Class Post: Why So Serious?

This in a way, and by pure serendipity, comes on the tuxedo coat tails of my previous non-class post.
The Joker's voice speaks the question in my mind, "Why So Serious?" The title of Ross's most recent article in The New Yorker Such a good question! Reading this I was like, "We should totally rock out during piano recitals!" Then reality got ahold of me and I was like, "I'm never going to get away with that."

Then tonight, also somewhat serendipitously, during the faculty concert, I was both ripped from reality and hurled back again as if in a dream and then awakened suddenly. There were moments in which I forgot that we were supposed to be at a classical concert. It was a rather celebratory concert, fraught with rowdy calls of enthusiastic students and even clapping during, *gasp* a jazz number! As I looked around myself, quite self-consciously I took in the various reactions not only to the music, but the reactions audience members had about each other. I would say that it was divided, although the many unconventional moments were, for the most part, warmly received. It was amusing when a trio of blue-haired ladies in front of me stuck their noses up and looked around disapprovingly when an over zealous student would make an echoing whoop in the hall.

Then it hit me.

It would be great if our generation of academic musical types could somehow learn to outwardly express our enthusiasm for the performers and the music in a way that was both respectful, but sympathetic to the music being performed. That we would not be afraid in other circumstances to allow our love of the music to evoke sounds and gestures from our bodies that have, for our entire musical careers remained statuesque in our seats.

I don't think that it is surprising that Ross, who wrote an accessible book on 20th Century classical music, also wrote an article about the reverence and seriousness with which classical concerts have come to demand. I was thrilled to see his mentioning of it being a 20th century phenomenon. Interesting isn't it, how during a time period of much irreverence, and every growing diversity in music, could render a canon of "concert etiquette" that has nearly brought classical music to a point of near social irrelevance, at least in my humble opinion.

Ross points out that some either find the conventions for a classical performance "reassuringly dependable" or "drearily predictable." It might be easy to judge which way I find it. But I can say, to each his own.
Most interesting to me though is how the culprit for the change in the early days was the middle class, and these days the sustainers of the arts, the ones that keep the concerts formal, are the rich. I liked his description of concerts being a "dance of decorum" for the bourgeois, rather than the "playground" like it was for the aristocracy. This indicates to me, that even though there was a shift in the treatment of concerts, it in a way was still not about the music. Before, there was a concern over being too interested, and afterwards there was a concern over appearance rather than with the music. Music students can attest to the fact that regimented reverence during concerts does not make the music anymore important, and can in fact, cause severe boredom, ending in the doing of homework and/or nap taking.

The solution for the predicament isn't currently clear to me. But it is something I'd like to explore further. I know that when a performer can show interest in a piece, especially when they talk to the audience, a la, Charles Wadsworth and friends, then the audience is more likely to take an active interest in what is happening in the piece. It gives it more relevance than a performer simply placing a Mozart fantasie on a program and going through the motions. No one will really care or remember unless the performer is of exceptional ability or if they, in some way, make the piece their own.

I think that the difference in the faculty recital and any regular recital is that the students knew, undoubtedly, that their teachers cared about the music they were playing. And they knew that they would not be scolded if they cheered for them.
Perhaps it is something to consider when a performer is programming a recital. And especially when students go through the motions of planning their recitals. For me, I chose to give my recital cohesion and relevance to myself be programming an all-sacred recital. It not only gives the recital a character on its own, but also a meaning to the performer as well. I think that will make all the difference for me, and the audience.