Do It Immediately!

I wish that every time I think of something I want to write about here, it could somehow get written straight from my brain. But I don't think the Internet is that advanced yet.

I very much think that every time something comes into your mind it's for a good reason so that's the time to go and attend to it. If itis something useful, that is.

Saving it for later often means it gets forgotten about!

However, computers do get turned off from time to time (at least once a day, for example) and if that is the same time that I'm having an idea, then...it explains why there hasn't been much to read lately!

So that's something to work on, too. I wonder what I can do?

Ideas Test

I think this "Language of Music" idea is helping me understand music. I have no intention of carving out some "great theory" like people seem to enjoy producing, but it seems that there are things to be discovered, and here I am discovering them.

Ideas come bit by bit and it's very helpful to test them out by writing them down or explaining them to somebody. So today I can say "thank you!" to you for enduring this trial-by-blog. I hope it's not too trying!

There are some concerto exams happening at a nearby music college with "Academy" in the name, so I have been going over there to play several orchestral arrangements. They normally require re-arrangement because they are always so horribly difficult and also sometimes miss out important notes but include bad ones, in the wrong place. To make a generalisation, the old Peters editions on the whole have more playable arrangements (old-style transcription still being in force here), while the new Henle Urtext ones are basically a bit more logical with respect to reproducing the notes of the original, as well as being a bit easier so more people can play them. I hope that's of some use to somebody somewhere.

I am also glad to report the return of the sunshine!!

I don't know how we have survived without it. Now I am requesting more heat, please.

I'm sure it will come when it's ready. Perhaps it needs a bit of encouragement though?

The Language of Music

It's hard to explain impossible things to you.

But the reason one person writes to another is that there is something he needs to tell that person, something which he thinks the other person doesn't know. The only problem is that when a fact is an unknown fact, it is hard to understand. In fact it may be impossible to understand - it will take a lot of problems and hard work to finally see what it was. Sometimes, indeed, you can't just tell someone the answer they need, because they won't understand without actually discovering the answer for themselves. That's why we have symbols like mazes and spirals. Labyrinths were popular in ancient art. Popularity comes when something resonates with many people, no matter what the intention behind it. In this case, the Labyrinth is a journey you must follow until it is solved - there is not normally a short way through.

The Labyrinth is a part of the ear, too.

When we hear music we can identify patterns. Without them, it would probably be noise. But as long as we can fit the sound to a pattern we feel there is some sense behind it. We keep creating possible patterns to fit to the stimulus, trying to find a match for one or more templates that we have stored, or creating a new one based on the incoming material. So although I said we try to find a fit, really we are creating the pattern that we hear. The sound is what it is, but the pattern is our own. Listen to noise and see how soon you start to hear words. They may not be there as such, but we are looking (listening) for them.

So we may find there is sense at the first hearing of a piece of music. That depends on what experience we have. Whatever the case, we will try and we will find something. But you might end up saying, no, I just couldn't make anything of it. Like the ladies in the Wigmore Hall who laughed at the 'wrong notes' in a Webern piece - which was written in 1899! I was there, you can believe me.

There are "dissonant" cases where the music is too different from the listener's internal templates and antagonism results. Of course, the dissonance is not necessarily a question of some dissonance in the music's harmonic idiom - I was referring to the dissonance between what they are hearing and what they might expect to make sense, or what they have heard before and got used to. But on the whole the music one hears is mostly more or less familiar - you tend to recognise it as music, and more particularly as "our music". Statistically we are more likely to hear music we already recognise, of course - because statistically we will stay in more or less the same place.

Recognition comes then, somewhat or a lot. You can tell there is a loud bit coming up because it starts getting louder. It started quiet so you know it will be quiet for a bit. Or after learning a bit more, you know that if it is quiet, it might stay quiet or might SUDDENLY get loud. You start to learn what the options might be. And if you know a bit about music you might here where the harmony is going. You might recognise the sort of "subject" the composer is thinking of. Of course there is not a subject, it is music not words, but there are associations and special patterns we notice. It might be something clear like the sound of a bird (the cuckoo in Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony) or something ambiguous like the sound of water or wind in a Schubert song. It might be a topic like "military" (Chopin Polonaise) or "exotic" (Debussy Pagodas) or "academic" (Handelian fugue in Mozart or Beethoven). Whatever it is, you learn, and then finally you understand. It can take repeated hearings to get there though - although most do not try after the first attempt. And sometimes there is no attempt! (What are the chances of success there I wonder?)

All of these insights come with practise and understanding. Some come with learning and knowledge.

They say that a child's mind is a clear mind. They say a child will see the obvious when everyone else convinces themselves otherwise or trips themselves up in tangles of thought and blind guesses. That's why there is the famous story of The Emperor's New Clothes. Maybe it's funny, I don't know. I'm sure no-one believes it could ever really happen. But that's the shock you get when you realise it's happening all the time. Look at what people are doing around you now. A little or a lot, helping or un-helping, but they are certainly taking a lot of different approaches to the maze of their life. Certainly the mazes are different, but can all the people be right? The child says: I thought you had to get to the centre. (Does that mean it is easier than it seemed?)

Yes, you try to hear some sense in the sound coming in. But we are in luck, because the person who created it all - the composer - put sense in at the beginning. So we are in with a fighting chance!

I am convinced that we can understand music purely by paying attention to what the composer has put in it. That's the approach I took when I wrote about Evryali, and it's how I try to understand music on a daily basis. The significance of this is that it doesn't matter how much you know before you get started. Knowledge came down to us because other people noticed things; that means we can notice them too. But it will take a long time if we try to understand the knowledge AS WELL as the music. That's two jobs, you see. Fortunately I have tried to understand the music, afflicted with only a slight knowledge of the technical processes involved. (That's not a joke, I really don't know much!). That's why I'm here today to tell you where to look.

The first time I noticed something important about music was in a Mozart symphony last year. It wasn't a good performance (maybe that's why I noticed it). The symphony was called "The Jupiter", but I don't think that matters because I don't like the "I know it all" approach to music: Ah, The Jupiter, yes, of course. Beethoven's second Razumovsky Quartet, yes. Opus 106, a masterpiece. It does annoy me rather, you see this is talking about music without mentioning the music. Perhaps it is not talking about the music? I know it's helpful to use labels so we can know what is being discussed, but these are the names on the filing cabinet. They are the names on the files. They are not the contents of the files. Inside are lovely golden sounds without names. Songs without words that sing in my heart.

I forget exactly what it was in that Mozart symphony. I think it was a movement in the harmony. I realised he was doing something really funny, moving somewhere no-one could have predicted. I wondered why no-one was laughing. I think it was because they were hearing "A Mozart symphony" - the one in their heads, perhaps. You don't need Sherlock Holmes to tell you that the best Mozart symphony comes from Mozart, not from us. By some twist of fate, that was actually what I was hearing. Yes, no incompetence on the part of the conductor or players prevented me from hearing what the composer had put into the music. It was all there, and it always is in any piece or performance.

Music is highly cultural, you know. There is a lot to learn about. But as it happens you don't particularly need to learn any of it. If you are responsible and care about the music and why it exists then I think it won't hurt to try learning a bit. But you have to listen first.

I listened, and I am now telling you this:

A master composer knows his job and tries to get better at it.

The best composers didn't stop when they had had enough, or when they thought they were good enough. They continued changing.

In these cases, the golden secret inside centre of the music was what led the creator - it was what they were trying to communicate! In the other cases, the composer got tired and his forms started writing themselves, though there could still be flashes of inspiration. It could never dry up completely (some music leads me to doubt this but it is true)

The secret was called ecstasy. Did the composer want to be a composer, or could he not stop being a composer? "Ecstasy" is a word that means being outside yourself. What is outside? Whatever we don't already know. Other people. Other places. Other ideas. Mistakes. Answers. Genius.

Whatever you think about music, I think we all have to agree there is some kind of vision involved in it. Someone wants to communicate something, and that is their vision. It can be predictable, clichéed, or previously impossible - a surprising thing of brilliance and power. With skill, the vision becomes clearer.

That vision is present in every part of the work, and through the opposition between the parts we can appreciate what it is. (The word for an arrangement of parts is composition)

You won't at first know what a piece of music is saying. It's important to remember that it isn't saying anything. As long as you can say it in words, you are not there. You can talk about it but you have to live it to see it.

With repeated slow careful exposure to music you can learn to feel what it really is. Your mind is not understanding it, your heart is not feeling it, but these senses may be involved.

Remember what I am telling you: it is real. Music is real. There is a real reason for it. It is not something in a book or on a CD, it is something outside you, coming in. Also remember that if you were lost in a labyrinth, you might forget your journey. The outside might seem dark and unfriendly. Think then of what it's like to find the way through the maze. Find the end, and you see you were the one who had gone outside. Really the music is inside. People who don't listen are stuck outside. When we hear it truly, we are all joined up again. Or starting to be.

Primo Levi was in a prison camp. Then he sent us a message through his books so that the world would change. James Clavell was in a prison camp. He did the same. He did a good thing too, because he loved the people who imprisoned him. That is how he was set free. Any others who still hated them were still prisoners, weren't they? And Ronald Searle was in the same camp. He had to carefully hide his drawings while he was there. He sent us messages too.

There is a well-known analogy that life is like a bird flying through a lighted hall. It is light for a moment, then it is dark again. That's silly, because although I can see what it means, I think they are looking at it from the wrong side. Think what the other birds are thinking. Wot is that bird doing stuck inside that dark hall when we are all out here?

I spoke of prisoners because when we are stuck or lost, what we need most is a way out. Sometimes it is all we can do just to survive. There isn't much sign of life outside the prison. But one day a message comes.

To understand the message is all we need to do.

It is not obvious. But it is there. If you can love it, then you are hearing it.

This is the language of music.

Charles Rosen is Here

Charles Rosen was born on May 5th 1927. On February 2nd 2007 he will play Beethoven's Appassionata Sonata and Diabelli Variations at the Queen Elizabeth Hall, London. This is his eightieth year and tonight he was giving a talk in a funny room in the "newly refurbished" (i.e. not finished yet) Royal Festival Hall complex. He stood in front of the conference table and spoke from memory following a quite precise mental map of his hour-long discourse, interrupted only by anecdotes, reminiscences, and interesting facts. Behind the table was an upright piano that said "Welmar". Behind that was a door that said "Toilets". Mr Rosen didn't seem to mind. The main thing was that he was here.

Charles Rosen knows an awful lot about music and culture. I very much recommend to you his book "The Romantic Generation" which is a never-ending compendium of insight into the Romantic vein of music. He is an important man in the musical world but doesn't seem self-important. His only admissions of his own importance were a few jokes such as saying that when he had to move away from the microphone to the piano people at the back might not hear what he was saying, "But then, not everything I say is so interesting" - pause for laughter (which did come) because he obviously knows that everything he says is interesting. That's fine because he's right!

The talk was called "Beethoven's Ambition" and weaved its way through the territory of 18th century musical Europe at a time when although there were accepted great masters of art or of theatre (Raphael, Michelangelo; Aeschylus, Euripides, Aristophanes etc.), there were none of the new instrumental style of music in which Mozart, Haydn, and Beethoven hoped to make their way.

I made notes when I got home and what I remembered best were the anecdotes. Is this because of limited brain power, or is it just that Mr Rosen produces wisdom in a form that is useful and can be remembered?

Here is what he said:

When Stravinsky said he wanted his music played "without expression", that was wrong - Stravinsky never conducted his music that way. It wasn't expression he didn't like, it was Koussevitzky's expression!

Haydn was asked to send an opera to be performed in Prague. He replied that the operas he had written for the court at Esterhazy would not be suitable because they were written for a more provincial setting. He also said he couldn't send a new opera because he'd just heard The Marriage of Figaro and didn't care to try his luck at doing better!

The Magic Flute was the most varied opera (in terms of different forms and techniques used within the opera) written from its time until Alban Berg's Wozzeck.

E.T.A. Hoffmann was the greatest music critic ever.

George Bernard (pronounced here BerNARD) Shaw said that we would be shocked by the music of Mozart if it were not for its lovely melodies.

The Minuet finale of the Diabelli Variations shows Beethoven's lyrical genius - something little considered, and something that came a lot easier to Mozart than to Beethoven.

OK that's all for now. I might add more as I remember them. Tomorrow is a busy day with a Pierre Laurent Aimard masterclass in the morning, a lecture by Christopher Elton on the piano sonatas of Haydn at 6.30 then dash off to hear Charles Rosen play! It sounds like I am back at college again with all this to do. But I will never think I am too important to learn things, from anybody, famous or not. That's why hopefully one day someone will write about some interesting facts I said. While I was standing in front of a door saying "Toilets".

Spelin

My spelling worries me at times, and it's not my fault at all.

There is so much written material being produced using the English language today, most of it by unqualified people, that I have become infected by this superinundation of verbal effluvia (ha ha, I just said that to test my word-power!).

You can say,"We don't want to lose our powers of description". But the word "lose" is one of the words we have already lost, I'm afraid. And I'm the loser now that language use is looser, because what I see very often is the word "loose" when people mean "lose". And I get so used to seeing it that when I see the correct spelling I see it as a mistake. Something looks wrong!

Either we must throw away all the dictionaries and abandon English to the hyaenas, or...something must be done. (Ha ha again, I just felt like saying that - it's very dramatic!)

Today I feel I have helped the cause through not making errors and putting in a bit of effort to give my sentences a measure of moral fibre. However probably now nobody can understand what I'm saying so I'd better mess around with it until it looks a bit more normal. Is there perhaps a tool I can use that un-spellchecks this document? It could be more easily done by just easing the tension in my concentration. Just relax the attention a bit and everything might flow the normal way.

We've nothing to lose once we let it loose! (Because it is already gone!)

(PS I will keep writing in the "making an effort" style if you don't mind).

Goodbye! (For now...)

Erm...

Well, I haven't written anything for a bit! I wonder if I can fix that somehow today?

Certainly, so far, I have definitely written something. So that is success up to a point.

Yesterday I saw two new geese, baby geese - called goslings. They weren't just yellow like baby ducks are in easter advertising, they were greenish-yellow. The parent geese kept an eye out to see if I would try to eat the little ones, but I was safe enough. They weren't too worried. Far more worried was a mother of a human child who must have thought I was going to murder it by walking nearby. After all, they always said "never talk to strangers" and the unspoken assumption and conclusion of that is that all strangers are murderers. In fact, everybody! Just never speak to anyone, ever. Well, in truth, I haven't murdered anyone for ages. So there is very little danger.

Do you think you are in danger now? Hee hee. I think you'll be alright. And it is OK to talk to strangers. I recommend it! On the whole...

Now, don't you worry about a thing. Everything will work out fine. There is a lot less to worry about than you thought. And soon the sun will come out!

Wikipedia...and Durians

Wikipedia is an online encyclopaedia (/encyclopedia) that anyone can edit. It is quite useful, because there are now so many facts available there. Imagine, a book that's always growing! It is not perfect, of course, but I think the principles are pretty sound. I am in favour of it - any complaints that could be made about it are a bit pointless because it is the best we have.

I sometimes correct ridiculous spelling mistakes and things, as I am reading. I haven't written anything longer than one paragraph, since I am not really an expert on anything! Today I updated my User Page. You can read there a lengthy diatribe about Wikipedia! Hooray!

I wanted to write about durians today, but there is not time. For now, here is a relevant picture instead!


Other facts of the day: I have realised that I don't really like chocolate. Also wheat makes me sleepy, on the whole. So I will be watching out for those!

Expert Expounds as Expected

Derek Mitchell, an international security expert, described the incidents outside the White House as " a huge embarrassment".

He added: "The Chinese wanted to beam back to Beijing pictures that are perfect. But most of the White House preparations of pomp and pageantry were poor."

Read it again: "The Chinese...beam back to Beijing/pictures that are perfect....preparations of pomp and pageantry were poor".

??

Is this deliberate?

b_ b_ to b_
p_ that are p_
p_of p_ and p_ are p_

??

Derek Mitchell, an international security expert, is either a bit of a media professional and thinks alliteration will Make his Message Memorable, or he is naturally blessed with poetic skills that he doesn't know about!

The First Post - And I've Done It Already

Literally speaking, this is the first post in this blog. It is even called The First Post - two sentences in and already you can see I am a man of my word! We understand each other, eh?

"What's that? The first post? Hmm...", my bonsai-model brain thinks to me,"Isn't 'The Last Post' already a phrase in common use? Wouldn't it make me look awfully clever to make a...I think the word I'm looking for is 'pun', no? Yes, one of those 'puns' would be perfect. That will show everyone what I am made of". Sadly, it shows exactly what you are made of, oh tiny little mind.

One of the great curses of any language is exactly that: the tiny little mind that operates it. We have this miraculous, unfathomable, incredible gift of communication. What impulse is it that drives us to express the miracle of our being through the time-honoured principles and codes of sub-sub-basement, flatline, powerout, autopilot, void and vacuous...local journalism?

I said it. Local journalism! That's real evidence of a communications curse. If you have ever read a local newspaper then I hope you realised there was something a bit wrong, there. Now, I was not put on this earth to perpetrate terrible crimes against humanity, so I won't attempt to recreate the ambience of the local newspaper experience - you will have to see for yourself! Though it was a good curse, for sure, that also produced some of the greatest unintentional comedy writing in print. "He broke his toe drinking squash" and so on to a collapsible bliss of amusement. (That 'toe' quotation was taken from The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin, a novel by David Nobbs).

So now every man and woman of fighting age has a blog, I guess water finds its own level and the writing genius in us all rather sinks to the bottom. (Did you see? I was doing it there too! Though these gems were the fruits of the curse of a much superior school of journalism, as you might say, though I sincerely hope you wouldn't, for your sake). What a man's gotta blog, a man's gotta blog! There but for the grace of blog go I! Stop me now.

In short, the better part of my mind feels the awkwardness of finding ready words to write to you. I am conscious that my first choices are often just the easy phrases that come to mind, the result of constant exposure to language that sells, entertains, intimidates, misinforms, but only rarely speaks from the heart. Isn't it a sacred thing to be able to pass on our secrets and give love through words? Isn't it a wonder that we can share the mystery of how we came to be here and how we ever became able to think and speak? Even more, we can think about thought itself and speak about words...

So when you write your blog, remember: the literary rubbish probably floats to the top, so just wait a minute and bash your head against the desk to knock some of it out. Then listen to your heart. That's where the truest words are kept.

This is my introductory post, so I shall be less self-conscious next time. Don't worry, my capacity to appal through words will be unimpaired. But I can say that other posts will definitely be shorter! Most of all, I will do my best to heed my own advice. Anything else would be...NO PUN AT ALL! Hooray!!!