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Neil Jones argues against morality in modern music

 

Sitting in St David’s Hall Saturday night what else could I do but chew on some profound thoughts? The orchestra was playing away with a certain tumult and beauty, and I thought myself into a frenzy. Here’s what was going on inside…

Piece One: Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto No 1

This piece was playful yet distinctly aristocratic, which allows it to expand, contract and coil without a pronounced heaviness. Though awkward at times in the manner of an innovative work, it never once gives the impression of being domesticated or compromised by morality. It is wild, dissolute and tempestuous. And in all of the above is the potential for artistic beauty beyond morality.

Piece Two: Giles Swayne’s Symphony No 1, A Small World

The Prokofiev piece puts me in that kind of intensely yet effortlessly observational mode that only great classical music can, and it’s a great thing that to follow that we get a brand new piece. Giles Swayne is a merited figure in modern British music, a composer that’s followed his heart and embraced many different musical forms including African music. His piece is nobly-conceived and brilliant, but in what respect? A distinctly modern one perhaps?

The first negative thought to gnaw away at me is that here the composer is thinking thoughts rather than just letting them come to him. The piece is thus brilliant, but too much so. Is this a thing modern composers do? Is it a thing thrust on them by a new duty to modern society? A duty to think and be “relevant”, with a social obligation? Giles Swayne in his speech before hand berated music with a message whilst explaining his. The impression was that of a charming man stumbling upon the neurosis of modern classical music.

This message, being “social”, can only come from the surface of man’s soul, his morality, that part which judges, chooses and refuses, and as such is fatally flawed. For the classical masters art was sacred, needed no morality, demanded to hear all and judge nothing.

Do composers suffer for themselves any more or do they suffer for society? This is a fundamental question I think, as each step into society and maybe martyrdom is another step away from soul into shackles. Surely an artist’s duty is to serve the One inside and see all, rather than to serve the One outside and judge all?

The minds of our creative elite are corrupted by formulas, have been for the last one-hundred years, give and take a few rebels, who really stand out in the underground, have as a result built the underground. In the programme notes Swayne mentions “my fury”, which implies a movement towards something. It’s too aggressive. There’s the thought, and there’s the action, and in the time in between the moment is lost. Morality is this movement in two parts. Abraxus and art demands the one sweep.

Swayne also asks “what sort of world will this be in ten years?” A noble question, but how can we possibly create art when we have this on our minds? We can come up with profound and seemingly soulful couplets, opinion pieces, but how bourgeois we are at a fundamental level. We want to blow it open with something beautiful, not eternally comprehend it.

Music cannot convey natural disasters, as that is a motion. It can only convey the timeless impression of the unguarded soul. We cannot regard humanity in general, we have to get to the source within, beyond morality and opinion.

Where are the profound “notebook” moments with modern composers?

Piece 3: Sibelius’s Symphony No 5

Take the way these themes contrast in the Sibelius piece. He’s not thinking and trying to order the world but receiving it into him with the lax, all-knowing morality of the inner Abraxus. It’s a thing that consumes you in its flames, and makes you listen to the dreadful voice, the opposite of which is beauty. One doesn’t work without the other, and any artistic morality will rule both out. Horror and beauty, the devout have always sat in the middle and let it run free, their music has been a form of “living” expression, beyond any moral process. That’s the way it has to be.

© 2007 Neil Jones

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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