Intellectual and Cultural Events Journal
The Chagal Trio Performance
from
JoeUser Forums
I'm always reminded of a couple of truths when I listen to a live concert like the one given by the Chagal Trio this morning during Common Hour. First, even if I happen to know the musical piece well (and I had never heard the piece that the Trio played this morning) I notice something new about it each time I hear it. Sometimes the performers accentuate their particular parts, and sometimes the conductor (or in this case, the whole group) decides to do something different with tempo or intensity than what I am used to. What's interesting to me about this phenomenon as a listener is that it reminds me how important it is to re-read a work of literature several times in order to get a sense of its complexity. Just as there were three performers working together this morning, weaving together their particular parts to make up the whole musical piece, there are different aspects of fiction, poetry, or drama that a writer is using all at once to make up the whole literary piece. If I concentrate on only one thing, such as plot (which is common to do on a first reading) I miss the complexities of characterization or setting. If I get fascinated with something I find symbolic, I might miss other things entirely. If I dislike a character, I may get turned off to the whole story or play. If I don't understand a word or phrase, I may miss the point of the poem. What's helpful about reading a text, as opposed to experiencing a performance, is that I can go back and re-read a passage or look up a word in the dictionary and then pick up where I left off. The energy of a musical (or dramatic) performance keeps right on going, whether or not I'm up to speed.
A second thing that I'm reminded of every time I experience a performance is that seeing something performed teaches me how the art is produced. Of course, the composer produces the text, and I don't have insight into his or her process of composing unless he or she explains it. But I noticed this morning that when the violinist put the mute on his bridge, the sounds made by his instrument sounded like distant horns rather than a violin, especially when he was playing double stops. Listening to a recording of the piece, I might not be aware (unless I played a stringed instrument or had listened to enough performances of pieces for violin) how the sound was produced. Seeing the violinist move the mute on and off his bridge at certain times reminded me that he was responding to a direction in the musical score put there by the composer. The composer had to know the difference in sound between a muted violin and an unmuted one, and he or she directed the performer to use the mute or not use it in order to achieve a particular effect. It is easy to be a passive listener when I put a CD into the player in my car. The music may soothe or entertain me, but my thoughts are elsewhere. Sitting in a concert hall, watching the musicians (re)create the music, I am reminded of how physical a thing it is to make music, and of the intimate relationship the performer has with his or her instrument. (This is why I like to sit where I can see the musicians' hands as they play.) The performance this morning was like a complex dance, one that involved not only three performers but also three instruments and an absent composer. If I'm to get the full effect of the performance, I have to be as focused a listener as the performers are focused players. Actually, if I'm to get the truly full effect of the performance, I should have studied the musical score before coming into the hall.
Because the Chagal Trio performance was not a required Intellectual and Cultural event for this class, students are not required to respond to my posting. Those who attended the performance and would like to comment are welcome to, however.
A second thing that I'm reminded of every time I experience a performance is that seeing something performed teaches me how the art is produced. Of course, the composer produces the text, and I don't have insight into his or her process of composing unless he or she explains it. But I noticed this morning that when the violinist put the mute on his bridge, the sounds made by his instrument sounded like distant horns rather than a violin, especially when he was playing double stops. Listening to a recording of the piece, I might not be aware (unless I played a stringed instrument or had listened to enough performances of pieces for violin) how the sound was produced. Seeing the violinist move the mute on and off his bridge at certain times reminded me that he was responding to a direction in the musical score put there by the composer. The composer had to know the difference in sound between a muted violin and an unmuted one, and he or she directed the performer to use the mute or not use it in order to achieve a particular effect. It is easy to be a passive listener when I put a CD into the player in my car. The music may soothe or entertain me, but my thoughts are elsewhere. Sitting in a concert hall, watching the musicians (re)create the music, I am reminded of how physical a thing it is to make music, and of the intimate relationship the performer has with his or her instrument. (This is why I like to sit where I can see the musicians' hands as they play.) The performance this morning was like a complex dance, one that involved not only three performers but also three instruments and an absent composer. If I'm to get the full effect of the performance, I have to be as focused a listener as the performers are focused players. Actually, if I'm to get the truly full effect of the performance, I should have studied the musical score before coming into the hall.
Because the Chagal Trio performance was not a required Intellectual and Cultural event for this class, students are not required to respond to my posting. Those who attended the performance and would like to comment are welcome to, however.