Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Oh, Le Guin and Her Strange Dreams

The text by Elizabeth Le Guin addressing the relationship between conversation and music was very intriguing to me, but for very different reasons that those previously listed on this blog.

Preface:

I see a great deal of things in a theatrical perspective; I try to see everything’s connection to theatre, performance, presentation, the relationship of art to life and visa versa. I am coming into this class as a Theatre major, with many different history, theory, and performance classes under my belt. For better and worse, I feel as if I’m not coming from nor going to the same point as many of my classmates; that said, I’m excited to learn from everyone and see how my view fits in among everyone else’s.


First of all, I refer to this work as “text” because I am utterly lost as to what to refer to it as. What stuck me initially is the fact that Le Guin chose to write in this style. She could’ve written a very poignant paper, or presented this at a conference, but she chose to present her thoughts in a very dramatically charged structure. I could easily imagine turning this into a thought-provoking, if perhaps somewhat dry, play or performance. She has us, her audience, witnessing a conversation about the nature of conversation.
Question: Why do you think putting her thoughts into this form was particularly affective or not affective? How did the conversation on conversation affect your ability to look at yourself as a participant?

Secondly, on pages 15 and 16, Le Guin has herself and “Him” discuss the nature of performance: the idea of a solid, concrete entity (here a sonata) growing or falling in value because of the assessment of its performance. “Him”, actually Diderot, states “…when you are that close to the making of music you don’t judge it the same way you would at the concert spirituel” (Le Guin 15-16). The topic is revisited later on with Morellet and Buffon on page 18, where they state, “[Dramatic] art is admirable and grand, but that is of the forum of the theatre, not of the salon….Yes, in the salon we remain among the concerns of ordinary men and women” (Le Guin 18). Le Guin and her historical cohorts are making the differentiation between big theatres and concert halls, where “professional” concerts were held, and “salons”, where small gatherings among friends featured some music.
Question: Although “salons” themselves have disappeared from society, do you think we have a modern day equivalent? With the invention of portable music players, stereos, and technology used to bring music everywhere, how has our relationship to music changed along with them? What does Buffon mean when he makes his statement about “concerns of ordinary men and women”? Is there any gray area between the experience of sitting at the theatre and sitting at a “salon”?

Thirdly, on page 21, the process of learning conversation is discussed. Morellet states, “…one takes [conversation] in through company meals and in conversations with many quick-witted people; and we make progress hereby through daily intercourse” (Le Guin 21).
Question: Does the same apply to music? Is the best way to learn about music and how to perform music is to participate, both in playing it or listening to it? Where do classes like this one fall into our ability to understand music itself? Does music itself require a certain understanding of the subtly and art of conversation?

Fourthly, the discussion of human characteristics attributed to musical lines and pieces arises on page 26. The characters acknowledge that people have been doing this for years; “It has been a favorite metaphor for talking about chamber music, since your day and before” (Le Guin 26). However, others retort that it is “But a metaphor only” (26). Finally someone raises the question, “Do these musicians actually converse with one another in any imaginable way?” (26).
Question: Well? Do they? Given that the text continues and different historical figures give their perspective on it, what are your own thoughts?
I personally had instances like “Peter and the Wolf” come to mind, in which the nature of instruments themselves are utilized into representing an animal, but also an idea, a prevailing nature, and therefore a strong emotional reaction.
Are emotional reactions to musical pieces engineered or imagined? If imagined, does that give them any less relevance?

The Le Guin was a very illuminated way to introduce the differences and similarities between the factual aspects of music of the 18th century and our relationship to it through the lens of our modern society.

2 comments:

  1. Devan,

    Review "affective" versus "effective."

    You have leapt to four fascinating and important questions. Your question about the present-day salon is especially thought-provoking (and helpful because you force us to make his article relevant to our own experience today.) But I emphasize the word "leapt" because you opening statement does less to help us understand the article as a whole -- what is its overall thread, what is its structure, what does the author want us to take away and how does she accomplish her goal? Work to present your question(s) so that we are not tempted or even allowed to leave the text too rapidly. So, for example, your first question. Do you see how very easily a conversation could ensue about the merits (or not) of presenting an argument as a staged dialogue? We might very easily have a conversation (albeit a stimulating one) that leaves us with no further understanding of this particular article and what it says about the topic. So, you have to give careful thought to how you are going to force us to answer your question in a way that sticks closely to the text. One strategy that occurs to me is that you could invent some comparisons. Write certain passages in other ways. This would be pretty labor intensive, however!

    In a nutshell: you may have a gift for identifying interesting junctures in the text. Work to discipline yourself to identify the junctures' relationship to one another. Use discussion to get to know the text.

    ReplyDelete
  2. PS: See Mike's post and my comment!

    ReplyDelete