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Sarah Hicks and Sam Bergman

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Maybe We Should Start Painting Our Faces?

A cool new study came out last week, in which researchers asked a wide-ranging sample of music fans to describe aspects of their personality, then used the data to correlate different types of people with the genres of music that best suit them. The study's been getting a fair amount of play in the arts press this weekend, largely because one of the more amusing findings is that classical devotees have a lot in common with heavy metal fans.

There are some hare-brained ideas about why this might be: "Out of all of the main genres of music heavy metal and classical are the ones which require the most discipline to play – they're technically very difficult and involve playing at inhumanly fast speeds," said one fan of both genres in the UK's Independent newspaper. I don't know about that - it seems to me that jazz deserves to be in that conversation as well, and I'm not sure I buy the idea that most metal bands are all that technically accomplished - but I do find plausible the assertion of the study's author that classical and metal fans share a "love of the grandiose." (Think Wagner's Ring cycle as an analogue for your average KISS show - plenty of costumes, pathos, shrieking, and over-the-top emotion in each.)

One interesting part of the survey that isn't getting reported on much is the finding that classical fans, while "creative and at ease with themselves, [are] not outgoing." I wish I could say this surprises me, but it doesn't. 80 years of being told that your favorite music is anachronistic and elitist by the supposed mainstream music press will have that effect on people.

I also wish that we could measure today's most devoted classical listeners with those from 100 years ago, before the culture of recorded sound took hold. There's a huge subset of classical listeners today who rarely if ever bother to venture out to the concert hall, because they find themselves invariably disappointed by Local Orchestra X's failure to reproduce exactly their favorite recording of Great Work Y. It's sad, because I've always felt the same way about classical music that I do about hockey - you're just not really experiencing it unless you're actually there live and in person, and the best parts of both experiences will never be fully translatable on TV, radio, or CD.

And now that I think about it, I'll bet Metallica and Black Sabbath fans feel the same way...

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6 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

"Musical tastes really do reflect our personality"

Well, there's a revelation.

After reading the n+1 st of these studies, it is clear that there is a limitless future in culture wonkery. Art and the artists who make them will continue to be squeezed out in the onslaught of the data miners and the Directors of Development who love them.

September 7, 2008 at 1:52 PM  
Blogger Sam said...

Well, that's one side of the equation, I guess. But the glass-half-full side would point out that it's studies demonstrating the tangible benefits of art and music on Demographic X (and the development and PR directors who point them out to politicians and the public,) which are the sole reason we continue to have any cultural funding at all in the US. Are some of the studies a bit silly? Sure. But I don't see how they do any actual harm to serious art and artists.

September 7, 2008 at 3:17 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

You've hit on the problem: The politicians and funders demand silly metrics, arts organizations staff up to provide them, and the whole thing becomes its own warped little ecosystem: Aforementioned arts consultants taking a smattering of Survey A, a little bit of University Study B, and Technology Trends C and D to craft the spin of the day for the groups that can afford to hire them.

On the other side, arts organizations have to deliver the numbers if they want even a pittance. I sat on a review panel one year for grants to small cultural groups in my city. It was both heartbreaking and infuriating to see the quantitative analysis they had to provide to get anywhere from $1K to $20K. I was familiar with a many of the groups applying and knew that they didn't have the time or apparatus to gather the data as a line item on their meager operating budgets. They had to add that overhead to their already strapped schedules and credit cards as free labor - time and money they could have used to work on their next creation.

I actually question whether any of this is helpful as you say. Bad numbers, bad analysis, and bad thinking are necessarily inseparable. Garbage in, garbage out.

September 7, 2008 at 3:35 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Sam, you're looking at live experiences from the glass half-full perspective. Fenway park opening up in front of you as you step out of the gate (I'm about baseball, not hockey). The shared experience of a particularly inspired performance. It's not classical music, but two of the most gripping performances I've ever attended were those of Kodo, the Japanese drumming group. I have their cds, and they're fine for certain moods - but the live show just pulled me into it until there was nothing but the rhythm. I am very hard to hypnotize (control freak, ahem), but they did it. Twice.

Having said that, though, the half-empty aspect is more common: You're paying money, sometimes a lot of money, and not just for the show, but also for parking and other associated expenses. There's weather to contend with, traffic. Then there's no guarantee that you won't be seated near someone who should have been bed-ridden, or someone who had too much to drink, or someone who finds it necessary to make running commentaries to their half-deaf companion about every little thing throughout the performance. Then there's the chance the performance itself will be on the lower end of the continuum, and perhaps what you want to hear is paired with something you have no interest in hearing.

At home, you can look outside, think - ahhh... a rainy evening... perfect for some (fill in your choice of rainy evening music here). Open the curtains, pour some sancerre, dim the lights, put your feet up, and enjoy the recording you know right down to the coughs and rustles between the movements. You may never get the same highs as you can at a live performance, but you certainly won't get the all-too-likely lows of a live performance.

Hmmm... maybe that's a topic for discussion someday - can a person who shoulda been a librarian, with her love of peace and quiet and doing things properly, find happiness at live musical events?

September 8, 2008 at 1:37 PM  
Blogger Sam said...

Your points are well-taken, Anita, and I'm not going to get off on a rant here, mainly because I'm considering using your second paragraph as the jumping off point for a series of posts I've been meaning to write for a while.

But let me just say that I think the half-empty dangers you outlined are all ones I place in the general category of "risks you take by going out in public." Yes, other people can be awful. Yes, performances can disappoint. And yes, I'm a big fan of quiet nights at home with a good book and a glass of wine.

But I've lived in towns and cities where those quiet nights were the only regularly available option, and I've lived in Minneapolis, where I can find something interesting going on in public every night of the week. And coughing concertgoers and $9 parking are just never going to be enough of a burden to make me want to go back to those places I lived before...

September 8, 2008 at 4:53 PM  
Blogger Johnnyreub said...

I'm not sure which demographic I fall into - I happen to love Rock and Classical music. (I incorporate both into my music) I know plenty of indie rockers that like Bartok, and plenty of classical musicians that like Bob Dylan... The main difference I see between these types of music is the venue -and the accepted behavior that goes along with it. If you were to shout "Whoo" and run up to the stage when Joshua Bell plays the fourth movement of the Barber violin concerto (which is kinda metal) , you might be removed by security. Similarly, if you were to fall asleep in a chair in a bar, you might be removed by the bouncer.

September 11, 2008 at 12:07 PM  

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