Reith Lectures -
April 2006 - Barenboim
A universal language
or a divisive art ?
In the early 1960s
a seminal book on music appeared; this
was Deryck Cooke’s "The Language
of Music". Cooke expounded the
notion that all music has the same basic
root of a language of sound, based on
the harmonic series and all that derives
from it no matter what period of the
history of music to which it is applied,
nor the culture which has used it. This
was primarily a technical thesis which
nonetheless had implications for the
usage of music in a more philosophical,
or even moral sense.
During the past month
of April, the annual BBC Reith Lectures
have been given. This is the second
time that a musician has been invited
to contribute to this earnest philosophical
series of lectures, Previously the line-up
has included not only philosophers themselves,
but scientists, economists, medical
researchers, historians, moralists and
distinguished authorities from all walks
of life.
The first musician,
some years ago, was Alexander Goehr,
the composer and at that time, professor
of music at Cambridge; an avant-gardiste
in musical art. These past few weeks
another world-renowned musician has
offered his thoughts on music, but this
time, not in a single, profound lecture,
but in the current fashion that the
BBC seems to favour, in a series of
public lectures before an invited audience
in various large cities in which Barenboim
has been celebrated for his musical
connections.
The first two lectures
were frankly rather disappointing, and
drew critical comment, This largely
pointed out the speaker’s lack of expertise
in the art of lecturing, no matter that
he is certainly distinguished as performer:
pianist and conductor of world class
stature.
These first lectures
seemed rather naïve in stating
some all-too-obvious facts which anyone
interested in serious music would already
know. This somehow accords with the
BBC’s apparent general dumbing-down
of general intellectual offerings to
its listeners and this was further abetted
by the engagement of Sue Lawley, who,
while perhaps being an easy-going appropriate
hostess to that naïve programme
"Desert Island Discs" seemed
rather out of her depth in the more
serious business of an august Reith
Lecture. She tended to sound like a
latter-day Joyce Grenfell in the role
of a fussy school ma’am, telling the
pupils to "pay attention"
as it were to the distinguished visitor
who had condescended to come to talk
to the children in her class.
Some of the captive
audience who were privileged to ask
questions seemed suspiciously as if
they were specially chosen "plants"
primed to ask undemanding and un-contentious
questions (which would not of course,
overrun the allotted time span of the
programme).
The fourth lecture
came from Jerusalem where he has established
an orchestra comprising both Jews and
Arabs, the intention being to show that
music – through its common language
– can materially help to bring about
understanding and co-operation between
conflicting cultures.
It must be said that
this fourth lecture in the series was
rather better than the first three –
despite Lawley’s still faintly irritating
way of handling the proceedings. As
on the previous occasions there was
a slot for questions from the audience.
Some of these were rather more penetrating
than the ones asked in earlier lectures.
One Palestinian academic put it to Barenboim,
that despite the claim that the combined
forces of both Jews and Arabs in this
unique orchestra were happily performing
together, the music they were persuaded
to perform was essentially of the "western"
culture, and wondered why such peoples
were not being able to express themselves
through their own indigenous kind of
music. This appeared, however momentarily,
to put Barenboim on the defensive. He
claimed that the Arabian element in
his orchestra were not being forced
to acknowledge some kind of ‘superiority’
of Jewish music, but were playing a
more universal world-class music: in
essence a music stemming from western
Europe, historically more German than
anything else; further implying that
this is the music of the whole world
nowadays.
This raises some interesting
things to consider. But first of all,
it is worth thinking about the obvious
good intentions of Barenboim, who explaining
the thinking behind the scheme emphasised
that music is indeed a common language.
Persuading conflicting cultures to make
music together should certainly be a
step in the right direction, since it
is not possible to make music with participants
who are in conflict with each other
or are rivals in some aspect of their
attitude towards music.
In a very local, and
narrow sense it might be said that this
is why competitive music-making, regarding
it as a sport where one performer tries
to establish a superiority over another,
in an arrogant, triumphalist way, is
the wrong attitude to performance. It
should be to bring people together not
in displays of mutual confrontation
but in co-operation. This, by the way,
is one of the fundamental arguments
this writer has always had with the
narrow, mentality of the brass band
movement’s obsession with contesting;
using it as yet another vehicle for
exulting sport rather than for its true
purpose of communicating emotional and
positive means of mutual understanding.
Barenboim is certainly right in his
idealism of persuading different peoples
to come together to play in mutual respect.
What would the result be, for instance,
were he to have promoted some kind of
Middle-East "band contest"
between Jews and Arabs instead? The
idea does not bear thinking about.
So in his aspects of
his philosophy Barenboim is right: the
use of music as an international language
to bring people to agree rather than
to be rivals. However, his Palestinian
questioner ought not to be dismissed
either: There is certainly an assumption
that "world music" is now
western European – or its younger twin
brother, American. But maybe it is just
the long-standing arrogance of Europeans,
remembering their world-conquering days
of colonial expansion that still assumes
that western-European music, like western-language
(especially English) "must"
mean none other than that.
It is however, curious
to consider the state of world music
just now. Despite what Barenboim’s questioner
quite rightly remarked about the feeling
of being musically (and culturally)
disenfranchised by the assumption that
middle-eastern people and orientals
in general are now assumed to accept
western music as the world-wide norm,
and thus probably abandon their own
native language and music, it has to
be remembered that western culture,
and especially the English language,
has become, and is set to become even
further the universal way of life.
Consider all those
international musical stars, so many
of whom now come from the Far East,
and seem capable of beating us at our
own game. They have, in little more
than a generation or two, learned our
languages, and not least the language
of music in the widest sense of the
word. Yet the opposite has not proved
to be the case. How many westerners
claim to be familiar with and adept
performers of oriental music or oriental
languages?
There is an interesting
facet to this: Some years ago I had
a revealing conversation with a musician,
who, like me, had been in the armed
forces during the Second World War.
He had been in the Intelligence Corps,
his speciality being languages. Consequently
he was sent on a crash-course in Japanese
since we were short of capable interpreters
to deal with the aftermath of the war
in the Far East. He said that it became
quite apparent that the orientals were
better at learning English (and other
European languages) than ever we could
hope to become at learning their languages.
Not only that, but there was a feeling
that somehow the orientals preferred
– generally speaking – to keep their
own culture private, not relishing westerners
prying into their language, whereas
they did not in the least mind taking
the trouble to infiltrate aspects of
our culture; language, music, technology
of every kind.
This has become evident
in just about every walk of life now:
electronics, engineering, finance and
economics, amongst which western music
is just one facet of our culture that
they have taken readily to themselves.
So perhaps there is a conflict of ideals:
the Palestinian academic who, rightly,
brought to Barenboim’s notice the submerging
of a middle-eastern tradition of musical
language: melody, harmony, form, along
with instrumental and vocal styles that
express their own cultural personality.
Against this is perhaps to be set not
only the willingness of orientals to
adopt western cultures, but their –
apparent – preference that we should
not invade their cultures but allow
them to keep it private to themselves?
Arthur Butterworth
