Thursday, May 1, 2008

Eclectic Analysis

The next several posts will be consist of the various steps of an eclectic analysis of the song "She Has No Time" by Keane.

I originally encountered the song as a cover of the song by a college acapella group, the UNC Clef Hangers, and fell in love with it. This drove me to seek out the original recording.

In preparing for the analysis, I also decided to quickly arrange and record a cover of the song. It is entirely vocal, like the Clef Hangers version, but is based more strongly on the original version. However, it is not even close to finished, so that will not be available until later on.

Although none of the following were included in my analysis, I found the following videos interesting:

A video taken from Keane's DVD "Strangers" set to a live recording of the piece.

A recording of the original version of the song (with guitars and everything) complemented nicely with pictures of the band.

A really neat video of Keane performing the song live.

There are also a large amount of covers available on YouTube.


All factual information comes as a synthesis of information collected on Wikipedia and on the FAQ page from Keaneshaped.co.uk.

Open Listenings 1

In listening to the work, the first thing that is striking about it is the mood. The song seems to have a very melancholy and tranquil feel to it. Yet at the same time, there is a sense of unrest, a sense that there is a problem. This is heightened by the lyrics, which tell, among other things, that "She says she has no time for you now." The song is of a relatively gentle tempo, not too fast but not too slow. Another important and memorable aspect is the lead vocal. It is a clear male voice with a slight accent, which spends a great deal of time in the upper falsetto register for a very pure, almost crystalline effect.

The song is set by a very ambiguous and mysterious introduction, resting primarily on one note (in octaves). The verse begins with a minor chord, on a pad synthesizer that almost melts into the melody. Everything has very hard panning, leaving a very open or hollow sound in parts of the sound stage. When the melody begins, the sadness in the vocal is clear, both by the melody itself and the performer's tone. The addition of drums brings in a more driving feel, along with a rhythmic figure in the piano. When it moves to the chorus, the sound gets much fuller, both in terms of harmony and panoramic sound, and the shift into major chords adds a noticeably brighter touch to the song, perhaps suggesting a cheerier mood. We then have another verse, a repeat of the chorus, and then an instrumental interlude dominated by an analog synthesizer sound. There is then a bridge, which is itself entirely a build into the final repeat of the chorus, fuller and stronger than ever before. The last chorus lets out into an outro based on the end of the chorus, marked by synthesizer sounds and a rhythmic bass which slowly fade to the end.

Historical Background

Keane is a band hailing from Battle, East Sussex, UK. It consists of three members, Tom Oliver Chaplin (Vocals, Live Keyboards), Tim James Rice-Oxley (Piano, Keyboards, Bass, Backing Vocals), and Richard Hughes (Drums, Live Vocals). Originally, there was also a fourth member of the band, Dominic Scott (Guitars), but he left in 2001. The band was formed originally as a cover band called Lotus Eaters by Rice-Oxley, Scott, and Hughes while they were studying at University College in London. Chaplin, an old friend of Rice-Oxley's (Chaplin and Rice-Oxley's brother Tom were born on the same day, causing their mothers to become good friends), joined later. At that point the band began to do more original songs, and after Chaplin spent a year in South Africa volunteering, they starting touring pubs throughout Great Britain. It was then that the band's name was changed, as Rice-Oxley described in an interview:

TC: Why the name Keane?
Tim Rice-Oxley: We were sitting in this pub in Dublin waiting to play a gig and were told that we needed a name. We hadn't actually gotten round to choosing one at that point, it was just one of those things we kept putting off.
Anyway, we were all reminiscing about this old lady who used to look after us when we were younger, her name was Cherry Keane. So in the end we decided to name ourselves after her. Later on we decided to drop the 'Cherry' part and just be known as Keane. We thought it was a magical name, we really liked it.

TC: So it has some significance then?
Tim Rice-Oxley:Yeah definitely. She was one of those people who really encouraged us to follow our dreams and do the musical stuff we loved rather than worrying about whether we were going to get 'proper' jobs. She was always really nice to us - even when we sounded completely awful! She has a special place in our hearts.

In 1999 and 2001, the band released two singles on their own independent label, Zoomorphic, even though only a small number were made (many of which were simply on unlabeled CD-R's). Soon after the second single, Scott left the group to continue his studies, and soon after that, Keane signed a publishing deal with BMG Publishing. They recorded a few sessions in this time in France, where they started to toy with the idea of using the piano as a main instrument. However, without a recording contract and with few gigs in 2002, they had a rough time.


Soon, the answer came in the form of Simon Williams of Fierce Panda Records, who had discovered Coldplay a few years before. He offered to release the single "This Is The Last Time," a big hit which led to a bidding war between major record labels. The band eventually decided to sign with Island Records in 2003. They released two singles on this label before finally releasing their first full album, Hopes and Fears. Released on May 10, 2004, It consists of twelve songs, including "She Has No Time," a song written by Rice-Oxley supposedly to cheer Chaplin up:

"I always find this quite a hard thing to tell people about, 'cause I don't know how an audience is going to react...but this song is basically about being in love with someone and they're not in love with you, and this was something that happened to me a few years ago...Anyway, this fellow here [Tim] wrote this song, as a way of sort of comforting me at the time. Anyway, it really is a song that means so much to me, because it was basically Tim putting his arm around my shoulder and saying 'Don't worry, this happens to everyone at some stage'."

Also receiving writing credit for the song is James Sanger, who is the reason the band recorded in France in 2002 and who also receives writing credit for the songs "Bedshaped," "This Is The Last Time," "Sunshine," "Walnut Tree," and "To The End Of The Earth." Hopes and Fears hit #1 on the UK charts, and as high as #45 on the US charts. It is estimated that it has sold between 4 and 5.5 million copies worldwide.


Following the success of their first album, Keane embarked on their first world tour. They then released their second album, Under the Iron Sea, in May 2006 and toured for that album as well. Along with successes for their songwriter, Rice-Oxley (he collaborated with Gwen Stefani, has written songs for various films, and won the 2004 Ivor Novello Songwriter of the Year award), the band continues to find success touring the globe, and is currently recording their third album, expected to come out September 2008.

Syntax

In terms of larger structure, "She Has No Time" consists of an Intro, an A section (verses), a B section (choruses), a C section (the bridge), and a Coda. It is arranged in the following order: Intro, A, A, B, A, B', A', C, B', Coda, clearly visible in the structure of the sheet music, which makes good use of repeats and a D.S. al Coda. There is no key change throughout the piece, so it is technically in the same key throughout the entire piece, but the different sections focus on different tonal areas. The focus for the intro and for the verses is likely Dm, although with a look at a chord reduction, one can see that it is by no means a typical chord progression. Normal cadences are almost entirely avoided. Thus, the only way to really get a sense of the tonal center (a few different ones could apply) is by feel. The A section, though abnormal, keeps returning to Dm, implying it as the tonic. However, when it moves to the chorus, the center definitely changes. The G major chord at the end of the A section as shown goes directly into a C major chord in root position. This, the G is a pivot chord, becoming the V of C major. Yet even still, the chorus shows an odd chord progression. The repeats of the A section have the same chord progression, and the B' sections simply repeat the first four bars of the last example. The bridge, however, is different. It is the only one with a chord progression that makes any sense tonally. It firmly establishes C as the tonal center, and since it comes to the same cadence at the end going into the repeat of the B section, C can be confirmed as the tonic for the chorus.After the last repeat of the chorus, the Coda sits on the Fmaj7 chord, which, though not tonicized, feels relatively stable.

Sound-In-Time

0:00 - 0:15 A bell-like synthesized sound opens the piece, only on the right channel.

0:15 - 0:28 The synthesizer continues, eventually bridging over to the left channel, but first a pulsing bass drum and whooshing sounds enter on the left channel.


0:28 - 0:56 The pulsating continues close to center as
synthesizer pad chords enter in the left channel. A light male vocal is set on top, centered on the sound stage.

0:56 - 1:23 The pulsating,
synthesizer pad, and vocals continue. A bass drum, hi-hat, and rim click are added for rhythm, as well as a rhythmic piano figure in the right channel.

1:23 - 1:50 The drums and pad
synthesizer continue; the vocal moves into a higher, cleaner register. An addition of bass synthesizer, string synthesizers, and a jumping, rhythmic clavichord-like synthesizer open up the sound for fullness, depth, and warmth.

1:50 - 2:17 The bass and drums continue, the
synthesizer pad continues with a slightly brighter sound, and the vocal moves down to a lower register. A rhythmic piano figure is added.

2:17 - 2:56
The drums (with a snare sound in place of a rim click sound now) and pad synthesizer continue; the vocal moves into a higher, cleaner register. An addition of bass synthesizer, string synthesizers, and a jumping, rhythmic clavichord-like synthesizer open up the sound for fullness, depth, and warmth. The effect is loud, sustained, and strong.

2:56 - 2:58 A higher-pitched synthesizer sound fades in on top of everything as that starts to wane.

2:58 - 3:25 The high synthesizer, the drums, bass synthesizer the pad synthesizer, and the clavichord-like synthesizer continue. Everything else leaves.

3:25 - 3:52 The drums and clavichord sound continue. The pad synthesizer sound brightens up some into a more organ-like sound, the male vocal returns in a low register, slowly getting higher. The entire effect slowly gets louder.

3:52 - 4:25
The drums, bass, and pad synthesizer continue; the vocal moves into a higher, cleaner register. An addition string synthesizers brightens the sound considerably. The effect is loud, sustained, and strong.

4:25 - 4:39 The vocal stops. A synthesizer is added in the left channel playing a jumpy, cyclical, steady rhythmic figure. The general effect very slowly starts to decline in strength.

4:39 - 4:46 A sustained, gentle synthesizer sound is added to the right channel.

4:46 - 4:53 Everything continues except the string and pad synthesizers, which stop.

4:53 - 5:43 With a cymbal crash, everything stops except the jumpy synthesizer in the left channel, the sustained synthesizer in the right channel, and the bass synthesizer, which begins to move between the right and left channels. The three very slowly fade into silence.

Musical and Textual Representation

The lyrics to "She Has No Time" are listed below (or can be found here if you'd rather flip between tabs than scroll).

You think your days are uneventful
And no one ever thinks about you

She goes her own way

She goes her own way


You say your days are ordinary

And no one ever thinks about you

But we're all the same

And she can hardly breathe without you
She says she has no time

For you now

She says she has no time


Think about the lonely people

Then think about the day she found you

Or lie to yourself

And see it all dissolve around you


She says she has no time

For you now

She says she has no time

For you now

She says she has no time


Lonely people tumble downwards
My heart opens up to you

When she says

She has no time

For you now

She says she has no time

For you now

She says she has no time

When first looking at the text, the lyrics may seem a bit vague, though clearly centered on a woman.
This is clearly evident by the pronoun use of "She." However, when examining the standpoint that Chaplin described in the quote from the Historical Background, it becomes clearer that the song embodies a person trying to cheer up their friend, who is depressed by an unreturned love. From this perspective, the lyrics and music all fit into place.

The first verse probes the friend's experience, describing how they feel and projecting what those feelings are, i.e. worthlessness or lack of importance. The repetition of the line "She goes her own way" describes how the recipient of the song sees that the woman in question has left and is taking her own path, her own course of life, which evidently does not include the recipient. The first two lines of the second verse continue in this vein, almost literally repeating the first line. But then there is a shift. This is where the cheering up comes in. The third line of the second verse reads, "But we're all the same," which speaks not to the idea that everyone feels the things that have been so far described, but that everyone goes through the experience that the recipient is going through. At some point, everyone will love someone who does not love them back. And yet, the next line implies that she does love him, even if she says she doesn't, "And she can hardly breathe without you." This sets up a question almost, leading the listener to wonder, "Well, if she can hardly breathe without me, why isn't she with me?"

In the chorus that follows, the question is answered. "She says she has no time for you now." She may love you, but she simply does not have the time for a significant other. This theme is common in romantic stories, where a couple will break up because one person wants to focus on their career, or on their family, or whatever. It should be noted that there is some uncertainty implied by the use of "She says," as if the reason she's giving isn't the real reason. However, the song never tackles that question, and it does not need to, for reasons that will be discussed later.

Then, the singer starts to take over the thought process. "Think about the lonely people / and think about the day she found you." He asks the friend to consider how many people in the world are lonely and without someone to love at all, and how meeting this girl removed him from that pool. It may remind the listener of the saying, "It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." He then says, "Or lie to yourself / and see it all dissolve around you." He forces the point with this, saying that the recipient could simply lie to himself by believing that he would have been better off never meeting the girl, because of the pain he's in. If he does, the singer asserts, the very fact that he has met someone and been removed from the population of lonely people will completely disappear; he will become a lonely person if he does not recognize the fact that he is better for having loved, even if it isn't returned.

He then repeats the chorus, reminding us that the girl has no time for him now, although this time, it is lengthened by one repeat of that phrase. This could be to emphasize the point further, or it could be a reference to the concept of time. The girl has no time, so I as the singer will spend more time with you.

Then, we reach the bridge, where we hear, "Lonely people tumble downwards." Although metaphorical in nature, this is a fairly clear statement. People who are lonely--the people who have never loved, and what the recipient will become if he does not recognize the girl's positive influence on his life--continue to sink further into their depression, their loneliness. However, "lonely" in this case can also refer to the simple concept of someone who does not have anyone to help them through things, considering the next lines (which run into the first part of the chorus), "My heart opens up to you / when she says she has no time." The singer is saying, "I am here for you. When she has put you down like this because of whatever she has to deal with, I will be here to help you through it." This then moves into a repeat of the chorus, again lengthened like the second time, as if to prove his intention to stay with the recipient in the way that was implied before.

Musically, everything serves to help the text. The beginning, where the text describes the pain being experienced, is very hollow, ambiguous, and open. It is also characterized by a great deal of minor chords. As the song moves through the progression from the sadness into the cheering up, more instruments are added to create a stronger rhythm and a general fullness and warmth. There is a moment in the middle, the interlude before the bridge, where it moves back to the minor feel and the synthesizer melody wails above. It is as if to suggest that the recipient is still upset, and is wailing and mourning the loss. If imagining the song as a scene with two friends in conversation, the singer is trying to cheer the other up, and when he continues to wail, it compels the singer to move into the bridge, where the strongest message of the song, "My heart opens up to you when she says..." comes out.

There is one particular recurring moment in the song (which is actually missing from the UNC Clef Hangers version) where the music, as if trying to speak for the singer, tries to force a cheer-up. For all of the verses, and the musical interlude, the D chords that we hear are all minor. However, in the chorus, on the words "For you now," the F becomes an F#, making it a glaring D major chord (with an added ninth). It brightens the feel immeasurably, as if trying to force the friend to cheer up.

The end of the song, however, marks a return to the more hollow sound without drums, without chords, and without a singer. At first, one might be compelled to think that the friend has fallen back into the depression, despite the singer's attempts. However, there are some differences that seem to suggest quite the opposite. The bass line, before stagnant, moves from an F up to a G temporarily, and is rhythmic, suggesting motion and activity. Additionally, there is a cyclical keyboard part going through the entire ending. This could be implying the notion of time, moving faster now (it is the fastest continuous rhythm of the entire piece), or it could refer to the same motion and activity that the bass implies. Regardless, the fact that it contains the B natural above the F in the bass suggests the Lydian mode, and results in a much brighter feel. We also hear a synthesizer moving between two notes, with just the sort of inflection that suggests, at least in my opinion, the words, "Thank you." The friend, although not completely cured of his pain, feels better about the situation with the help of the singer, and is responding by thanking him.

Virtual Feeling

In listening to this piece, I experience various emotions that can be described with the notion of Virtual Feeling. In fact, I see the piece as being a progression of virtual feelings. At the beginning, most certainly the prevailing feeling is sadness and melancholy. As the piece progresses, the melancholy remains--the general mood of loving without return stays throughout the entire song--but the sadness slowly disappears. As the singer urges to consider that loving the girl has been a good thing, the feeling is more one of nostalgia perhaps, or maybe something closer to happy reminiscence. Then, when the singer reveals that he will be there for his friend to help him out, the feeling of sadness is almost entirely replaced with feelings of gratefulness. I feel grateful that this person has someone so caring and helpful in their life, and that they have someone to lean on in times of trouble. Again, the melancholy is still there, but it is no longer oppressive and coupled with a sadness that feels inescapable. There is now hope.

Onto-historical World

Keane, though established as a group in 1995, were all born in the mid-seventies. As a result, the music around them as they were growing up and which influenced them heavily were the things that were popular during the late eighties and early nineties. However, it is also evident that they reached back to listening to music before their time, as the band noted in an interview,

"We grew up listening to The Beatles, Paul Simon, The Pet Shop Boys, Michael Jackson, Queen, and then got into U2, R.E.M, The Smiths, and Radiohead. I guess it's classic song writing that is the main influence rather than one band in particular - we love people like Nick Drake who can convey so much emotion and write songs and albums that will be loved and cherished for many years - the things that will be in people's record collections for their whole lives."

Thus, their style emerged out of the very notion of songwriting. The fact that they were able to center their music around the piano rather than the guitar (which was typical of the age), although significant, was entirely a result of losing one of their members. By any other means, they would be just like any other rock band with guitar-heavy music. The fact that so much music was dominated by the guitar made the fact that their music was not so important to their success. It is also important to notice the timing of their success. The band came to fame in the late nineties/early millennium, when recording technology was starting to become commonplace enough that anyone could create songs. In fact, that is just what they did--their first few singles were released independently, something that could never have been done had the band emerged even a decade earlier.

Open Listenings 2

In having explored the various forms of musical analysis for this song, I found that listening to it was a very different experience. Not only could I appreciate the sounds for themselves, but I could really feel and relate to the lyrics in a way that I wasn't able to before. While listening, I found myself remembering times when I have been in a situation of unreturned love, and I found myself persuaded by the song to look at them positively. I also found myself picturing the people who I know would be there for me in the way the singer describes.

I also picked up on a few things I hadn't noticed before, like the intensity in the singer's voice during the last repeat of the chorus, so much more than it ever was before. And, although I had been aware of the hard panning of the various elements, I found myself able to put them together and listen in a total field manner, rather than merely two dimensional. It heightened the emotion conveyed by the piece.

I also, for the first time, thought about how heavily electronic the song is, and yet when one might think that would detract from a song of this type, it rather heightens the effect, because it allows the artist to open up certain areas of the frequency spectrum with more control and accuracy than can be achieved with acoustic instruments. Conversely, it allows the artist to fill up a larger part of the frequency spectrum, and with more control and accuracy than can be achieved with acoustic instruments. It makes for a wonderful package.

Performance Guide

Anyone trying to perform the piece must attend to one thing above all: expression of emotion. This song is very much about providing a progression from sadness to hopefulness, and every performance choice must be made with that intention in mind. For some more specific points along those lines:
  • If using the original instrumentation, then much of this will be achieved on its own, but there must be a clear distinction between the sections in terms of feel. The choruses are brighter and stronger than the verses, but the verses should have a clear progression into brighter and stronger realms as the song goes on.
  • The bridge should start soft and grow to be loud and more intense, as the bridge reflects the progression of the entire piece within itself, both musically and textually.
  • The change to the D major chords in the choruses should be emphasized.
  • The vocal should never be heavy; it should float above the accompaniment.
  • Special care should be taken to sing the exact lyrics. Every word (even small conjunctions and articles) seems to have been carefully chosen to produce the right meaning.
  • While there should not be too little action, i.e. no movement whatsoever, there should not be large amounts of motion, so as to not distract from the lyrics, which are of prime importance.
  • Special attention should be given to the tempo. If the piece speeds up or slows down at all, it could ruin the musical affect of the piece.
This is, of course, not to say that different interpretations are impossible, but these are some ideas that will help convey the emotion behind the text more effectively.

Meta-Critique

First, I'd like to note that I dislike the heading for this section of the analysis. The use of "Meta" seems entirely appropriate, as it is used in the context of "beyond." That is most definitely what this section is supposed to do--to go beyond the critique. But that's the problem I have right there: the word "Critique." It implies that in performing an eclectic analysis, I am in some way passing judgment on the work; that I am deciding if it is a good or bad piece. I suppose in some way I do pass judgment on the work throughout my analysis, but since the intention of the eclectic analysis, or at least in the elements inspired by Husserl, is to bracket out preconceived ideas and notions about the work, it feels entirely wrong to call the analysis a critique. It is an analysis. Of course, it is not an analysis in the normal, conventional sense of an analysis, but it is an analysis, and most certainly not a critique. Therefore, the heading for this section, in my opinion, should be "Meta-Analysis," or something else to that effect.

But on to the actual point of this section.


The present analysis is an attempt to get at the heart of the piece by attacking it from all directions, and to provide the analyst with a more comprehensive appreciation of the work at all levels. While I most certainly feel that this happened, it is possible that I got myself stuck into the mindset for the piece that the composers had when writing it. While I feel this is important to do at some point, since the text was carefully chosen by them to express their intentions, it is possible that there are radically different ways to interpret the song that I may not have noticed. It is also possible that more referential elements could have emerged with more research.

However, it does feel that each level of analysis was carefully attended to, so the fact that the mindset that I may have gotten stuck in held up to all levels should attest to its possible accuracy. At the very least, a large amount of data was generated regarding this song, which could assist another analyst in their work should they try to analyze the same song.

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Mini Eclectic Analysis of Nightfishing at Antibes

Open Viewing
When first looking at the painting, the most striking aspect is the general color mood. There are very dark tones, suggesting the "night" portion of the "Nightfishing" in the title. However, I am struck by the presence of what clearly appears to be the sun in the upper middle portion of the painting. The use of reds and oranges explicitly suggest sun, rather than moon, which is ironic considering the title. The next thing my eye tries to do while looking at the painting is identify all of the figures. There appear to be two women on the right side of the painting, standing on some sort of brick wall construct. In the middle is a man, bent over and piercing a fish. Next to him in the boat appears to be a dog or other similar animal. There is another fish in the water, and next to it, in the lower left corner of the painting, appears to be a crab or something similar, but it is difficult to tell. In the upper left area, there are two figures that appear to be birds. The one thing that catches my attention as not being able to at all identify is the object between the man's hand and the women. It appears to be emanating light. Maybe a lighthouse? It is hard to tell.

Historical (All stolen directly from the slides)
Pablo Picasso was born on October 25, 1881, in Málaga, Spain. The son
of an academic painter, José Ruiz Blanco, he began to draw at an early
age. In 1895, the family moved to Barcelona, and Picasso studied there at
La Lonja, the academy of fine arts. His visit to Horta de Ebro from 1898
to 1899 and his association with the group at the café Els Quatre Gats
about 1899 were crucial to his early artistic development.
• In 1900, Picasso’s first exhibition took place in Barcelona, and that fall he
went to Paris for the first of several stays during the early years of the
century. Picasso settled in Paris in April 1904, and soon his circle of
friends included Guillaume Apollinaire, Max Jacob, Gertrude and Leo
Stein, as well as two dealers, Ambroise Vollard and Berthe Weill.
His style developed from the Blue Period (1901–04) to the Rose Period (1905) to
the pivotal work Les Demoiselles d’Avignon (1907), and the subsequent evolution
of Cubism from an Analytic phase (ca. 1908–11), through its Synthetic phase
(beginning in 1912–13). Picasso’s collaboration on ballet and theatrical productions began in 1916. Soon thereafter, his work was characterized by neoclassicism and a renewed interest in
drawing and figural representation.From 1925 into the 1930s, Picasso was involved to a certain degree with the Surrealists, and from the fall of 1931 he was especially interested in
making sculpture. In 1932, with large exhibitions at the Galeries Georges Petit, Paris, and the
Kunsthaus Zürich, and the publication of the first volume of Christian Zervos’s catalogue raisonné, Picasso’s fame increased markedly. By 1936, the Spanish Civil War had profoundly affected Picasso, the expression of which culminated in his painting Guernica (1937, Museo
Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofia, Madrid). While a sort of false peace prevailed in l938-39, Picasso painted the monumental Night Fishing at Antibes, perhaps the most mysterious and
mesmerizing of all his works. Painted after a visit to the seaside town with his mistress, Dora Maar, the artist presents men in rowboats spearing fish at night with the help of
flashlights.

Syntax
I know little of art analysis, but I can tell that the painting seems to be organized in terms of areas of low activity and high activity. There is little activity in the lower portion of the painting, where there is only water, whereas right above that we have the four largest figures, all of whom are suggested to be very active. Above that there is less action, but still some. Generally speaking, there is more activity on the left side of the painting than the right. The painting has few straight lines.

The rest of an eclectic analysis would continue here, with phenomenological and referential discussion as well as another open viewing, and then a meta-critique. Most of those elements can be partially seen in the first open viewing.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Authentic Swing Open Viewing 2

The first thing that struck me on watching this video was how much the scene resembled a piece of music. There is certainly music involved (which is a piece in and of itself), but I refer to the entire audiovisual experience as being a piece.

Soundtrack-wise, the build is clear once the music comes in. It starts softly, builds to a moment of climax, and then near the end it almost entirely disappears. However, looking at the dialogue, the sounds of the night, the sound effects, and the synthesized ambient noises, the build is even more obvious. We start with just the night sounds, and slowly add in the dialogue (which is, even content-wise, light). The sound effects are light as well. The next thing to be added are the ambient, sweeping sounds that we would never expect to hear in nature, occurring when the dialogue moves to the more mystic content. Throughout, the sounds all build, adding a moment of layering of all the elements and even one of the actor's voices, adding both intensity (in terms of volume) and intensity (in terms of feeling).

Visually, we experience the same build. The scene starts relatively stationary, movement is added, and then we focus on one element, which gains more and more importance as the dialogue enhances it. Eventually, we come to a point where we get a visual feast of images of the night, including landscapes, a cricket silhouette, and the moon, and the scene ends with a focus on the young boy, back to the relatively stationary feel of the beginning.

Sunday, February 3, 2008

Misunderstood

(This is expected to appear on the new Faith page of the Washington Square News on February 13th)

Christianity has its priests and nuns; Islam has its imams; Buddhism has its monks. These are the people who devote their lives to understanding and, in many cases, teaching, the traditions and philosophies of their religion. As anyone who practices any of these can tell you, however, these people are a small percentage of those who belong to each faith. If I say “Christian,” you are likely to picture a churchgoer or perhaps a famous person of that religion. If I say “Muslim,” it is unlikely that you will picture an imam. But, for some reason, if I say “Buddhist,” you are likely to picture a monk.

Just as in the other religions, these people are somewhat of a misrepresentation of what Buddhism entails. Most Buddhists are normal, everyday people just like you and me. It is possible to lead a completely normal life (if anyone’s life can really be called “normal”) and be a Buddhist. This idea is only one of the abounding misconceptions about Buddhism.

Something that Christianity and Islam have in common, along with most religions of the world, is the belief in a “God” or other Supreme Being. Buddhism (although some people have tried to apply such beliefs to it) is not inherently theological in this sense. Many people think that when there is a statue of Buddha present, people are there to worship him, with Buddha being a sort of God. In reality, these people are paying respect to the “Great Buddha,” the man whose beliefs and philosophies are the basis for the religion.

The Great Buddha was a man names Siddhartha Gautama who, after spending a great deal of his life searching for answers about life, sat down to meditate, staying there for 49 days. When he got up, he had come to a few conclusions about the world. The first was that life is filled with discontent (anyone familiar with the philosophies will know that I am taking some liberties with the translations, as the statements can be interpreted in many ways). The second was that the root of this discontent is desire. The third is that there is a way to stop discontent: his fourth point, a set of ideas that he referred to as the “Noble Eightfold Path.” These four main points were called the “Four Noble Truths,” and are the foundation of Buddhist thought.

The Noble Eightfold Path is somewhat analogous to the Ten Commandments in Judaism and Christianity; it is a sort of moral code and set of ideas on how a person should behave in order to reach “nirvana,” a state where discontentment ceases. A person in this state is generally described by deep understanding, happiness, and heightened awareness. Anyone who reaches nirvana can be called a “Buddha,” which literally means “Enlightened One.” This is the goal for a Buddhist. The Noble Eightfold Path is not even that complicated—the eight points are: Right Speech, Right Actions, Right Livelihood, Right Understanding, Right Thoughts, Right Effort/Exercise, Right Mindfulness/Awareness, and Right Concentration/Meditation.

Meditation itself (although Yoga is helping change this) tends also to be misunderstood. Meditation is all about understanding, both inward and outward. It is intended to help you know who you are and what you think, as well as heighten your awareness of things around you. Although this is not necessarily a direct goal, it also tends to be very relaxing. It’s easy to start-you can meditate anywhere, anytime, and in any position (within reason). People tend to picture the cross-legged meditation where someone is chanting “Om. Although this is actually one type of practice, you can meditate in many ways—including just sitting down in a chair. All you have to do is focus on one thing (generally your own breathing) and try to clear your mind of all other thoughts.

Of course, meditation and Buddhism are a little more complicated than this, but pretty much every element of both can be derived from these basic ideas. If you’ve read up to this point and still want to know more, stop by a Buddhist Student Association meeting sometime. You do not have to be Buddhist or know anything about meditation to attend a meeting. We get together in Kimmel 910 on Tuesdays at 8:30 pm. Meetings can usually last an hour to two hours, spent meditating for ten to fifteen minutes and then discussing some chosen topic and how it relates to Buddhism. If you’re unsure, but know you’re curious, stop on by. We’d love to clear things up for you.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Form in Art

A formal analysis in music, something common in a class of music theory or even aural comprehension, is both fundamental to and a byproduct of musical training. In a formal analysis of music, we analyze "formal" elements: the individual chords, the chord structures, deviations from those structures, and larger pieces that come together to represent the form of the piece. We are taught how to make this type of analysis, and then made to perform such analyses to further our understanding of music on a purely technical level.

To my knowledge, the visual arts do not get the same type of treatment. While you may be able to find "art theory" classes (if you're lucky), I would find it incredibly surprising if artists were required to study as much theory as their music-major counterparts.

But then again, they are subject to completely different circumstances. Most, if not all, visual art students study the creation of art, whereas only a small portion of music students study specifically to composer. After all, they are completely different media. Music is all about how things happen over time; it is impossible to experience a musical piece all at one moment. Art, on the other hand, is grounded in the simultaneous. You may appreciate smaller details about a piece of art after viewing it for some time and focusing on smaller parts, but the viewing essentially occurs in an instant. Additionally, music (although this paradigm is completely changing with the use of recordings, electronics, and most specifically sequencers that eliminate this need) requires a slew of performers to realize the creation of the composer. Art requires no one except the artist.

However, there is at least one similarity that makes the task of formally analyzing a piece of art a much more conceivable goal. In music analysis, it is common to hear the word "color" when referring to intentional deviations from a more diatonic setting. If this concept can justly be referred to as "color," then it is easy to find a parallel in visual art, since "color" is generally thought to be a visual concept. But is this necessarily a formal element?

The very term "color" in music occurs most often in discussion of modal mixture. Thus, there is clearly a frame of reference required for the term to even come into play. An Ab major chord may not be particularly exciting or colorful, unless it is used in a piece that is in a key like C major. Thus, it is not the specific chords in music or elements of art that become important, but rather the differences and contrasts, the deviation or fulfillment of created expectations, that gives something its formal relevance. Now we have something more formal to work with.

The "form" of a piece of music is determined by the relationships between larger sections of these expectation-fulfillment or expectation-defiance elements. With our previously-defined method for formal analysis on a smaller scale, defining larger form in visual art becomes easier. We can see it as the relationships between larger sections of a piece of art as it relates to structural or color elements. Just as in music, the content itself, or the setting of the smaller elements, may be worth noting, but is not of primary importance to a formal analysis.

So now, with these ideas in mind, I will undergo my attempt (seeing as I have very limited art knowledge) to formally analyze Edward Hopper's Early Sunday Morning. Admittedly, I studied Hopper in high school, so I have a bit of a head start with the research I have previously done, but I will try to keep my analysis fresh.
The first thing, upon viewing this piece, that strikes me is the clearly-defined color sections. There is a blue of the sky at the top, the strip of greenish-gray at the top of the buildings, the red of the second floors, down the the green of the storefronts, and the yellow of the street. But within those sections, there are deviations that make things more interesting. The sky has a piece of the building jutting into it, the strip of greenish-gray actually has hints of red thrown in, the second floor sports the irregularly-colored windows (some of which have yellow blinds, others do not), the storefronts are littered with colored awnings, windows, and text, as well as a barber's pole and a specific store that for some unknown reason is colored differently, and the yellow of the ground has the fire hydrant. Throughout the lower of these sections, shadows cut through in somewhat inconsistent directions.

Additionally, the barber's pole stands out by sporting diagonal stripes of color, while the rest of the painting is dominated by strong horizontal lines.

Friday, January 25, 2008

Pics

Some pictures I took...with a crappy camera. I have prints of these 4 hanging in my room.

Throne of a Democratic King














Precipitation














Sea of the City (The Washington Square Park Fountain)













Little Girl

An Unfinished Essay

If I ever decide to finish this, it'll be about the promising advent of technology and how its misuse can lead to our ultimate destruction. Or something like that.

Atlanta is being taken over by evil robots. The airport is, anyway. The most obvious infiltrators include a creepy egg-shaped travel clock that rocks back and forth incessantly, a massage char that clamps tight to the unsuspecting user's arms and legs before the massage begins, and an army of trash cans that periodically "eat" the trash to make room for more. Their eerie presence, reminiscent of old Sci-Fi thrillers, is both fascinating and terrifying.
But fear is most certainly not the reason for their existence. Each of these devices is meant to be helpful in some way. The clock, named "Bob" after its tendency to bob around, is multifunctional, sporting a clock, calendar, alarm, and world clock all in a conveniently-small, somewhat adorable egg-shaped container with a psychedelic multi-colored screen. The massage char, though scary at first, is relaxing enough to relieve the user of any torturous expectations, featuring many different programs of massage. Just don't try to get up before it's done. The trash cans help both the airport staff, which is no longer required to be so intensely vigilant about emptying trash cans, and the customers, who can now avoid those classically annoying messy situations where there's too much trash and not enough trash can. Just be careful not to drop something inadvertently into these trash compacters; you will never see it again.
All technological advances, designed to improve the quality of our lives, come with their share of benefits balanced with problems. Henry Ford's automobile, and its subsequent transformation into the modern car, was a brilliant invention that allowed people to go to new places faster than ever before. We began to develop wider social networks and broader tastes, as the truck enabled more efficient (and therefore cheaper) trade. However, not only is our heavy reliance on cars blamed for ozone layer depletion, greenhouse gas buildup, and therefore global warming, accidents, or "crashes," are the leading cause of death in most age groups, particularly the young teenagers who are just learning to use them.
Most, if not all, new developments carry a heavy learning curve. My grandfather is a smart man, but he was completely confounded upon his first encounter with a computer. He still does not quite understand how it even works, as is the case for a depressingly large amount of computer users. Most people can check their e-mail, surf the internet, and manage a few other programs and hardware (provided they are taught how). If problems arise, help is called in. Thus, we have become a generation not just of development, but of instructions. The people who know how things work write out simple instructions so that people who normally would be deprived of the technology can at least use it, even if they have no clue how it works.
But this creates a huge problem. Although instructions can allow someone to use a technology, they only go so far, leaving a use trapped in a world they don't understand. When something is not understood, it is much less likely to serve its purpose. Ask people how the internet works and few people will be able to give a true, comprehensive answer. Ask them why it was created, and the responses will be even more sparse. Admittedly, I do not know why the internet was created. However, I do know that its two most widespread uses: shopping and social networking, were not part of the original plan. The internet existed long before sites and programs like AOL, AIM, eBay, Amazon.com, Yahoo!, Facebook, and MySpace (to name a few).

Me Without You

What WOULD I be

Without you?

I would be

Better slept,

Better on time,

Better prepared

I would be

More relaxed,

More rich,

More of a friend to others

I would do

More homework,

More studying,

More of the things I need to do

I would do

Less spending,

Less procrastination,

Less staying up until 3 AM doing nothing productive

I would be

Clearer,

Cleaner,

Richer,

And quite possibly, better

But, what WOULDN’T I be

Without you?

I wouldn’t be inspired,

I wouldn’t be happy,

And I wouldn’t be me.

Listening to the Music of the 21st Century

“I’m not ready to make nice,” wails Natalie Maines of the Dixie Chicks, claiming to be “mad as hell,” and wondering how someone could possibly feel so angry over something she said that they would send her a letter threatening her life. Sadly, this letter was not something she invented; not only were concert sales destroyed following her public criticism of President George W. Bush in 2003, but she also received multiple death threats from people who found her beliefs, and specifically her willingness to speak up against the government, to be an outrage. The above song, “Not Ready to Make Nice,” was released in 2006 and embodied the Dixie Chicks’ refusal to give in to pressures to keep politics out of their music.

Musicians have always found ways of making statements about the world around them in their music, providing a lasting, first-hand commentary on historical events. In his book The Rest Is Noise: Listening to the Twentieth Century, Alex Ross, music critic for The New Yorker, compiles these first-hand accounts to form a sort of history book told through music. In prose rich with musical terminology, Ross examines how historical events in the twentieth century have been reflected in the music of the time from the point of view of the composers, and even goes as far as to describe how the reverse can occur: how music can influence history. After following Ross’s guided tour through the past century of music, one then feels equipped to apply his ideas to the present and future of both music and politics, specifically as it relates to composers, songwriters, and producers of today.

As opposed to other books of history which present everything from an outsider’s point of view, Ross shows the composers in a close-up, writing their stories almost like characters in a novel. The language is, not surprisingly, past tense, but one can sense a drama unfolding, particularly with Ross’s extensive descriptions of events through scene imagery. In his first essay, “The Golden Age,” Ross writes of Richard Strauss’s piece, “The premiere of Salome had taken place in Dresden five months earlier, and word had got out that Strauss had created something beyond the pale…based on a play by a British degenerate whose name was not mentioned in polite company” (3). By using phrases from the common speech of the time that rarely appear in print such as “word got out” or “in polite company,” the reader feels a sense of connection with the composers, making them go beyond being just composers and into the realm of being friends.

Works by these composers undergo a similar treatment. Rather than merely mention a piece and its overall significance, Ross, a musician himself, goes through incredibly deep analyses of classical works. A simple melody line can become a scene, or even a commentary on human life, in Ross’s eyes, as when he writes of Strauss’s Salome, “From the start, we are plunged into an environment where bodies and ideas circulate freely, where opposites meet. There’s a hint of the glitter and swirl of city life: the debonairly gliding clarinet looks forward to the jazzy character who kicks off Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue” (7). Without even hearing the piece, a description like this puts a very clear image into the reader’s head, not only of sound but of sight as well. Ross’s descriptions become even more exciting when he has the story of an opera or ballet to summarize in addition to his musical interpretation. In only one page, the reader is given a general overview of both the story of an opera like Salome and the music in the opera, and does not at all feel slighted.

These descriptions along with Ross’s clear, musical prose help keep the readers’ interest despite the fact that the book is really a history book in disguise; he makes a potentially boring subject exciting. He includes musical terms in regular speech, like when he describes in the essay “Doctor Faust” a, “slight disturbance that carried overtones of the most spectacular upheaval…” (33). An overtone is something common to musicians, being a note higher than a played note that are heard within the sound of a played note, as if both notes were struck together. While a non-musical person may understand the sentence, it takes a musician to really make the strong conceptual connection implied by Ross’s terms. Aside from simply borrowing musical terms in his speech, his writing style itself has a very musical element to it. Reading his text is very much like listening to Mozart, whose music is generally praised as having a fluid quality to it. Each note of Mozart leads to the next, as if Mozart simply wrote one note on the page, and that note wrote the next note, and so on until the piece was completed. Ross’s words share this flow, leading the reader through logical setup and resolution as he travels along in history.

Being a book of history, Ross finds himself interpreting historical events just as often as he interprets musical ones, and he writes about the two in a very similar fashion. His prose does not change through discussions of opera, ballet, musical works, politics, wars, Nazis, and death, forcing the reader to look for connections between distant concepts. In many cases, they even become intertwined, as he writes in “Music for All,” “On August 7, 1945, the day after the atomic bomb destroyed Hiroshima, Stravinsky added an extra pulse to the final chord [of his symphony], perhaps by way of honoring the immense military might of the country of which he was about to become a permanent citizen” (299). There may be no real connection between the duration of the final chord of Stravinsky’s Symphony in Three Movements and the military prowess of the United States, but Ross’s way of combining the two ideas forms a connection, if it did not already exist.

But, the evidence suggests that there was such a connection. According to Ross, “Stravinsky later cited newsreel footage of goose-stepping soldiers as a source of inspiration,” and included war-like sounds in the music (299). This war imagery may not be immediately noticeable to the audience, but it is likely that Stravinsky wanted to include some commentary on World War II in his writing. It is difficult for anyone to function in society without some form of political opinion, and artists like Stravinsky in the 20th century and the Dixie Chicks today are notorious for including their opinions in their art, whether it is painting, orchestral composition, songwriting, sculpture, photography, or any of a thousand other forms. Music in particular can be affected not only by adding lyrical imagery that many can enjoy, but by making shifts in music theory bases and overall sound qualities to create auditory imagery as well. “For a hundred years or more, masters from Austria and Germany had been marching music into remote regions of harmony and form,” Ross writes, “Their progress ran parallel to Germany’s gestation as a nation-state and its rise as a world power.” As German politicians and composers gained dominance, composers like “Debussy and Satie began to seek a way out…” (77). Ross spends a great deal of time examining Germany’s rise to power, and Nazism in particular, which seems fitting considering it had a huge social impact in the 20th century. Everyone knows of the changes Hitler caused, but few know of how deeply he affected classical music, as Ross describes in the essay “Death Fugue,” writing, “In the wake of Hitler, classical music suffered…incalculable physical losses—composers murdered in concentration camps, future talents killed on the beaches of Normandy and on the eastern front, opera houses and concert halls destroyed, émigrés forgotten in foreign lands…” (306). Just by virtue of taking the lives of many potential music revolutionaries, Hitler shaped the way music developed.

It should be no surprise, then, that following Hitler’s suicide, one of the measures taken to thwart supremacy by other nations was what is known as “psychological warfare.” As Ross outlines in “Zero Hour,” “Psychological warfare meant the pursuit of military ends by nonmilitary means, and in the case of music it meant the promotion of jazz, American composition, international contemporary music, and other sounds that could be used to degrade the concept of Aryan cultural supremacy” (346). The music of other cultures was introduced by the military to try to reverse everything that Hitler did to shut out others and place his race and his supremacist goals above everyone else. By merely exposing the people of Germany, particularly anyone who followed Hitler, to these types of music, there was a forced cultural diffusion. Jazz music is generally connected to African-American origins, so if Germans could be exposed to this type of music (and hopefully enjoy it), their ideas of cultural supremacy might change. No longer is history merely affecting music, but music is affecting history as well.

Richard Wagner is an important figure in this regard. As Ross notes, those responsible for many social movements (good and bad) cited Wagner and his operas as inspiration for either their ideas or a means to their ideas, including ultranationalists, liberalists, bohemians, African-American activists, feminists, Zionists, and Anti-Semites (12). It is no coincidence that Wagner was one of Hitler’s favorite composers for his Anti-Semitic ideas; Hitler was an avid classical music fan. Ross even goes as far as to say, “Classical music was one of the few subjects, along with children and dogs, that brought out a certain tenderness in Adolf Hitler” (305).

But, as Ross points out, the term “classical music” no longer refers to a specific genre. It has broadened to encompass both orchestral and avant-garde, baroque and electronic, a fact that makes its future hard to pin down. Ross avoids the topic for most of the book, not even making any definitive statements in the final essay about the future of classical music. Rather, he saves it for the Epilogue, where he argues that the Pop or “mainstream” genre and the classical genre, though generally pitted against each other, may be coming closer together. Pop increasingly uses elements of classical compositions, or instruments associated with classical music, and even the growing popularity of artists like Josh Groban, an almost operatic baritone, and classical music increasingly pulls in the exuberance of Pop music. “Composers may never match their popular counterparts in instant impact, but, in the freedom of their solitude, they can communicate experiences of singular intensity,” writes Ross, leading us to wonder what sort of sub- and combo-genres will emerge in the coming years (543).

Generally, classical music is known for showing its imagery through the music itself, using complex chords, timbres, and instrument combinations to create the desired feelings. Pop, on the other hand, is known for imagery in its lyrics. While the lyrics in “Not Ready to Make Nice” are powerful and hold great meaning, the chords are the same as in all the other Dixie Chicks songs (and most of Pop music). The song, although it has angry lyrics, does not sound angry. If Ross is right, then a combination between classical and Pop music could emerge which does both, a genre that I like to call “Popsical.” Broadway songwriters like Stephen Sondheim and Jason Robert Brown are already writing in a Popsical style, marrying powerful and imagery-rich music to even more powerful and imagery-rich lyrics. However, these songs are usually specific to a plot or text, and therefore stay out of the mainstream which is dominated by 3- to 4-minute bits of sound. Interestingly enough, Ross himself uses the term “Popsical” once in his online blog based on his book, when reviewing an attempt of the producers of Bang on a Can to have the public name their writing style. But, he does not like the term “Popsical,” or any of the others that were suggested by the public, including “Adventure Classical,” “Dismalism,” and “Post Secondary Modernists,” because he feels they imply that this music is, albeit influenced by classical, a move away from classical music. The terms, to a small degree, support the argument held by many that classical music is dying or dead. In the same article, Ross writes, “I have thought long and hard about this matter and come to the conclusion that the death of classical music is dead, and that all stories about this non-topic — including those protesting that classical music isn't dead after all, as well as those protesting that the entire discussion is a waste of time — are a waste of time” (“Dispassionate spasmodicism”). Classical music is alive and kicking, but it has changed, something it must continue to do before it can become as culturally important as it was throughout the history about which Ross writes.

Works Cited

Dixie Chicks. “Not Ready to Make Nice.” Taking the Long Way. Open Wide/Columbia, 2006.

Ross, Alex. “Dispassionate spasmodicism?” Alex Ross: The Rest Is Noise. 1 Feb, 2005. 6 December, 2007.

Ross, Alex. The Rest Is Noise: Listening to the Twentieth Century. New York, NY: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux.

“The Golden Age: Strauss, Mahler, and the Fin de Siècle.” 3-32.

“Doctor Faust: Shoenberg, Debussy, and Atonality.” 33-73.

“Dance of the Earth” The Rite, the Folk, le Jazz.” 74-119.

“Music for All: Music in FDR’s America.” 260-304.

“Death Fugue: Music in Hitler’s Germany.” 305-339.

“Zero Hour: The U.S. Army and German Music, 1945-1949.” 344-354.

“Sunken Cathedrals: Music at Century’s End.” 512-539.

“Epilogue.” 541-543.

Not Against Work

I was thrilled. At the ripe young age of ten, I made it onto the stage of Three Little Bakers Dinner Theatre. It was only a local professional theatre—not even equity—but in Delaware and at my age, it might as well have been Broadway. I was only the understudy for the normal kid, a boy who later came to be one of my closest friends, but for those four guaranteed performances, I was in heaven. The role was a big one in their annual Christmas show (much of which was stolen directly from the Radio City Music Hall’s “Christmas Spectacular”), and as someone who loved singing, dancing, and generally showing off to large crowds, the huge theatre was absolutely perfect. The fact that it was paid, and therefore a job, did not faze me one bit. I would have gladly worked there even if I was not compensated.

Working for no pay seems slightly counter-intuitive. In current usage, the term “work” describes a thing that we do in order to survive, not generally something of interest. It takes up all of our time, and each day we cannot wait to get back home and spend time doing other things; watching TV, spending time with family, and generally relaxing, to name a few. We work to get money, so theoretically we will only do the work that is necessary to get the pay we want. In his essay, “Against Work,” Christopher Clausen points out that this may not always be true. “Today those of us with full-time employment typically put in several hundred more hours per year than western Europeans,” Clausen writes, “Our disposable income is correspondingly higher, though when asked whether we would prefer more leisure to greater wealth, most of us opt for leisure” (Clausen, 672). We claim that we desire to have more free time, which makes sense with how we currently view work, as an inconvenient obligation. But, as Clausen makes clear, we define ourselves by our job and how long we spend there (672). When two strangers are introduced, almost inevitably the question will arise, “What do you do for a living?” In college, it may be even worse, as students are certain to ask each other, “What is your major?” We have not even entered the workforce yet, but already our lives are devoted to determining our future careers, and developing the skills necessary to do the jobs we want to do.

But, already I have begun to use the phrase “want to do” when talking about a job. Clausen never makes this distinction between jobs that we want to do and jobs we do not want to do, a classification that W.H. Auden makes clear in his short comments on “Work and Labor.” He defines “work” as a job that one is paid for but also takes interest in; “labor” is something entirely different, where one takes a job just for the money and ability to support their family, even though they have no interest in it (Auden, 654). Thus, there is nothing inherent in a job that makes it “work” or “labor;” any job can be either, depending on the attitude of the person doing the job. Clausen’s definition of “work” is much more unclear. There is no obvious subdivision of enjoyed work and hated work to Clausen; rather, he lumps it all into one big category called “work.”

Personally, I have never had to do what Auden calls “labor” for any significant amount of time—only as a quick favor to someone or as volunteer work. All of the working that I have done in my life has been in the theatre, a field which I thoroughly enjoy. I have been a performer, a stage manager, a spotlight operator, a music operator, and many other positions, all of which appeal to me. Although I am in college for a career path other than the theatrical arts, I know that if I found myself working in a theatre for the rest of my life, I would not be disappointed. Performing and working in technical theatre has provided some of the most enjoyable experiences of my lifetime. I believe with my entire being that my life would be significantly happier if I were to work in the theatre than, say, as a sanitation worker. A sanitation worker may, however, have the complete reciprocal feelings toward the two occupations. There are sanitation workers in this world who genuinely enjoy what they do, and it is certainly possible that some of those workers would hate to be on stage. Maybe they hate getting up in front of crowds, but love the feeling of doing something integral to the health and well-being of others.

A classification must be made, but the terms “work” and “labor” are too connected into our everyday language, having become almost interchangeable. Different people use the terms differently, so a new way to define these types of jobs must be created. To avoid the preconceived ideas about words in English, I must turn to German, where multiple ideas are easily and commonly presented in the same word, forming a compound with an entirely new meaning. A job that someone enjoys and makes them happy, called “work” in Auden’s dichotomy, is “Arbeitsliebe,” (pronounced Ahr-bites-lee-buh) literally meaning “work love.” On the flipside would be “Arbeitshass,” (pronounced Ahr-bites-hahss) or “work hate.” My own Arbeitsliebe would be working in a theatre in the above example, and my Arbeitshass would be sanitation work. Of course, these are not the only jobs to which these terms apply. I am studying Music Technology because I want to work in that field. Thus, any job I could get as a Music Technologist would be an Arbeitsliebe. In addition to sanitation work, I would hate to do many other jobs, like mining, factory work, food service, and the list goes on and on. The set of jobs I would hate to do are my Arbeitshasse, and the set of jobs I would love to do are my Arbeitslieben.

It seems significant, though, that even in Auden’s dichotomy, even the favorably-defined “work,” now “Arbeitsliebe,” has its downside. He says, “[A worker] is therefore more likely to take too little leisure than too much; workers die of coronaries and forget their wives’ birthdays,” (Auden, 654) which is the entire subject of Ellen Goodman’s essay, “The Company Man.” Goodman shows a man who works so hard that he eventually dies as a result of the way he treated his body, making it take a backseat to his job (Goodman, 629). Goodman never makes it clear what the subject’s attitude to his job is, so it cannot be easily classified in Auden’s system, but it seems as though the subject must have had some enjoyment in his work to have spent so much time there even when he was not required to.

Or maybe there’s something else going on in the essay. Even using the terms Arbeitsliebe and Arbeitshass leave a bit to be desired. It is possible for a person to spend a great deal of time, even when not required to, working in a job that they hate. A sanitation worker, particularly one working as a custodian, works long hours doing something that most people would never enjoy doing—cleaning up after others. Money becomes a big factor here, as a person who has a limited skill set may only be able to get a job with low pay, and as result must work longer hours to afford the things they want in life. Thus, a worker who hates his job could find himself working terribly long hours, and getting the same result in life as Goodman’s Company Man. Though perhaps less likely, the converse is also possible. A person may love their job but the job itself may call for short hours, or maybe they have restrictions due to labor unions, in which case a person could spend little time in their Arbeitsliebe.

Perhaps Clausen’s ambiguity about which type of work he is against is therefore intentional. Arbeitshass is simply bad because a person spends their time doing something they do not want to do, literally wasting their life away. Arbeitsliebe is just as dangerous, because a person is much more likely to focus their entire attention on the work and neglect the other things deemed important in life: family, health, and friends. Thus, a person can be happy with their work, but unhappy in all other aspects of life. Perhaps this explains the study findings that Clausen cites, where David Watson claims that people are just as happy in low-paying, low-status jobs as people in high-paying, high-status jobs, regardless of their interest in the field (675).

As such, Clausen’s recommendations against work, or at least toward reducing work, make sense, whether it is Arbeitshass, Arbeitsliebe, or anything in-between. It is the very subject of Ellen Gilchrist’s essay, whose title alone gives it all away, “The Middle Way: Learning to Balance Family and Work” (Gilchrist, 656). It seems that Clausen and Gilchrist argue the same thing: that as a society, we need to learn to balance work and other things in life. “The Middle Way” is something usually only referred to in Buddhist philosophy. The Middle Way to a Buddhist is a concept of non-extremism, trying to find a middle ground between self-indulgence and self-mortification. Clausen and Goodman would likely call the devotion to work a type of self-mortification, and Gilchrist wants us to find that balance between heavy devotion to work and the self-indulgence of spending life out of work. She wants us to find a point where we work enough to get the money we need to survive and live the life that we want to live, but where we do not work so much that we ignore other aspects of life. Her argument is perhaps the most realistic of the three in the sense that she acknowledges that working is something most people must do in order to survive, as most of us are not being lucky enough to be born into great wealth, but warns that spending all of our time working is bad.

I never had a problem with working long hours. In theatre (and most other music professions) long and usually sporadic hours are the norm. An actor may spend three hours working one day, and twelve the next rehearsing for an upcoming show, which after opening may require up to eight 3- or 4-hour time commitments spread throughout the week. To most other professionals, this sounds like a breeze, but working in the theatre is an incredibly exhausting profession. An actor in a musical is required to memorize a few hours’ worth of material, including spoken dialogue and music, as well as memorize where they are to go on stage at any given point, any and all dance steps, and where they should be backstage when they are not performing. The performance itself involves a high amount of energy, as the actor must dance, sing, and speak lines in a way that has been decided upon to convey the proper emotion, much of which is left up to the actor’s personal analysis. They must also juggle any changes of costume and/or microphones, any use of objects (props), and in some cases, the movement of set pieces throughout the show. What’s more, this all must be done in the same way every time. An audience member recommends a show because of the specific acting styles of the performers, and to keep more audience members coming back, nothing must change. No other profession requires such a high level of perfection and consistency. Music performance is exhausting on all imaginable levels.

But here is where I part from Clausen. To Clausen, such an exhausting job is not worth doing because it goes against the idea that “the purpose of life is to enjoy it,” but that is precisely what ends up happening in theatre (672). Clausen perhaps never got to reap the rewards of his seemingly-pointless job in the Heart Institute, because he never got to interact with the recipients of his work, but in theatre, that interaction is constant (674). An actor can see the audience from the stage. That in itself is something that generally does not occur to people, but it is something the actor knows and uses. Some people claim that a good actor can deliver the same performance regardless of the audience, but in my experience an audience’s reaction fuels the actor to continue and to perform with gusto and energy. The benefits to the actor are instantaneous. After a good song or scene, there is applause and the actor feels appreciated. If there is a good joke in the script, the audience laughs, and although it was not a joke of his invention, the actor still feels like a comedic genius. Depending on the general practices of the theatre itself, the actor may get the opportunity to meet with audience members following a performance, which is always a rewarding experience. Everyone loves to be told they’ve done a good job at something, and an actor gets to hear it hundreds of times in only a few hours’ time. It gets more exciting when the patrons elaborate.

A woman once came to me after a performance of The Sound of Music, in which I played Rolf, the mail-boy-turned-Nazi who loved the eldest of the von Trapp children, Liesl, and in the end of the play lets the family go despite his duty and opportunity to turn them in to his superiors. After shaking my hand, as audience members normally do, she pulled me into a hug and whispered, “I knew you wouldn’t do it.” To this woman, I had become something much more than an actor playing a role; I had become Rolf, the young boy who got mixed up with the wrong crowd but still managed to know where his heart lay. To this woman, I represented true love conquering the most terrible of circumstances, and the idea that sometimes things can go right in life when everything else goes horribly wrong. Moments like that make the effort of acting more than worth it. I could easily devote my life to earning those moments.

Clausen clearly never had that experience. To him, a professor, work is a chore that, although “some of what [he does] for a living is fun,” is not in any way outweighed by the rewards (673). That is what Arbeitsliebe is all about; the benefits—whether psychological, financial, social, or intellectual—afforded by a job overpowering the difficulties attached to it to create something that a person can easily spend their existence doing. Clausen believes that, “humans are the only animal that doesn’t think the purpose of life is to enjoy it,” but in reality, we merely enjoy it in a different way.


Works Cited

Auden, W.H. “Work and Labor.” Occasions for Writing. Ed. Pat C. Hoy II and Robert DiYanni. Boston: Wadsworth, 2008. 654.

Clausen, Christopher. “Against Work.” Occasions for Writing. Ed. Pat C. Hoy II and Robert DiYanni. Boston: Wadsworth, 2008. 672-676.

Gilchrist, Ellen. “The Middle Way: Learning to Balance Family and Work.” Occasions for Writing. Ed. Pat C. Hoy II and Robert DiYanni. Boston: Wadsworth, 2008. 656-659.

Goodman, Ellen. “The Company Man.Occasions for Writing. Ed. Pat C. Hoy II and Robert DiYanni. Boston: Wadsworth, 2008. 629-630.