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Non intratur in veritatem nisi per caritatem. St. Augustine



Sep

12

2007

Possible Parallels Between (Over) Symtematizing in Theology and the Increased Sophistication in Musical Notation

By Cynthia R. Nielsen

September 12, 2007

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In writing an email to a friend, the following thought occurred to me that seems worthy of further engagement, viz., might there be a number of interesting parallels between the increasing attempt to logically arrange the major theological loci into a comprehensive systematic whole [e.g., the movement from Lombard's Sentences to St. Thomas' ST and beyond] and the increased sophistication in musical notation which had the effect of diminishing the practice of improvisation and creating an image of improvisation as intellectually substandard, as well as producing sharp dichotomies (at least in the Western way of thinking about music) between our ideas of (1) improvisation and composition, (2) the composer and the performer, and (3) the musical score and the (one correct) interpretation of that score. 

According to Jeremy Begbie in Theology, Music, and Time the majority of academic writings on music have been commentaries on written scores. Though this is understandable given the difficulty of reconstructing music that is not written out prior to the invention of recording devices, it has nonetheless produced an extremely one-sided view of the history of musical practices.[1] To cite one well-known example, many music scholars have brought to our attention that even following the development of music notation, we find composers such as J.S. Bach, Handel, and Mozart highly skilled in the art of improvisation and expecting those who performed their pieces to possess this skill as well.  Tracing some of the possible reasons why improvisation’s high reputation and regard began to wane, Begbie points to the increasing sophistication of notation, as concerts in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries gained in notoriety.  Even the improvised solos sections purposely crafted by composers to display the talent of highly gifted soloists were with time significantly diminished by written solos.[2]  Although this increase in notation severely diminished opportunities for improvising in classical music, the improvisatory elements even in meticulously notated music cannot be totally removed so long as human beings are the performers.  Avid music listeners can attest that whether speaking of an individual soloist or a orchestral unit, the personalities, stylistic particularities, and interpretative nuances manifest in the actual performance a musical work all contribute a degree of creative liberty that falls within the sphere of improvisation broadly construed.   With Begbie, I tend to agree that

All this suggests that the customary picture of improvisation as a discrete and relatively frivolous activity on the fringes of music-making might need to be replaced by one which accords it a more serious and central place.  Instead of regarding thoroughly notated and planned music as the norm and improvisation as an unfortunate epiphenomenon or even aberration, it might be wiser to recall the pervasiveness of improvisation and ask whether it might be able to reveal fundamental aspects of musical creativity easily forgotten in traditions bound predominantly to extensive notation and rehearsal.[3]



[1] Ibid., p. 181. [2] Ibid., pp. 182-83. [3] Ibid., p. 182. 


7 Responses so far

Cynthia, thanks for the past 2 posts on music. It’s a topic very near and dear to both my heart and my doctoral work (as if the two could be divided!).

Begbie’s project is indeed interesting, esp in this regard. One wonders why theology sees the hard and fast distinction between written music and improvisation in the first place. That is to say, why should theology necessarily give pride of place to notation over performance in the arts to begin with? Begbie’s charge that theology sees it as frivolous indeed seems to be true, but this in and of itself it is of course not a very good “theological” reason :) The fact that it seems to be prejudice rather than sound theological reasoning is troubling to me. It makes me also wonder at the kind of theology that has been done in connection to notated works. Looking at most theological attempts at “theology of art”, I’m rather inclined to say that aside from some unfortunately marginal works (e.g. Begbie, Wolterstorff), theology has made little progress.

One might argue that theologians haven’t been sensitive enough to work done in aesthetics proper so as to undergird their forays into aesthetics, that theologies of the arts are only barely concerned with art, and more concerned with drawing theological principles.

Sorry for the rant.
Thanks again,

Dan


Hello! I found your blog through a link on Michael Westmoreland-White’s, and it looks very interesting. Your post prompted me to think about music – from the point of view of someone who has not read Jeremy Begbie and doesn’t have a strong background in aesthetics at all – I do see a parallel between the general movements of modernism and postmodernism as perhaps playing a role, or providing explanatory power here. For example, jazz music developed as part of the general cultural breakdown of the modernist view, especially in the arts, and then therafter in many academic disciplines. Jazz puts improvisation back into the heart of music without sacrificing any sense of virtuosity or technical mastery. There is the sense that mastery of rules is the capacity to leave them behind for something the rules pointed toward but never actually achieved.

This is in contrast to the modernist desire to codify and systematize everything, to locate the “objective” musical expression which is the only ‘real’ music, or the sense in art in general that it must be representational and never abstract. For music, handing on this purified music simply involved representing it accurately and then teaching someone to reproduce it faithfully.

I think we can see this in theology at almost any point in history. On the one hand, the desire to systematize, to account for everything, to codify the “orthodox” position – as if this is somehow the fulfillment of what we’re about as Christians. In contrast, there is the experience that God is entirely beyond systematization – that in a sense, mastery of the ‘rules’ means leaving them behind. You can reference Jesus’ healing on the sabbath in Luke, or in many other instances, where Jesus is fulfilling what the rules intended even as he breaks them on a specific level.

I think that music is an excellent metaphor for theology, actually. Without some systematization, some “notation” as it were, we can’t talk to each other at all. The notation lets us communicate and make sense of our experiences, lets us communicate with the past in a way as well. But if the “notation” is all there is to the music, what we have are reiterations, and not a living faith at all. Mastery of the rules is being able to leave them behind. The notation is a place-holder for the truth, and not the truth in and of itself.

Wow. That was a lot longer than I intended.


Hi Doug,

So glad that you dropped by! Your comment is very insightful and find myself more or less in agreement with what you say. I would want to add as a qualifier of sorts that when it comes to theology, I am not completely against a certain amount of systemazing, which to me seems inescapable, and which can, if done in the right spirit, be helpful for the Church.

Best wishes,
Cynthia


Hmmm. I wonder if the increasing notation was to cut down on improvisation or to chase the ever-elusive goal of liturgical standardization.


Hi Derek,

I don’t see why improvisation and the standardization of music have to be mutually exclusive. E.g., there are a number of jazz standards that are part of common repitoire among jazz musicians internationally. These pieces use minimal notation–only the melody is written out in standard musical notation–everything else is improvised, from the bass line to the way that the piano or guitarist decides to voice the chords (as the chords are only written out using symbols such as C min 7 or D7b5 etc. When I visited a jazz club in Prague, though I was not able to speak Czech with the musicians, I at once recognized tunes like “All the Things You Are,” “Blue Monk,” etc. So it seems to me that minimal notation can be used to pass on tradition just as effectively (and perhaps more effectively) than attempting to write out every note, solo etc.–even then, a piece of music is never played exactly the same way as something of the musician’s own style comes through simply by the way that s/he phrases lines, builds crescendos etc.

Best wishes,
Cynthia


[...] Cynthia Nielsen explores the over Symtematizing in theology in relation to the increased sophistication in musical notation [...]


Cynthia, this is amazing. I do see the parallel. Perhaps I can ask you some things the next time we are at leisure? BTW, there will be a GSA ice cream social on August 31, which would be a possible time. Salut!



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