Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Digging in - Part IV: What's religion got to do with it?


In Part III, we discovered that the Werktreue mindset (“work-fidelity”) has many implications for performance, often leading to impersonal and even mechanical music-making. We also discovered that, although Werktreue is central to our approach towards classical music, it is only a surface layer. As Harnoncourt pointed out, “There is no crisis in music; rather, music is reflecting the crisis of an age.” In this post, we’ll refocus our attention on some of the underlying philosophical issues that shape our approach to classical music. But first, we must examine a few basic presumptions in secular philosophy that might serve as roadblocks to discovering the root cause of these musical problems.

Fractured Truth

 
If someone were to ask you, “What is two plus two?”  you would have no problem answering, “Four.” If the other person responded that your answer is merely a matter of opinion, this would sound ridiculous because we accept that mathematics exists within the “fact” realm – in other words, a realm in which the questions have definitive, right or wrong answers, speaking generally. Even if the question were a complex math problem like, “What is the square root of 123,785?” you may not know the answer but you would no doubt agree that there was an answer. Whether the answers are known or unknown, we all agree that mathematics exists within the “fact realm” and therefore a right answer is out there.

But if someone were to say, “Is there a God?” many would likely answer, “Well, that is a matter of opinion. For me there is no God, but for you there might be.” Now, both the math question and the God question actually do have a right or wrong answer. Either there is some kind of Supreme Being that created us all and runs this universe, or there is not. Unlike an “opinion” question such as “What is your favorite food?” categorically, the question of whether a God exists is a “fact” question – one with a right or wrong answer. In spite of this, a secular worldview posits that only empirical facts belong in realm of truth while other subjects like religion are a matter of opinion.

This is what Francis Schaeffer called a fractured view of the truth. He described how, at some point over the past few hundred years, a great split happened in modern thinking. Formerly, the subjects of religion and philosophy were considered to have a right and a wrong answer like math or science. In other words, the question, “Is there a God?” was in the same arena as “What is two plus two?” Of course, people disagreed over those answers, but they agreed that there were answers – not just opinions. But at some point, only subjects that could be proved empirically were considered right or wrong (science, mathematics, etc.) while subjects such as morality, religion, and philosophy were considered matters of opinion. To illustrate this split, Schaffer made the well-known analogy of a two-story house, one in which empirical data is in the basement (fact) while religion and morality are in the top story (opinion).

This is a crucial question for our examination of classical music. For if we believe subjects like religion, morality, or philosophy are merely a matter of opinion, we will not be able to identify the “the spiritual crisis of the age” to which Harnoncort refers. Religion and spirituality can only have relevance and potency when they can be identified as true or false. If we believe that these subjects are merely subjective, they can never have objective value. If you’ll allow me, I hold that religion does exist in the “fact” realm as much as math or science and as such, I believe that Christianity has substantial claims that provide plausible explanations to the musical problems in the classical music world today.


Art-Religion of the Romantics 

 

We first must consider the two major competing philosophies of the past 300 years both of which had a huge impact on music: Romanticism and Enlightenment Era philosophy. More specifically, we will consider both how the Romantic era idolized art which influenced the birth of Werktreue, and how Enlightenment era philosophy in the 20th century (Naturalism and Empiricism specifically) led to a dehumanized view of man, and thus a dehumanized view of music and performance. Disclaimer: My treatment of these two huge and complex philosophical systems (Romanticism and Enlightenment Philosophy) is far from exhaustive or even very detailed. We will merely touch on a view general ideas that I believe had a direct impact on classical music.

One of the most basic assumptions in a Christian worldview is that there is true and false religion. Since Christianity holds that the subject of religion belongs in the realm of truth and not opinion, this conclusion is inevitable. Furthermore, any false religious position will be misguided and therefore harmful. For example, if a doctor had false views of biology, his or her prescriptions would misguided and potentially deadly to the patient. Our examination of the art-religion of the romantic era is such an example.


 “Art is our religion, our center of gravity, our truth,” says Franz Marc, a German painter who lived toward the end of the 19th century. Among the many facets of the Romantic tradition, the one aspect that concerns us is the creation of their own religion – one where art became the supreme source of life and truth. William Wordsworth in his epic poem The Prelude refers to himself as being “clothed in a priestly robe…for holy services.” William Yeats said that art was “a new religion, almost an infallible Church of poetic tradition.”


The residual effects of this “art-religion” are still seen today, though not as explicitly as in the 19th century. World-renown soprano Renee Flemming stated in an interview that her mission is to bring “the gospel of opera to the unsaved” (Chicago Tribine, Jan 06, 2013). Bruce Haynes, in his book quoted earlier, writes “This book is dedicated to Erato, muse of lyric and love poetry, Euterpe, muse of music.” When Simon Rattle came to conduct the Oberlin Orchestra, he remarked with encouragement how people ran for consolation to art galleries shortly after the tragedies of 9/11, encouraging us to “keep the faith.” Van Cliburn’s once commented that a pianist must be “married to the piano.”

 
 Of course, these statements are not literal. Renee Flemming does not believe that she is literally gaining converts to an explicit “opera-religion”, nor does Van Cliburn mean that a pianist should literally marry their pianos. But what these remarks do reflect is a view of music that implies a loyalty to music that goes beyond a normal dedication to a profession. If we look at the deep concern, almost obsession, with “serving music” or “serving the composer”, it becomes apparent that these concerns can often go far beyond a normal dedication to craft.

This religious dedication to music causes a number of problems. First, it produces a sense that our primary goal as performers is to serve an impersonal force or influence (like music) or a composer (who is most likely dead). The most basic problem is that truly “serving” a dead person or an intangible idea is not truly possible. There is no way that “music” can be hurt or pleased and neither can dead composers. Taruskin points out in Text and Act that:


A performer cannot please or move the ancient dead and owes them no such effort. There is no way that we can harm Bach or Mozart any more, not any way that we can earn their gratitude. Still less can a performer please or move an inanimate object or an abstract idea. We owe them even less obligation. Our obligation is to the living. Turning ideas into objects and objects in place of people, is the essential modernist fallacy. (Underline mine)

When we try to serve something intangible like music, we can easily mistreat human beings in the process. Think back on the examples of Toscanini and Reiner and how they treated their orchestras in order to honor “the music.” Or recall the quote by Taruskin, how composers began to treat performers with suspicion and almost contempt because of how they often got in the way of their musical ideals. This is why the great commandment in Christian scripture is to love God will all our heart, mind, and strength and love our neighbors as ourselves. Christianity teaches that servanthood is always to have a personal object. Only then will we treat people with the dignity and love in the process of excelling in music.   


Furthermore, idolizing music can often put a strain on our approach to performance. Baily puts it this way:


In the Straight [modern classical] world the performer approaches music on tiptoe. Music is precious and performance constitutes a threat to its existence. So, of course, he has to be careful. Also, the music doesn’t belong to him. He’s allowed to handle it but only under the strictest supervision. Somebody, somewhere, has gone through a lot of trouble to create this thing, this composition, and the performer’s primary responsibility is to preserve it from damage.

Ironically, when performers exalt music as a holy object, a fear of damaging it will often be at the center of their performing. The logical consequences of this approach are either safe, risk-free performances or an obsessive, anxious attitude toward performance. Think back to the Toscanini quote and his anxiety over musical decisions. As with all false religion, it can never produce freedom.


Interestingly, this disposition towards worshiping music suggests that humans are naturally inclined to worship something. Christianity teaches that we are designed to worship. It is built into the very fabric of our being. It’s just like the Bob Dylan line, “ya gotta serve somebody.” Moreover, we long to worship something that is perfect, flawless. Christianity teaches that when the true God is not the object of worship, we will in turn just worship something else, something less than perfect. This typically leads to disappointment and disillusionments. Thus, when we try to worship music, it doesn’t ultimately yield life-giving results but often lead to emptiness and dissapointment.


We’ve seen some of the lingering effects the Romantic era “art-religion” on the modern-day classical musician – viewing music “sacred object” and a religious allegiance to music or to dead composers. I find it incredible how something as seemingly remote as Romantic era philosophy can directly impact such everyday circumstances like a music history class or an orchestra rehearsal. But what about the 20th century? How did that impact the classical world? Tune in next time…