It’s audition time at music conservatories yet again. I thought I would share something that happens with a lot of frequency, and it’s got me thinking.
Someone will come around and introduce themselves as a composer, and we’ll say, “That’s fine, that’s great, let’s see some scores!” We composers like to share our scores and have a look and see.
A lot more often than you would think, though, the composer in question will offer CDs instead.
This is met with some collective eye-rolling in conservatories. Does this person not know how to produce a score? Does this person even know how to read music? With software nowadays most people can create some kind of music and put it on a CD, but the printed score is still paramount in classical music. In fact, when seeing a new score for the first time, I know of several composers who refuse to even listen to the accompanying CD, as if this is demeaning in some way. The printed score, for these composers, is apparently all that matters.
And yet.
I mentioned in a prior post what John Harbison calls “us notes-and-rhythms composers.” Of course ¬†a philosophical argument can be made that music need not be limited to notes and rhythms. Almost every week the New York Times reviews some manner of concert that involves live electronics in some way: usually a laptop providing playback of samples or processing live sounds.¬†As well, these kinds of performances are not necessarily supposed to sound the same from performance to performance. It just so happens that, as with jazz or popular styles, the ability to read music can be rather incidental to someone’s inherent musicianship.
I’m not sure who is more at a loss here. On the one hand there is the aspiring young composer who might glean more by learning about theory, notation, etc.; on the other hand there is the conservatory that creates a firewall of musical literacy, one that keeps out a genuinely talented composer.
Is there a happy medium between the two?
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