>But to take his post seriously: I
>believe in the power of music to move us to a high decree so that we,
>the listeners, forgetting our own notions for a listening while, give
>over to the emotions the composer wants to transfer to us.  Yes, maybe
>you feel like Scarpia for some bars, enjoying the intoxication of
>brutality, like passionate Carmen, like jolly Papageno, like the poor
>old Hollander.  And I, listening to some of Bach, feel like a religious
>person as long as I listen.

Now we come to the heart of the matter!  Is there something out there,
a POWER, mysteriously hidden in some music, while it is absent from some
other, that makes Robert forget "his notions"?  As this is not "measurable"
(because not "reproducable" in time or as seen by more than one person),
we would have to conclude that it is "mystical".  No wonder we feel we
have to drag in religion into this discussion!  Even more startling then
is the fact that some of us feel they have to start off with stating
their own believes prior to embarking on the subject, as if to apologise
for the fact that not everything they are going to say may be intelligable
to others.  Thinking this through, we would end up in some solipsistic
universe where the argument would end at simply stating that I like this
and I don't like that, and that there is no intelligent way of showing
to others what music and why music really moves me.  Therefore, I strongly
second the proposal to keep our believes to ourselves.

No let's look from the other side.  I will not exclude the possibility
that the composer intended something when he wrote music.  I don't because
in some cases I find prove of this (in books, writings, documentaries,
personal conversation), although any decent composer will immediately
say to you that the evidence is almost always circumstancial.

Having said that, the interesting phrase in above quote all the more
becomes "forgetting our own notions".  What do we mean by that?  Apparently
we have in our intellectual luggage a lot of premonitions, anticipations,
memories of perceptions.  They together will form basis of our ATTITUDE
towards any music.  Thinking this to the end, it becomes clear that good,
interesting, moving, startling music to me is nothing more than a bunch
of sounds that questions my attitude.  Sometimes it (my attitude) is
confirmed, sometimes it is upset, sometimes it's numbed, baffled,
temporarily masked.  I will not exclude the possibility that Bach
consciously or subconsciously tried to do that to his listeners, but
at the same time I will paraphrase an old wisdom: Beauty, ugliness,
strangeness, affirmation in music: it's all in the ear of the beholder.
This will not lower any esteem for any composer's accomplishments, it
will just put our standpoint in perspective and work towards a more grown
up perception of great music.  In any case, if I would sit down and think
about Bach being a Christian or nice man or a heavy drinker or a murderer
and then imagine how he would convey these to us in his music, I would
formost find myself sitting and thinking about my OWN premonitions about
Christian, nice, drinking murderers, and have poor old Sebastian's music
portray my thoughts.  So then, why drag Bach into this in the first
place!  I would propably better have to go and write my own Matthew
Passion, which would most probably not stir many people's attitudes.

To react again on above quote and to sum up: Maybe the composer wants
to transfer something, but it is so much more interesting that you allow
emotion to be transferred to you, or putting it more to the point: that
you allow emotion to rise, to have your sense of romantic and rational
beauty be tickled and be prepared to be inspired.  Robert's examples
above show that he looks capable of these emotions.  But to put the
record straight: Was THE Hollander really poor, or do YOU just feel
he was poor, or do you FEEL like a poor Hollander?

regards,
Jos (who tonight willingly will have his attitude questioned by Les Troyens
in Amsterdam)