Oct 2012
Muse
24/10/12 13:47
Music Giver, banging ‘round
hummingbird in my brain-cage
Bled out my nose, eyes, ears, mouth
still wet music on my page.
-Ashlee
hummingbird in my brain-cage
Bled out my nose, eyes, ears, mouth
still wet music on my page.
-Ashlee
Comments
Good/Bad/Right/Wrong...What?
22/10/12 13:49
How do we determine what “sounds good” versus what “sounds bad” anymore? What prejudices are professors passing down to students when pronouncing that a piece of music is “bad”? What is this doing for the future of music?
I had an experience last year presenting my music that started me thinking about this:
Upon entering my current educational institution, I wanted to start out with a little smack in the face. So, for my first premiere, I performed a pre-recorded piece for ten televisions. The visual content was an installation art piece I’d seen months before during my final undergraduate days, and the artist very kindly consented to give me a copy of the visuals enabling me to compose alongside it. The visuals consisted of a single movie played in the round on multiple screens depicting the artist walking down a somewhat busy street in the rain and stopping, every once in a while, to bury roadkill.
I’m sure your eyebrows just sprang to your hairline, yes?
I do not deny that the concept is morbid, but for the majority of the video, we merely see the artist walking along the road with the camera trained on her feet from directly overhead. In the round, the piece gives the impression of constant journeying; this is what moved me to create accompanying music.
I composed a 14-minute (the length of the film) single flute line designed to contrapuntally interact with itself when played on those multiple televisions. The line was simple, repetitive, minimalistic, and softly sweet. The piece is meant to be listened to in a relaxed fashion, with the moments of burying roadkill containing just enough angst to jolt the audience out of a sleepy stupor.
Upon presenting this piece to a group at my educational institution, I was met with violent reactions on either side of the spectrum--some loved my daring and originality, others sneered at my “New York” style of outrageous, avante-garde audio pollution. And I looked at both groups, overwhelmed with sadness. Those who jeered my work had studied with professors I’d heard express similar opinions. And those who praised me worked with professors who explored modernity. Of course, this is too general an impression, but in essence, the room was divided down these lines.
Do my beliefs, my opinions, my thoughts about music composition and its world come from me? Or are they learned behaviors? Are these critics and supporters of my work thinking for themselves, coming to their own conclusions, or merely professing like parrots the beliefs of those who control their academic future? Who is to say what is “good” and “bad” music?
Who is to say?
I had an experience last year presenting my music that started me thinking about this:
Upon entering my current educational institution, I wanted to start out with a little smack in the face. So, for my first premiere, I performed a pre-recorded piece for ten televisions. The visual content was an installation art piece I’d seen months before during my final undergraduate days, and the artist very kindly consented to give me a copy of the visuals enabling me to compose alongside it. The visuals consisted of a single movie played in the round on multiple screens depicting the artist walking down a somewhat busy street in the rain and stopping, every once in a while, to bury roadkill.
I’m sure your eyebrows just sprang to your hairline, yes?
I do not deny that the concept is morbid, but for the majority of the video, we merely see the artist walking along the road with the camera trained on her feet from directly overhead. In the round, the piece gives the impression of constant journeying; this is what moved me to create accompanying music.
I composed a 14-minute (the length of the film) single flute line designed to contrapuntally interact with itself when played on those multiple televisions. The line was simple, repetitive, minimalistic, and softly sweet. The piece is meant to be listened to in a relaxed fashion, with the moments of burying roadkill containing just enough angst to jolt the audience out of a sleepy stupor.
Upon presenting this piece to a group at my educational institution, I was met with violent reactions on either side of the spectrum--some loved my daring and originality, others sneered at my “New York” style of outrageous, avante-garde audio pollution. And I looked at both groups, overwhelmed with sadness. Those who jeered my work had studied with professors I’d heard express similar opinions. And those who praised me worked with professors who explored modernity. Of course, this is too general an impression, but in essence, the room was divided down these lines.
Do my beliefs, my opinions, my thoughts about music composition and its world come from me? Or are they learned behaviors? Are these critics and supporters of my work thinking for themselves, coming to their own conclusions, or merely professing like parrots the beliefs of those who control their academic future? Who is to say what is “good” and “bad” music?
Who is to say?