Peter Varley wrote:

>BTW, there does seem to be a misunderstanding about what languages are and
>what they do:

And Mr. Varley writes about some very good examples of other languages,
both spoken and scientific.

However I must take exception to this statement

>One that's relevant here is that dissonance represents strong emotion, and
>loud dissonance represents violently strong emotion.  I didn't think it was
>in doubt that when Schubert, in one of his piano sonatas, gets loud and
>dissonant, it's a representation of violent anger.

I do agree that changes in dynamics and tonality represent changes in
emotional content, but as far as labeling them with specific emotions
I absolutely DO NOT agree.  I wonder how many people would think that
your passage representing "violent anger" would also interpret it that
way if they were not given any hints.  I've listened carefully to all
of Schubert's piano sonatas and I've never noticed violent anger.  This
reminds me of our MCML conversations a while back over the so-called black
hole in a Goldberg Variation.  Sorry, but it doesn't work for me.

Insofar as a language is a communication, then I can see music as a
language.  There is not a one-to-one correspondence between elements of
music and emotion, however.  There are some very enlightening books written
about this subject by Leonard Meyer.

I must repeat what I have said previously: one of the most important
characteristics of absolute (and instrumental, not vocal) music for me
is the absence of named emotions and programs.  This is not to say that I
avoid program music.  Quite the contrary.  But I have always felt free to
make up my own programs, or just enjoy the music without trying to layer
it with more "meaning." This is a description of me as a listener.

As a musician, I would certainly need to know the existing program, the
emotional descriptive terms that the composer has written along with tempo
markings, and I'd appreciate the helpful comments of a conductor who could
translate those terms into performance practice.

I am aware of very strong feelings within me, triggered by the music, but
I love the freedom of not having to name those feelings.  If I could do
an adequate job of describing them in words, then I'd be a poet or writer,
not a musician.  Why is it necessary for us to use words to describe our
feelings when the music does it so well for us? Where did we acquire this
urge to list and measure everything we feel? When I listen to Mahler, for
instance, and hear contrasting yet simultaneous emotional content I can
allow myself the luxury of wordless apprehension.

I saw a short bit of film one day.  James Earl Jones and some other actor
were playing two ordinary just-folks-fellows talking about music.  Mahler
fifth was on.  The first fellow asked Jones about what he liked in the
music.  It had no rhythm, no melody, no beat ... so what was THERE? And
big, beautiful, pot-bellied, bespectacled, James Earl Jones got his
gorgeous smile on his face, and started turning around in a circle and
moving his arms gently.  He said it made him feel like "this" and he moved
the way it made him feel.

Yeah.

I can relate to that.

Mimi Ezust <[log in to unmask]>