Absolute Musician

Music, so the story goes, is an Art, to be untouched by the common or profane. Our Europe-centric art music considers itself to be the most sophisticated example of the world’s musical accomplishments. Pure, Art and Absolute.

The Absolute view of Music insists that music exists as an entity separate from social and cultural settings. When we do attach human issues, we become offended that it is now a subject of ethnomusicology, implying something ‘savage’ or unrefined.

This absolute attitude shapes the way we speak of music. We use only music words. We describe and analyze pitch, rhythm, and harmony, and explain pieces using form, tempo and structure, etc. Music is dissected and dehumanized in hopes of achieving intimacy through autopsy. Its anatomy is taught to musicians and audiences as the means of gaining an understanding of music. Whisper “sonata form” and you shall be admitted to the club.

Along this vein, we also teach the repertoire, as set forth by a few, select god-like composers. If you know the masterpieces you are a stylish consumer of classical music. And unfortunately, for musicians this absolute attitude can mean that if a player masters the anatomy, technique and repertoire, they are a musician.

It is as an absolute and segregated art that music becomes exactly what we hear from our detractors: stuffy, elitist, cerebral, museum-like artifact. I’m not asking that we come down from our Ivory Tower – civilization needs to remember the possibilities beyond the every day. But I ask that we add one more requirement: Enchantment. The art in music making is the enchantment. This elusive quality lifts the spirit and moves the soul, and most importantly, requires the human element.

To keep the Ivory Tower of Music alive we need to allow it to be attached to this earth, built firmly in the mud and mess of human life and its social context. We need to recognize music’s function in fulfilling a very real need of humans. That is: to be enchanted.

Let’s educate our listeners to be open to the web of enchantment and imagination. Let’s move beyond our thrill of sonic perfection and allow musicians to fill their role as story-spinners, enchanters, pied-pipers and raconteurs.

I remember once as a teacher a colleague asked, “If no one in the classroom is learning, can we call ourselves teachers?” So with that thought: When musicians play, but no one is enchanted, are we still Musicians?