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Archive » January 2006



Anti-Enlightenment nature of Jazz

By Cynthia R. Nielsen

January 31, 2006

Last Fall in my “What is Enlightenment?” course we read The Dialectic of Enlightenment by Horkheimer and Adorno. As a whole, I found the book quite interesting, though a difficult read. Some of the intriguing aspects include the following: a Foucaultian knowledge and power as synonymous thesis, criticism of the totalizing tendencies of the Enlightenment, and the thesis that rationality of the Enlightenment becomes purely functional–a functionalized reason with no content etc. However, the one thing that bothered me about the book was H & A’s negative view of jazz. (This in no way detracts from their overall critique, it just personally bothered me). In several places, H & A criticize jazz, yet their critique seems odd and somewhat misinformed. For example, they list Guy Lombardo as jazz figure and do not mention any African American figures. The strange thing about this is that the history of jazz, which of course involves the great suffering of African Americans, in some ways parallels H & A’s own sufferings as Jews. Given H & A’s negative presentation of jazz, I’ll try to paint a different picture for those of you who are not so familar with jazz, but who are open to giving it a try.

Two central elements of jazz are improvisation and syncopation. Improvisation might be defined as “instantaneous composition.” In other words, when a jazz player improvises, he or she is not playing written music, but is instead spontaneously composing, utilizing various scales, patterns, melodic lines etc. that he or she has practiced to the point that they are second nature. What many people do not realize is that improvisation did not originate with jazz. In fact, as R. Beirach notes, “prior to the beginning of the 19th century, the roles of composition, execution and improvisation were much less clearly separated, and accomplished musicians were expected to be adept at all three” (in the CD jacket of “Sunday Songs”–an excellent CD where Beirach does the “unthinkable”–he improvises over traditional classical works). For example, the great composers Bach, Mozart, Beethoven and Chopin were known for their skill in improvisation.

Turning to the second element, syncopation, we might explain this as an emphasis on the “off” or “weak” beats. That is, in 4/4 time, the strong beats are 1 and 3. Most traditional classical music and even rock music emphasizes the strong beats. However, jazz accents the weak beats (2 and 4), and this produces a completely different rhythmic feel. The combination of these two elements–improvisation and syncopation–is the heartbeat of jazz, and it is perhaps not accidental that the fusing of this spontaneous composition with accenting the “weak” beats arose primarily from a people who were themselves oppressed by those who would want to stress the static, and in H & A’s language–reduce all particularity to universality. By definition, jazz resists both.

Truth in Aquinas: More Thoughts From Chapter 1

By Cynthia R. Nielsen

January 21, 2006

The central theme of the first two chapters of Truth in Aquinas might be characterized as a desire to subvert the rigid distinctions between philosophy and theology and in particular to show that such rigid divisions do not apply to Aquinas. “Our claim in the present case is that Aquinas’ apparently clear avowal of an autonomous reason and philosophical theology cannot be rendered consistent with certain other crucial passages in his writings and therefore must be reinterpreted. In the light of other passages, we shall argue, the distinctions between faith and reason, on the one hand, and ‘philosophical’ theology (divina scientia) and sacra doctrina, on the other, can only be considered as relative contrasts within a more fundamental gnoseological situation embracing two poles, in either case” (p. 21). In short, M & P claim that there is an inextricable link between the natural and the supernatural.

In the first essay, they speak about epistemological issues, viz., Aquinas’ definition of truth. First, they point out that according to Aquinas, Truth is a transcendental—Truth is convertible with Being, and as such is part of a dynamic complex. “Truth, like Being, shatters the usual hierarchy of categorical priorities in such a way that the humblest creature equally shines with the one light of Truth as the most exalted, and is just as essentially disclosive of it” (p. 6). Next, they mention three “Augustinian determinations of Being”—Being, Life and Knowledge—which for Aquinas form a circle. “As a being, a thing remains in itself; as living, it opens itself through the operations of life towards others; and as known or knowing it returns from others to itself” (p. 7). Then the transcendental, Beauty, enters the picture. For Aquinas, Beauty is defined in terms of proportion and fittingness. So with this account, we have a notion of truth that has acquired an aesthetic (Gr. aisthetikos meaning “perception”) dimension. Access to truth is only accessible in relation to aesthetics and is thus available through the senses. “Every judgment of truth for Aquinas is an aesthetic judgment” (p. 8).

Then M & P discuss the idea of truth as adequatio between res and intellectus. The first adequatio is that the things correspond to some extent to the ideal in the divine mind because God creates them. So there is correspondence of creation with the reality of the divine mind. Secondly, there is the correspondence between the things and our mind. Employing the example of what we know in knowing the treeness of a tree, M & P write, Since the tree only transmits treeness—indeed, only exists at all—as imitating the divine, what we receive in truth is a participation in the divine. To put this another way, in knowing a tree, we are catching it on its way back to God” (p 12; emphasis mine). In other words, we understand the tree in its full existence which includes its telos. Moreover, the tree does what it is designed to do in order to participate in God on its own level of being—i.e., to live up to its own image in the divine mind. The activity is directed at a telos, and this is the Creator’s plan for the tree. Consequently, in order to properly grasp the tree, we must grasp it in its participation in God. So an autonomous understanding of the tree apart from God is not knowledge (in the fullest sense). [Again, this strikes me as having a good deal of continuity with thinkers in the Reformed tradition like Dooyeweerd and Van Til. I am sure that there are differences as well, but I wonder if this is not an area for fruitful, future study.]

All for now, hopefully I can post more on chapter two next week…With school and teaching kicking in, I’m sure that my posting frequency will soon diminish, however, I’m going to enjoy it while I can!

Musings on music and theology

By Cynthia R. Nielsen

January 13, 2006

Multiperspectivalism (not relativism)

A simple C major triad is composed of the notes C, E, and G which are the root, 3rd, and 5th of the C major scale. This chord produces a very consonant, “happy” sound. Similarly, the notes D, F#, A form a D major triad (also the root, 3rd, and 5th of the D major scale) which produces the same quality of sound as the C major triad. The “rules” of music theory and composition would suggest that a D major chord would not harmonize well with a C major chord. In fact, if the two chords are played together in the same octave, the sound produced is not pleasant at all. However, if a D major triad is played on top (i.e., voiced an octave higher) of a C major triad the sound is quite different as the D, F# and A now create an extended harmony becoming now the 9, #11 and 13 in relation to the C triad and, as a result, produce a very rich sounding harmony. I wonder whether perhaps “some” (not all—please don’t read relativism or “sappy” ecumenicalism into this) of our theological disagreements are analogous to this example. In other words, in light of who God is (infinite), a great deal of our seemingly incompatible finite perspectives actually do harmonize, but different groups/traditions are drawn to focus more on the C, E, G triad, whereas others give their attention to the D, F#,A triad.

The Flatlands of Timeless Truths

One could find the notes G, Bb, D in the second mvt of a piece and the same exact G, Bb, D (G minor chord) in the 4th mvt. and “pull these” out in order to analyze them and “logically” conclude that both are simply G minor triads. However, this completely ignores the context in which they are found (e.g., what chords precede and what chords follow? Is this a chord of the tonal center being emphasized or it is a transition or borrowed chord leading to a new tonal center? At what point in the piece does this chord occur and how does it relate to the tonal center of the previous movements? Or perhaps it should not really to be analyzed as a G minor chord at all, but rather as part of a totally different chord [e.g., C, E, G, Bb, D = C7 chord, the G, Bb, D are the 5th, b7th and 9th of a completely different chord, and more than that a chord with a completely different purpose, sound and quality. Abstracting in such a way, is to like pulling these notes off the page of the score and throwing them on a blank page and asking the orchestra to play the notes. Undoubtedly, the notes will sound like a G minor chord, but what has happened to the symphonic piece? –The piece is ruined, it is unintelligible, it has been flattened – no dynamic marking can be inserted as there is no climax, no forward movement and no sense of beginning or end whatsoever. In the same way, it seems that systematics detached from a biblical theological (redemptive historical Christian metanarrative) has similar tendencies. I am not saying, “down with systematics,” but I do think systematics divorced from BT is problematic.