who are we to judge? who do we have to be?

As I am writing this, I am contemplating upon an offer to teach some undergraduate music theory next year. I say "contemplating" because although the offer is good, my memories of the wisdom of the typical undergraduate student is still fresh in my mind from my teaching at the University of Colorado. This so called "wisdom" is often the spring board to the "intellectual argument" containing sound and fury, but signifying nothing.

In my undergraduate days we would often get together and "solve" the problems of the world, the economy, the universe, etc. and we would actually believe that we were on the right track. Being just four years out of 8th grade gave us the arrogance to think we knew it all and could do it all. I guess I can handle that type of arrogance; it tends to go away in time. But the arrogance surrounding art seems to cling to the undisciplined mind like doggie-doo to my shoe. So many times I have heard such misinformed statements as "who are we to judge" or "how can one tell which is the greater work; especially when it's the artist expressing him/herself?"

Just for the record let me state that there is a difference between good, great and bad art just as there is a difference between art and "expression" or art and "philosophical statements." The "chance" music of John Cage is a philosophical statement, but it is not art. An abstract expressionist painter throwing paint cans at a canvas in anger might be an expression, but it is not art. For art to exist, there must be some formal structure to it. When we examine a painting by Picasso, a sonata by Beethoven, a photo by Adams or a building by Wright, we are brought to a discovery of structure; and it is that structure that gives us a framework through which we can judge the quality of the art. We can state with authority that Prokofiev's 3rd Piano Concerto is the finest of the 5 not because of its popularity, but because it so completely satisfies the expectations brought about by the formal structure of the work. We can look at a Michelangelo's David and recognize that he overcame a deficient piece of marble by establishing structural lines in his sculpture that lead the eyes in intriguing ways. We can even say that Marvin Gaye's "What's Going On" LP is one of the greatest albums ever recorded; it exceeds all expectations of the listener by gloriously blossoming within the structure it establishes. All this is a simple rebuttal to the misinformed who state the misleading rhetorical, "who are you to judge?"

My late friend James Legg and I attended a concert by the New Music Consortium of NYC. While most of the performers of the evening were outstanding, there was one pianist who presented an improvisation. This improvisation was ghastly to say the least, and it was totally unstructured--just simple banging on the instrument to make a statement. After about 30 minutes Jim shouted out "get off the !#*&%#!! stage!" The reaction from the pianist and the crowd was violent. But what was more intriguing was the number of people who came up to Jim afterward and thanked him for shouting out! Virtually all in attendance recognized that what was being presented was not art but simply an "expression."

Who are we to judge? Who do we have to be...

I say this because I am contemplating whether or not to go back into that ivory tower of intellectual dishonesty. Don't get me wrong. I am not against a good arts education, only against the stupid validity often imposed upon pieces and performances of crap simply because they are the so-called "artistic" personal expressions and "who are we to judge?" Couple that with the fact that undergraduates tend to believe that they have everything figured out...and I guess I have to decide if I want to make the money by living the nightmare.

But, I guess, who am I to judge?

Bob

Does it really matter?

Will there ever be any consensus on the pronunciation of the Zeppelin classic "D'yer Mak'er?" Does anybody really know what "innagoddadavida" means, or why "the walrus was Paul?" (What does one see looking through a glass onion?) Would Picasso's blue period really be any different if it were green? And what about Chopin's 4th Ballad? I mean...does the coda really make any sense? (Yes, it's glorious and dense, and theorists have their theories concerning the origin of the musical material, but let's be real. Isn't the primary reason for it's existence the fact that it "sounds cool?")

Back when I went through my dissertation defense as a candidate for the doctorate, I had a professor query me for the reason I used a particular pitch in a particular piece I wrote. I looked him in the eye and truthfully replied, "because it sounds good." The professor was not too impressed. He was looking for the analytical reason (or possibly the justification) for a particular note; I provided him with a simple personal preference.

Do we sometimes try to explain and justify art rather than experience and enjoy it? Does reason sometimes take the place of passion? I had heard it once said that true art is the catalogue of history's beautiful mistakes. Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, "If eyes were made for seeing, then beauty is its own excuse for being."

I pity those who have to explain everything. Some things are above explanation. And some things we can enjoy without having to explain them. The beauty of a waterfall is not necessarily related to the cubic feet per second of water flow over the precipice. The mystery of a Webern piece is not found in his serial composition. And, there is no reason for reading anything into "the walrus," (outside of the pure entertainment value).

Art is emotional, and it is often irrational. While I am definitely not against "analysis," I am an advocate for experiencing that which is beautiful and challenging. And it really doesn't matter how you pronounce "D'yer Mak'er."

Back to Film

Sometimes it seems that there's too much hype about digital innovation when it comes to photography. One unfortunate downside to this (now long-standing) digital revolution is how lazy it has made many photographers when it comes to composition. Hobbyists and professionals alike can now take literally 1000s of pics, only to later review their catalogue, photo-shop the preferred images, and create what often becomes a "pretty picture" void of any true composition of thought.

The same revolution has jeopardized much musical composition. Many (so-called) composers are now simply keyboard experimenters: record, sequence the sounds that fit under the fingers, then later edit the orchestration, phrasing, etc. and finally publish. The only problem is, once again, the thought--the intelligent relationships that characterize a great work--are given a second place to the aural pleasantries.

The digital age has certainly made access to many arts and disciplines simpler, but has, in turn, simplified those arts and disciplines. I wonder what a difference it might make if some photographers tried "composing" a landscape shot for 3-4 hours, waiting for that "perfect lighting situation" for that film type; or if composers might try their hand at putting ink to paper without actually "tying things out" at the keyboard. Maybe some of our current "artists" would begin to "think" again...