Today's post looks at Aaron Copland's What to Listen for in Music (1957), and grows out of two earlier posts on evaluating and critiquing new compositions:
Some people are better at critiquing compositions than others, and, as discussed in my previous blog, there are undoubtedly different reasons for this. Some may be related to personality type — some people are by nature more comfortable expressing opinions than others — but it may also be related to not knowing what to listen for.
Aaron Copland's What to Listen for in Music (1957) proposes that there are three ways (or levels) of listening to music, which he describes as "planes." Below is a summary, all in Aaron Copland's words:
"Functional music" can be considered as a category of music (gebrauchsmusik, in German; learn more here) ; this would include music for marching, dance, exercise, meditation, etc. This music is not limited to mere functionality, of course; any of these genres can be affective — which may arguably be part of their function — and musically interesting as well (meaning they can stand up to scrutiny on the "sheerly musical plane").
This makes me wonder if we also listen to some music on a primarily functional plane. We may march, dance, or exercise to the beat of the music, which is similar to Copland's "sensuous" plane, except that we are using the musical pulse to guide the pace of our movement. Our primary focus may not be on the "sheer pleasure of the musical sound itself" (Copland), but instead on the activity in which we are engaged (dancing, exercising, etc.); music, in this case, is essentially a tool that helps to get us moving.
Possibly there is also a background plane for music to which we pay little attention; it's just there, in the background, as we drive, shop, eat, clean, etc. I am for the most part incapable of experiencing music on a background level; if there's music around me, I tend to listen (or rather, it tends to hijack my brain), which can make shopping and dining out a rather unsettling experience.
Copland's assertion that professional musicians are (often) overly concerned with the "sheerly musical plane" — the harmonies, melodic lines, structure, etc. — to the exclusion of the expressive plane is interesting, but this has not been my experience. I suspect that many musicians would argue that they are intimately and passionately concerned with the expressive side of music when they perform, and that communicating this aspect to the listener is extremely important in preparing for performances.
And even though I love finding out how music works and teach many courses in which the majority of the work we do involves listening on what Copland calls the "sheerly musical" plane, I frequently find my critical faculties turning to mush as I get carried away by a particularly moving work, which presumably means I am listening on sensuous and expressive planes.
In any event, I present this as food for thought. Returning to the issue of critiquing compositions (both others' and your own), perhaps one way to approach it would be to ask yourself how well the music works on each of these different planes.
Some people are better at critiquing compositions than others, and, as discussed in my previous blog, there are undoubtedly different reasons for this. Some may be related to personality type — some people are by nature more comfortable expressing opinions than others — but it may also be related to not knowing what to listen for.
Aaron Copland's What to Listen for in Music (1957) proposes that there are three ways (or levels) of listening to music, which he describes as "planes." Below is a summary, all in Aaron Copland's words:
The Sensuous Plane — "The simplest way of listening to music is to listen for the sheer pleasure of the musical sound itself. … It is the plane on which we hear music without thinking, without considering it in any way. One turns on the radio while doing something else and absentmindedly bathes in the sound. … The surprising thing is that many people who consider themselves qualified music lovers abuse that plane of listening. They go to concerts in order to lose themselves. They use music as a consolation or an escape. … Yes, the sound appeal of music is a potent and primitive force, but you must not allow it to use up a disproportionate share of your interest. The sensuous plane is an important one in music, a very important one, but it does not constitute the whole story.
The Expressive Plane — "Here, immediately, we tread on controversial ground. Composers have a way of shying away from any discussion of music's expressive side. … But that should not lead one to the other extreme of denying to music the right to be "expressive." My own belief is that all music has an expressive power, some more and some less, but that all music has a certain meaning behind the notes and that meaning behind the notes constitutes, after all, what the piece is saying, what the piece is about. This whole problem can be stated quite simply by asking, "is there. a meaning to music?" My answer to that would be, "yes." And "can you state in so many words what the meaning is?" My answer to that would be, "no." Therein lies the difficulty.
The Sheerly Musical Plane — "Besides the pleasurable sound of music and the expressive feeling that it gives off, music does exist in terms of the notes themselves and of their manipulation. Most listeners are not sufficiently conscious of this third plane. Professional musicians, on the other hand, are, if anything, too conscious of the mere notes themselves. They often fall into the error of becoming so engrossed with their arpeggios and staccatos that they forget the deeper aspects of the music they are performing. … The intelligent listener must be prepared to increase [their] awareness of the musical material and what happens to it. [They] must hear the melodies, the rhythms, the harmonies, the tone color in a more conscious fashion. But above all [they] must, in order to follow the line of the composer's thought, know something of the principals of musical form. Listening to all of these elements is listening on the sheerly musical plane."Perhaps there are other planes than this, or at least sub-planes?
"Functional music" can be considered as a category of music (gebrauchsmusik, in German; learn more here) ; this would include music for marching, dance, exercise, meditation, etc. This music is not limited to mere functionality, of course; any of these genres can be affective — which may arguably be part of their function — and musically interesting as well (meaning they can stand up to scrutiny on the "sheerly musical plane").
This makes me wonder if we also listen to some music on a primarily functional plane. We may march, dance, or exercise to the beat of the music, which is similar to Copland's "sensuous" plane, except that we are using the musical pulse to guide the pace of our movement. Our primary focus may not be on the "sheer pleasure of the musical sound itself" (Copland), but instead on the activity in which we are engaged (dancing, exercising, etc.); music, in this case, is essentially a tool that helps to get us moving.
Possibly there is also a background plane for music to which we pay little attention; it's just there, in the background, as we drive, shop, eat, clean, etc. I am for the most part incapable of experiencing music on a background level; if there's music around me, I tend to listen (or rather, it tends to hijack my brain), which can make shopping and dining out a rather unsettling experience.
Copland's assertion that professional musicians are (often) overly concerned with the "sheerly musical plane" — the harmonies, melodic lines, structure, etc. — to the exclusion of the expressive plane is interesting, but this has not been my experience. I suspect that many musicians would argue that they are intimately and passionately concerned with the expressive side of music when they perform, and that communicating this aspect to the listener is extremely important in preparing for performances.
And even though I love finding out how music works and teach many courses in which the majority of the work we do involves listening on what Copland calls the "sheerly musical" plane, I frequently find my critical faculties turning to mush as I get carried away by a particularly moving work, which presumably means I am listening on sensuous and expressive planes.
In any event, I present this as food for thought. Returning to the issue of critiquing compositions (both others' and your own), perhaps one way to approach it would be to ask yourself how well the music works on each of these different planes.
- Does music have to work on more than one of these planes in order to be successful?
- Is it valuable to learn to listen on different levels, or to be aware of the plane on which we experience music, at the moment we are listening to it?
- Are there other listening planes, beyond those suggested by Copland (or myself)?
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