, depends on understanding and valuing each of the components of this question.
The greatest challenge I have faced as a music student, however, is precisely the concealment of this question, which does not stem from external forces or third parties but originates in the everyday routine of our musical practice. It is from this concealment that our efforts focus on the sonic reconstruction of a written testimony (the score), which we undertake based on bibliographic sources, study techniques, traditions, and our own musical taste. But even historicizing interpretation and the evolution of musical research are merely an illusion of fidelity if they focus solely on answering questions like "how should this piece sound?" and "how does it work/how is this piece structured?"
I hope I am not misunderstood, as I fully understand that our task as professional musicians is precisely to translate what is written on paper into sound. However, the questions mentioned above limit the horizon of understanding and the significance of our musical activity in time and space.
The first of these questions ultimately concerns the performance of the work, and thus its answer is technical and suggests a way to proceed. Without diminishing the artistic work involved in preparing a musical performance, if we view this question from this perspective, the training of the interpreter risks falling into a painful pragmatism: study takes on a functional character, and only what contributes to answering the question deserves attention. This even affects the degree of engagement with the subject, establishing parameters that suggest there is no need to go further. It is no surprise, then, that under this way of thinking, our field is increasingly populated by so-called "specialists." Knowledge for the sake of knowledge, universal knowledge, the idea of the "Academy" has been lost.
In a world as sophisticated as the one we are building, governed by science and its exact data, technical knowledge, and the promise of constant revision, it is easy to forget that, despite all this, it is our own understanding that moves the world. It is not the data itself, but the sublimation of reflection into an idea that drives the human being. If the new interpreters' idea of what it means to make music arises from the question "how should this work sound?", it is no wonder that their actions align with the search for an answer and end where they consider that need satisfied. It would suffice to ask the various teachers at music conservatories, both those who teach the basic foundations of music (solfège, theory, harmony, counterpoint, analysis, etc.) and those in research subjects (musicology, history, aesthetics, etc.), about the level of interest they perceive in their students.
The truth is that, like so many other aspects of life, musical training has become a "means to an end" rather than an end in itself, thus losing its value. It is no surprise, then, to find students seeking the easiest courses to earn the necessary credits or to hear phrases like "that's what they ask for in the audition," which seems to evade any need to go further. As is to be expected in any system, every action has consequences, and it is inevitable that, in the long run, both teachers and students end up reacting to one another, leading to a deterioration of education itself. This creates a success-oriented system, more akin to professional training than proper artistic education, where students seek to finish their studies as quickly as possible to enter the workforce, establishing a priori a scale of values when allocating their time and effort to each subject. This way of acting can affect teacher feedback, leading to burnout over time and thus entering a vicious but functional cycle, from which generations of excellent musical technicians emerge, whose success in the workforce validates the current way of proceeding, perpetuating the illusion.
The other question, "How does it work / how is this work composed?", while it can frame a specific score within a context of common practices or certain aesthetic ensembles, even within the universe of a composer, does not stop asking about a specific work, isolated from contexts and other elements. Moreover, as a question, it is timeless and depersonalized. By this, I mean that what seeks to be understood is not the object of study itself, whether Beethoven's "Eroica" or Mozart's "C Major Sonata," but the "functioning" itself as an infinitive verb. Thus, it makes no difference whether what is to be understood is a Renaissance work, a newly written contemporary piece to be premiered in two weeks, or the electrical circuit that makes this computer work.
But after this detour, we return to the initial question of this essay: "How does one cope with such a great responsibility as being a mediator between a master and a listener?" As we have seen, this is a question that contains a profound problem, requiring a structural review of musical practice and the training of future musicians. However, in my opinion, this question does not demand, in the first instance, a procedural answer, something like a step-by-step plan; nor does it demand an answer that revolutionizes current musical practice.
This may seem like a contradiction, but it is not. Today, musical practice has reached a higher technical level than ever before: advances in contemporary music (not only in our contemporaneity but in the contemporaneity of every past cycle) have driven unprecedented technical development, making works that were once reserved for virtuosos part of the standard repertoire of any student; the development of industry and technology has given us access to better and relatively more accessible instruments, expanding sonic horizons; musical research and the progress of critical editions have brought us closer, within the limits of possibility, to an understanding of the sonic ideal of the past, allowing us today to be more faithful to past practices.
On the other hand, devising a plan with a series of actions aimed at changing the current situation can become an insurmountable challenge if, as we have seen, we are not even aware that a problem exists. What would we gain from a plan offering practical solutions to a problem of philosophical understanding? Would this be solved by forcing students to take more courses or increasing the difficulty of certain subjects?
Thus, change does not come from the concrete actions we can take but from our understanding of the reality in which these actions are framed. As Luis Heinecke Scott explains in his book "Strategic Intelligence Method":
"According to their nature, the manifestations of human life are realized in a material and an immaterial dimension of existence. The material dimension corresponds philosophically to the order of extensive, impenetrable substances capable of receiving all kinds of forms. The immaterial dimension corresponds to the non-material order, realized both in the sensation or impression that things produce in the soul through the senses and in thought or the faculty of reflecting on something to form an opinion or judgment about it. In turn, within the realm of thought, a distinction is made between physical thought, which corresponds to the physical process activated by thinking, and metaphysical thought, which corresponds to the abstract process of thought.
Thus, a comprehensive understanding of reality requires a balanced consideration of both the material and immaterial dimensions of human existence. Furthermore, adequate knowledge and understanding of human reality imply careful and special consideration of the immaterial categories that constitute it. The process of understanding reality must not be reduced to the mere consideration of the manifestations of the physical dimension of reality, nor to a diminished appreciation of immaterial factors. Any alteration in the process of understanding reality will produce a distorted or deformed knowledge and understanding of it, limiting or even making its integral and organic comprehension impossible.
Likewise, the process of understanding reality also requires a balanced understanding of all the orders that constitute the immaterial dimension of human reality. This involves understanding the process of physical thought, that is, the organic process that the human brain develops for this purpose. But certainly, it is not enough to define the elements of biology and psychology in themselves to understand the complete human reality. An adequate understanding of human reality requires a simultaneous and specific consideration of the metaphysical order, that is, the process of abstract thought.
At this point, it must be understood that mind and brain are not the same, as thought essentially differs from sensory knowledge. The latter is realized through bodily organs, while intelligence is an inorganic faculty that knows things in an immaterial way.
Thus, intelligence undoubtedly has organic conditions, such as nerves and the brain; but conditions are not causes. If the brain or the nervous center constituting the encephalon is the physical organ that allows the organic processing of thought, it must be noted that, as a mechanism enabling such a process, it does not correspond to or equal the abstract product resulting from its operation.
Concretely, the brain is the necessary material condition for intelligence, but it is not the organ of intelligence, because intelligence grasps ideas that are immaterial and no material organ can grasp them. Intelligence itself is, therefore, inorganic. Thus, although both are human manifestations that require each other and are complementary, since one cannot exist without the other, they are not the same and have different functions.
Therefore, special attention must be paid to metaphysical thought, as it is the decisive factor in shaping consciousness and directing human behavior. Metaphysical thought occupies a central position in the process of rationalizing reality and is, therefore, the basis of the cultural phenomenon. Indeed, understanding is the faculty that integrates, rationalizes, and confers reason and meaning to both the physical and metaphysical dimensions of human beings and their reality. (...)
Although the entirety of reality is the object of human understanding, it is necessarily particularized in relation to the human act, that is, in relation to the human being as a cause. Considering that in human action a distinction is made between the so-called facts of man (involuntary acts corresponding to human reflex operations, in which neither understanding nor will are involved) and the acts of man (voluntary acts corresponding to human operations, in which understanding and will are involved), the act of understanding is directed especially to the latter, as it is in them that the faculties of understanding and will primarily intervene, that is, reason and freedom enter into transcendental play, categories that make the act properly human. Intentional human acts arise from reflective thought or careful consideration of things. (...)
Metaphysical thought has a structure that demonstrates its transcendental impact on human life and, at the same time, defines essential levels of understanding of human reality. Only its complex and complete consideration allows a substantive approach to the reality of things. Without further ado, metaphysical thought is composed of a theological dimension, a philosophical dimension, an ideological dimension, and a political-formal dimension. (...)
Thus, the process of understanding reality, to be coherent and consistent and to aspire to constitute a higher knowledge to which it tends by nature, requires a systematic, complete, and integrated consideration of all the dimensions of metaphysical thought. Theological knowledge becomes the foundation of philosophical knowledge, the latter the basis of ideological knowledge, and, in turn, the cause of political knowledge. Thus, a complete knowledge and understanding of the political can only be achieved through sufficient knowledge and understanding of the ideological, philosophical, and theological aspects that constitute it." (Scott, 2009)
From the above, we can understand that it is our understanding of reality and the concepts of good and truth that, after due reflection, will establish a value judgment that guides the individual's will toward formal actions. In this way, a chain of processes is established that leads us from understanding to action itself. Thus, if what we want to analyze is the origin and motivations of the actions of a particular group, we must first ask about their belief system, their way of thinking, their code of values, etc.
In my view, the problem with the classical music system is that the formal actions undertaken are not integrated into a broader and higher understanding of thought. According to Heinecke Scott's explanation, there is no organicity between the philosophical, ideological, and political-formal dimensions (concrete actions). As we observed at the beginning of this essay, from the moment reflection was reduced to questions like "how should this work sound?" and "how does this work function?", there ceased to be a space in which a deeper reflection on music and our musical practice could develop.
The solution, perhaps, lies in reviving musical reflection in academia. It is there, in the training center for future musicians, where transcendental questions for the future of music must be addressed. Questions like "what is music?", "what is the role of art in our community?", "what is the meaning of performing music from past eras, and what significance does it have for our present and future?" must move from the isolated offices of a few thinkers to the cafeterias, courtyards, and classrooms.
Musical reflection and discussion must be the hallmark of the music academy of the future.
Only in this way can we produce complete musicians, not mere instrumentalists, and, with some luck, regain the helm from the hands of those "art functionaries," cultural managers, and artistic representatives who have taken on more weight than the artists themselves, steering this system toward a ruthless business format that, in the long run, harms art, artists, and the public.
Bibliography
Scott, L. H. (2009). Strategic Intelligence Method. Relationship Belief, Culture and Society. Santiago de Chile: INIE Editores.
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