Thoughts On Listening

 

Twenty-two Commentaries by William Osborne On Music, 

Listening and Aesthetic Discernment

 

These writings were written as emails in 1998 and 1999 for the Deep Listening Discussion List.  Generally speaking, they are best read in chronological order, but one can also use the hyperlinks below to skip around.   For a printable 41 page PDF file of all 22 commentaries, click here.

 

Deep Listening, Style and Discernment

Criticism and Discernment

More On Discernment

Discernment and Idealism

Criticism and the Evolution of Consciousness

Form, Time and Indeterminancy

Discernment and the Creator/Audience Relationship

Discernment and the Witness/Universe

Zeno and Morpheus

Apples of the Mind

Definition of Fathom

Discernment, Atavistic Creation and the Sacred Marriage

Sounding the Abyss of Individuality

Brahmavihara and Deep Listening

Kinesthetics and "Meta-kinesthetics"

Maskman’s Follies

Global/Focal Listening

Critical Discourse

Healing the World

Grand Canyon

Mozart

Heightened Sensation

Luminous Sounds

 

 

DEEP LISTENING, STYLE, AND DISCERNMENT

 

Andrea raised the subject of self-criticism.   I think that if it is used in the -right- way, it is a part of any healthy life. 

 

Concerning Deep Listening, the most important issue is that criticism can take the form of discernment.  Through critical discernment we formulate our expression.   To discern means to come to know or recognize something that is hidden or obscure.  Discernment is notable because it often involves detecting or discovering things with senses other than vision--such as hearing.  Through discernment we make out what is at first difficult to perceive.  This discernment can also involve a great deal of reflection.  The importance of these functions of discernment for artists is probably self-evident.

 

The degree and rigor of -critical- discernment can play highly variable roles in various musical styles and genres.  I will mention a couple examples.  Generally speaking, a classical trumpeter will be far more critically discerning about consistently "attacking" his or her notes than a jazz trumpeter, who might have a far greater appreciation of spontaneous variations of articulation.  Aleatoric music reduces many aspects of discernment to a minimum, they are left to chance, while a classical violin sonata places great critical discernment on reproducing a highly defined style.  

 

These rather obvious thoughts lead to an important question concerning Deep Listening.  Is Deep Listening a style, or is it a discipline of musicianship?  Can a composer writing in a highly belabored post-Webern tradition use Deep Listening as much as a person writing a spontaneous sonic meditation?  I think so.  I do not think Deep Listening has to be limited by style, and that it can thus encompass highly varying roles of critical discernment.  (As such, Deep Listening could be a part of every music student's curriculum, just as is harmony or "ear training".) 

 

There are indeed certain stylistic tendencies apparent in the Deep Listening community as it stands now.   This is a natural manifestation of the discipline's origins, but I think it will continue to encompass larger and larger spectrums of the musical community.   Due to my style, critical discernment is very important in performance, sound systems, composition, text, lighting, and even in the use of the performance spaces.  I feel that this discernment, which can involve criticizing myself and others, is based on Deep Listening.   I have learned that self-criticism can bring a great deal of discernment about who we are and our relationship to society and culture.  Practiced in the proper way, self-criticism can be a highly meaningful form of Deep Listening--perhaps even the deepest listening of all.

 

Or is all of this incorrect?  The discipline of Deep Listening is strongly based on concepts of inclusiveness and non-judgmental perception.  Is my understanding of Deep Listening thus flawed?  Does listening without preconceptions necessarily reduce the role of critical discernment?  Would this have an effect on the styles and genres of music to which Deep Listening could be applied?

 

Sorry if this is a bit turgid.  I would wager that the mercurial tones of James could say it better.

 

William Osborne
100260.243@compuserve.com
 

 

   

CRITICISM AND DISCERNMENT

 

I will just add a few more thoughts off the top of my head.

 

This concept of discernment is a useful approach for unraveling some problems.  It could help us better define perceptions of art in and between cultures where there is no longer a systematic common practice.   Instead of rejecting each other's styles and cultures, we could understand that we are practicing different modes and functions of discernment.  Both theory and criticism are attempts to define what is being discerned in a work or style of art.  Theory is in effect an attempt to define modes of discernment.  Elaboration on concepts of discernment could be relevant to both aesthetic and ethnological theory.

 

One aspect of this is the question of time and discernment.  Is there more discernment in a meticulously composed work than in an improvised work, or do they use different modes of discernment?  How are those modes defined?  Some cultures seem to define hierarchies of presumed artistic value based on notions involving the presumed "amount" of discernment that is used to create a work of art.  This creates aesthetic hierarchies that give improvisation a low status in western culture.  

 

Or is discernment judged according to its quality or rarity?  How much discernment could Ella Fitzgerald put into a four minute blues song?  Could that song have a lot more discernment that another musician's belabored composition, because her discernment is of such exquisite value?  What creates her special discernment?  Why does Asian art so often define spontaneity as much more valuable in artistic expression than does western art?  (Zen painting for example.)   Here in our own culture, why is Fitzgerald's discernment not called high art while Beethoven's discernment is?  In one culture "spontaneous" discernment is the language of the patricians, in the other it is the language of the lower classes.  Class, critical discernment, and aesthetic theory...

 

These questions of time and discernment might tell us something about how the brain works.  How much can the human mind perceive and discern at the same time?  (There are probably some interesting studies on that.)   When does discernment stop being a mode of perception and become judgement?  Discernment is a special mode of perception that involves making something out, in gradually perceiving the unknown?  How does discernment evolve to aesthetics?

 

How has our evolution affected our discernment?  What is the role of discernment when I perceive a python wrapping around my leg, and how is that different from my discernment of voice inflection in Chinese Opera?  Examining criticism as discernment might help us define the questions that always come up about culture and nature.  Nature makes us discern, but we make our nature discern.  What can we say about this complex interplay?

 

Then we could delve into the questions of discernment and the artist's relationship to society and cultural expression.  I make "art" all the time, and I wonder why I am discerning what I am discerning--especially because I want others to discern it and feel enrichened.   The artist says, "Please discern what I discern, please feel what I feel."   The artist's creation sharpens her senses and abilities, and allows her to discern even more.  Discernment and creation create a cycle of evolution that develops into style.

 

And then there is the question of critical discernment and pedagogy.  Do we not need to add new disciplines of listening in a music world that has developed entirely new concepts requiring new discernment of timbre, pitch, time, form and dynamics--to say nothing of musical meaning?

 

One could go on and on.  As I say, these are just some random thoughts.

 

William Osborne
100260.243@compuserve.com
 

 

 

MORE ON DISCERNMENT

 

Discernment is a special form of perception that can bundle together the various senses.   To discern is to make out the unknown.  We can sense something, but we don't know what or how.  What we cannot see we hope to hear, what we cannot hear we hope to smell, what we cannot smell we hope to touch.  Discernment leads us to integrated forms of sensory intuition that are undefined.  Discernment seems to raise sensory perception to a higher level of integration with the mind as a whole.  Discernment is intimately related to the mental analysis of perception, which continually reshapes that perception.  This cycle seems closely related the cycles humans use in communication, and might explain why discernment seems key to understanding aesthetic perception. 

An aesthetic is not perceived, it is discerned.  This seems a key to certain aspects of semiotics.

 

Another thought.  Does style (perhaps in the form of aestheticism) incapacitate discernment?  When Samuel Beckett was asked why he wrote in French, he said, "So I can write without style."  It seems that without style, he could better discern.

 

Perfect pitch is an interesting aspect of discernment to consider in discussions of nature vs. culture.

 

William Osborne
100260.243@compuserve.com
 

 

   

DISCERNMENT AND IDEALISM

 

Perception and judgement are so deeply interconnected in the human mind, that we have no ""scientific" proof that they can be separated.  The forms of "enlightenment" that move us beyond "judgment" cannot  be revealed through language, since language itself is a morass of implicit values.   Enlightenment, for lack of a better word, is beyond words, methodologies, rationality, etc.  In regard to Norman's  thoughts, it is beyond the status quo, and it is beyond -rejecting- the status quo, since both are implicit judgments.  This affects every discipline.   Without discernment, even our beloved Deep Listening could eventually become an ideologically laden status quo for a given set of devotees.  

 

These thoughts illustrate that there are certain dangers for the pilgrim searching for "enlightenment", "mindfulness", or other concepts involving the presumed suspension of judgement, because the perception of a presumed absolute reality might just be another form of absolute idealism.  Certainly we see this in practice.  Almost all of the "gods-come-down-to-earth-just-coincidentally-in-human-male-form", who have told us they are enlightened and see the world without judgement, have been the centers of religions with absolutist beliefs that have filled history with horror and brutality. 

 

I would submit that before the pilgrim leaps into the abyss of enlightenment, one of the last things he or she should release is discernment.  Discernment is by nature mindful, because it is an attempt to make out something unknown.  It is an on going search for form.   It is difficult for discernment to be judgmental, because there is not yet a known object to be judged.  

 

In other words, there is a danger that the -values- placed on viewing the world without judgment or preconceptions are themselves a judgement and  an ideology.  Can one become attached to being "detached"?  Perhaps that is why Buddha spoke of the Middle Way, which uses moderation as a means of avoiding certain pitfalls of duality.  The Middle Way, at least in my mind, seems to have something to do with discerning, which is not so much a judgement as it is a process of becoming aware.  Perhaps that is why discerning seems to be a part of Deep Listening.  It is a process of becoming aware.

 

I remember reading once that the Buddha was enlightened after speaking to a musician who had come floating down the river on a raft.  The musician looked at the extreme asceticism Buddha was living in and said, "If you pluck the string too hard, it doesn't resonate."  This led to Buddha's discovery of the Middle Way.  He began plucking his strings with more discernment.

 

The discernment of the Middle Way gave Buddhism -forms- that made it more compassionate, and allowed more people to "resonate" with its path.  This has a relationship to artistic expression.  For -my- path as an artist (others will have different ones), the critical discernment of good form is an attempt to be compassionate, like lending the listener a helping hand that allows him or her to "resonate" with me.  As a general principle of life, form and compassion seem to be closely related.  Through critically discerning good forms in our creations, whether it be a house, a pair of shoes, good manners, or a composition, we compassionately meet the needs of human materiality.   In a temporal world it is impossible for these forms to remain fixed.  They must always be discerned anew from the unknown, and that discernment is an act of compassion. 

 

William Osborne
100260.243@compuserve.com
 

 

 

CRITICISM AND THE EVOLUTION OF CONSCIOUSNESS

 

Before I begin, I should mention that this will be my last post for while, since tomorrow Abbie and I leave for Paris. ( It will be several days before I am able to even obtain my email.)   In the thoughts below I bring together the concept of "critical discernment" with the original thread concerning the relationship between the meditative and active life.  The latter problem has long occupied western culture, and there is a body of literature surrounding it.   A modern treatment of this theme which has affected me greatly is Herman Hesse's last novel _Das Glassperrenspiel_ (_The Glass Bead Game_), which won the Nobel Prize.   Its principal character, Joseph Knecht, is a composer  who lives in the 25th century.  All intellectual and artistic activity has been relegated to a series of monasteries known as Castalia, an autonomous elite institution devoted wholly to the mind and imagination.  The novel traces the developments that lead Knecht to renounce this monastic life and enter the world.  It explores the conflict between, and the need to synthesize, thought and action, intellect and flesh.   Even though I read it 22 years ago, it still affects me greatly.  I would also direct you to an introductry essay to the novel written by Theodore Ziolkowski. 

 

--------------------------- 

 

Norman's and Andrea's post express  concern about the role "critical discernment" might play in Deep Listening, since it is difficult to reconcile  non-judgmental perception with the  forms of selection that seem to be a necessary a part of the creative process.  Since a work of art is a finite object or process in a world of infinite potentiality, a reductive process based on a conscious selection of materials and forms is inevitable.   (Even aleatoric works involve at least a minimum of structural organization in which these processes are applied.)   This selection is based on a process of critical discernment, usually derived from a constellation of aesthetic concepts and practical necessities.  How can one reconcile this divisive critical discernment with the inclusive world of non-judgmental perception?  (With subtle irony Norman describes his "gut feeling", which discerns that something is problematic with discerning.)

 

I think this problem is better understood if we realize that human consciousness evolves through at least three stages of development in which criticism has a very different position and function.  As children, we are born into a state of unity with all being. It is only when we are taught about good and evil that we evolve to a second level of individuation characterized by dualistic perception with its implicit despair and alienation.  We are made aware of laws, both natural and moral, but feel incapable of adhering to the seemingly arbitrary standards of our human condition.    A few individuals reach a third stage, where they are once again capable of accepting all of being.  Most of humanity, however, must remain in the second stage, sustained only by occasional acts of creativity, which from time to time, allow them to share in the unified realm of the third stage.

 

For humans in the second stage, a life without critical discernment is only an ideal toward which they can strive.  Without involving themselves in acts of critical discernment, they could not even survive.  Out of a compassion for the conditioned nature of their human existence, they must continually create forms which will insure their own survival, and that of their fellow humans.   Evolution toward the third stage involves acts of critical discernment which in the end presumably become so subtle and refined that they are no longer definable within the second realm's dualistic mode of consciousness.     

 

In the second stage, we must submit to the necessity of critical discernment, and accept it as a method we continue to refine until it leads us to the verge of a unified realm of being.  This in essence, is the creative process.  As an individual moves toward the third stage, critical discernment appears to become less and less burdened with finite values.  It would  appear that critical discernment moves toward a state of non-judgmental *selective* discernment, which finally evolves to a unified form of consciousness transcending dichotomies.

 

In the second stage, we must realize that this non-judgmental perception is not a fixed state, but rather a -process- of consciousness we move in and around.

 

As individuals in the second state of consciousness, we must honestly evaluate the necessity we have for critical discernment. This allows us to establish a responsible and authentic relationship with the world--to say nothing of avoiding psuedo-enlightened hypocrisy.  Far from being non-judgmental perception, anything else would be an excess of aestheticism cultivated in isolation from reality.  By necessity we must confront the sheer reality of contemporary events, and realize what horror they would bring if we, and our leaders, were not critically discerning.  It again becomes apparent, that through critical discernment we give form to compassion.  This relationship between form and compassion is the essence of both humanism and artistic creation. 

 

By accepting the materiality of this second stage of consciousness we do not repudiate spiritual ideals, but rather compassionately accept our social responsibilities as individuals.  By fundamental necessity, we put our spiritual ideals back into the service of life, through a discerning commitment to our fellow human beings.  In the second stage of consciousness this is the only true culture.  It rises above self-indulgent solipsism and an overly subjective introversion.  Through holding to these spiritual ideals, we gain a form of critical discernment that is an essential condition for translating thought to responsible action. 

 

As this discernment moves toward the non-judgmental, the artist gains a particular from of dispassionate objectivity, a kind of irony towards life, that renders a unique kind of freedom and detachment which gives works of art their most profound meaning.

 

William Osborne
100260.243@compuserve.com
 

 

 

FORM, TIME, AND INDETERMINANCY

 

Pauline's post contains some fascinating comments about form and improvisation.  They send about a billion questions through my mind.  For now I would just like to make some general comments.

 

Life is inextricably bound to form.  Through form we take our being.   I have form, therefore I am. The form of materiality is, so to speak, our Karma.  Similarly, it is impossible for music to not have form, since even creating a sound is giving form to something.

 

Since form exists in Time, life is inextricably bound to indeterminacy.  Life is an endless flow of endless variations of form arising from and vanishing into the unknown and the unknowable.  What we refer to as predictable and unpredictable are indicative only of the narrow limitations and perspectives of our consciousness.  Those who have developed sufficient discernment, hear that a Mozart violin sonata is subject to billions of spontaneous variations that -cannot- be controlled. 

 

Concepts of predictability and regularity are created only by establishing frames of reference in which they can be defined relative to the rest of life.  A Mozart violin Sonata is regular in it movement in comparison the exquisite song of the birds outside, but if the sonata's divisions of time were subject to the minute billionth of a second variations of time used by nuclear scientists studying subatomic particles, the sonata's variations of time would be so wild and random as to be undefinable.  In fact, the sonata's divisions of time can only be defined in terms of statistical probabilities.  Turn on a computer sequencer with a high beat subdivision for the numbers in an event table,  and then try to play five notes that produce the same number.  Music is inalienably indeterminate.  When we refer to something as being more improvisatory as something else, we are speaking only in the relative terms of our human and personal perspectives.  Perhaps that is why Varese once said, "Chance is indicative only of our lack of understanding."  And perhaps it is why Cage said, "Form is our only constant connection with the past."

 

These thoughts might help us understand the relationships between what we call "form" and and what we call "improvisation".  We are defining a relative perspective.  Could someone please offer some thoughts about how this relates to Deep Listening?  What, for example, is "working by ear" and how can it be extracted from form when even to create a sound is to create form--to say nothing of many other aspects of form that inalienably arise when we improvise?  I could go into this in much more detail, but maybe someone else has some perspectives...  They would probably be of much more value than mine.

 

Bill  O.  (Who is dead sick of form, because he is notating two one hour long scores with Finale, when he would much rather be out in the cafes of Paris doing "field studies" on why undiscernment makes the French so damned artistic.)

 

William Osborne
100260.243@compuserve.com
 

 

 

DISCERNMENT AND THE CREATOR/AUDIENCE RELATIONSHIP

 

Jann Palser sent me the following question, and I thought I might share my rather windy answer with the list, though it will probably bore everyone.  The thoughts bear a certain relationship to Pauline's about improvisation, time, and form.  I think the thoughts here about "community" are particularly relevant to Deep Listening.

 

>We wondered how you think about the differences between discernment in the listener/ audience and discernment in the

creator/performer.  Are these necessarily related at any one moment, or ideally related?<

 

Should  what the artist discerns and what the audience discerns be related?  I'll offer a few random thoughts.  The extent of the relationship must surely depend on the artist and her intentions.  In any case, the relationship is very conditioned and temporal and that might be a beginning point for discussion. 

 

On the most essential level of a theory defining this relationship between the artist's and audience's discernment, I could formulate some ideas based on my work as a composer/performer.   Off hand, I would note that there are three aspects of artistic experience which would define theories of discernment:

 

the creator/performer

the listener/audience

the context/environment

 

The first two you mention, but of course, the third is also essential to understanding the nature of artistic experience.  Much theoretical analysis has been put into "objectified" works of art.  Now we are becoming more concerned with the physiological and psychological -processes- of reception, and how they are changed by the infinite permutations of our human existence.  Audiences are not simply involved in the -passive- aspect of hearing, but also in the -active- concept of listening.  Artistic reception (Listening) is influenced not only by the creator/performer, but also by an ever changing constellation of factors that shape our environment physically, psychologically, and culturally.

 

This suggests that it is impossible to develop a theory of discernment by simply observing the creation and reception of art, because all three parameters I list above are in a constant state of fluctuation and redefine -every- single creator/audience relationship.  Stated plainly,  there is no "controlled environment" for observation of the creation and reception of "art" or cultural experience.  Neither art nor humans can be objectified in this manner, though western culture seems to think they can.  Those not deeply involved in music-making often do not realize, (or forget) that even if a work and its performance were remarkably consistent, the context of each performance can, and often does, vary radically.   As a result, every new performance must be discerned anew by both the creator/performer and the listener/audience, based on a multitude of factors in a state of constant transition and change.   This also continually redefines the relationship between the artist and audience.

 

As a result, refined critical discernment leads to the understanding that all art is temporal, and that it is in its essence aleatoric and improvisatory to a far greater degree than we imagine.  Even a Mozart violin sonata can be performed with millions of spontaneously determined variations, however narrow the range of this discernment might appear to be.   Ultimately,  I think this will require new theories for critically defining the creator/audience relationship, that can better define this process of fluctuation and temporality.  Criticism must move from the objectification of art to an understanding of art as a process.   Theory must leave behind concepts of artistic experience as a given set of aesthetic principles, concepts, rules, perceptions, or critical evaluations and move toward definitions of artistic experience as an experience constantly transforming in time. 

 

This seems to define a particular weakness of cultural anthropology, and even of musicology.  These scholars must remember that due to its temporality, culture is by nature undefinable.  The instant a cultural event is defined, it has already transformed.  Culture cannot be frozen in time; it cannot be objectified.  For example, regardless of how traditional and consistent Hopi dance might appear to be, it is a living phenomenon in constant transformation, because the Pueblos are constantly changing, as is their cultural identity and expression.  The best we can hope for is to view our frozen images of culture with an understanding of this process of transformation.  The very same applies to our own western art music, regardless of how traditional it might seem.  It is this inability to objectify cultural experience that defines the relationship between the creator and her public.  An understanding of the transitory nature of artistic expression and reception is also a key element of Deep Listening.

 

The discerning critic knows that art cannot be objectified, and I have learned this by practical necessity.  The work Abbie and I do, for example, is highly feminist, and deals mostly with themes involving the necessity of women to formulate their own cultural identity through creative expression.  We once performed one of these works for several hundred Lutherans at a Church Convention in Leipzig, and it fell pretty flat.  Two weeks later we performed the same work for a convention of 300 women brass players in St. Louis, where it was like throwing a match into a barrel of gasoline.  The factors affecting these variances of reception are pretty obvious.  But what is less obvious is that one of those Lutherans attended the St. Louis performance, and had a radically different perception and discernment of the work.  I can't define this change.  What happens?  The listener seems to be affected somehow by the collective experience.   Their discernment is radically altered by an environment that can even transcend their cultural conditioning.  

 

(Perhaps that is why thousands of ''whitemen" go to see Hopis dance, or Japanese create Kabuki Theater.  The "whites" do not discern what the Hopi or Japanese do, but something valuable is still discerned.  How is that cross-cultural discernment created and defined?  The Hopi's rituals are secret and they would not even want the "whites" to discern the same things that their tribesmen do.)

 

I should also note that the parameters of discernment are not only ideological or cultural.  Mundane environmental factors can also shape reception radically, separating the discernment of the artist and audience.  A feminist woman once saw a performance of one of our works that was not well received.  The audience couldn't concentrate because it was after a stressful protest event in which they had stood for an hour in the bitter cold, and had been harassed by the police.  A few months later she saw the same work ecstatically received in St. Louis by the 300 women brass players.  She commented that my "revision" of the work was excellent, that I had "reduced it to its essence".   She is a highly trained musician, and is accustomed to listening very closely and with a great deal of discernment.  Actually, I hadn't changed a note, and the performance could not have been too different since the accompaniment is on tape.  The listener's discernment had been altered by environmental factors, not the work.  The variances of critical discernment  between the artist and public involve very complex aspects of phenomenology. 

 

These simple examples illustrate that the constellation of factors that alter discernment in both the creation and reception of artistic experience are highly varied and complex, and almost impossible to define.  But when artists perform (or critics discern) the definition and control of these factors of discernment is exactly what they -must- attempt to formulate.  Abbie and I, for example, begin by examining the performance space with critical discernment, evaluating sight lines, acoustics, and lighting.  The characters we create can be very altered by the public seating.  If the seating is raked and the public looks down on her, a character can be very different than if the stage is raised and they are looking up at her.   Simply stated, the character's iconic meaning is radically changed between "looking up" at her and "looking down" at her, even though the "performance" of the work is the same.   Will the hall be dead acoustically and leave Abbie's voice sounding naked?  Will the hall have an intimate feeling, or a sense of boundless spaciousness?  Will the audience be sympathetic to women's themes or must Abbie try to bring them in?  How loud must she speak to be heard?   (That can greatly affect how we have to shape the character.)  Will the lighting angles leave shadows under her brows if she lowers her head?  How dark are the blackouts and how quiet is the hall?  Will the acoustics and seating support the quadraphonic distribution of the sound system?  Again, critical discernment is shaped by environmental factors that can deeply affect how art is discerned and created.  Those factors can also drive a wedge between the discernment of the performer and the discernment of the public.

 

These endless permutations explain why no two performances are discerned alike.  One could say, "Art is not what you want, art is what you get."   Perhaps this requires that we define the creator/performer and listener/public relationship as a process.  An artist discerns each performance anew from the unknown, as does her public.  I think this understanding is essential for formulating theories that define the roles and functions of discernment between the artist and the public.  Critical discernment must begin from the standpoint of the temporality of both creation and reception.

 

The value of the artist/audience relationship can also be defined by the degree to which the artist challenges the discernment of her audience, and to the degree by which the creation's temporality approaches the listener from the unknown.   Musicals provide an interesting example, because the creators, performers and audience are relatively definable and predictable.  Publics attend musicals to hear a very specific type of presentation, and this gives such publics a very definable character.  The performers fulfill very defined functions reinforced by the mechanical repetition of hundreds of performances.  And the musical and theatrical elements are generally formulaic and simplistic.  Everything is pretty predictable and no one's discernment is challenged.  Perhaps that is why most musicals are not considered a very high form of art. 

 

Opera, on the other hand, creates greater challenges for discernment.  The artists and audiences are more widely varied.  There are the rich who attend to see and be seen.  Then there is the curmudgeon factor, those curious people who attend and decide that, "Yes, this really is ridiculous!"  And then there are the students in the peanut gallery who probably discern the most, but who can't pay for the seats that would allow them to experience opera in its fullest glory, and its multiplicity of meanings.  The challenges opera provides our discernment help to define it as high art.  [One could go into great detail about what is discerned and by whom in any given genre or in comparisons between genres, and by various publics] .   But there are points where discernment can be lost if the music is so complex or otherwise unapproachable that most audiences can't begin to comprehend it.  Artists vary to the degree they feel responsible for this problem.  

 

Through the critical discernment of these factors arising in time from the unknown, both before and during the performance, I attempt to create an empathetic reaction in my public that will hopefully bring people together through a unified experience of certain aspects of our human condition.  My personal predilection as an artist is to relate the discernment of the creator and audience to the greatest possible degree--though other approaches are possible.   This is why I speak of form as an act of compassion (if you saw my other posts), even though it contains elements of seduction too.  Could one say that the artist seduces the public into a discerning  awareness of their world and each other?  How far can this seduction go, and how pure can its motives remain?  Stated very generally, through form the artist adapts to specific aspects of human materiality with the goal of creating a mutual but fleeting experience of certain aspects of our human identity.  Perhaps music is a magical and momentary instant of genuine empathy that gives us hope for an authentic community.  (I think this is also the foundation for understanding semeiotics.)

 

I have experienced this community on several occasions, and I wonder if it has more to do with the listener/audience than with the artist.   This "magical" alignment of discernment is based as much on the creative power of the listener/audience as of the creator/performer. No party is passive in artistic experience, hence the power of Deep Listening.   At least in some cases, there is a process of discernment that leads this striving for empathy and collective catharsis beyond an ideal to an actual, even if fleeting, moment of reality.  To define how one creates these fleeting moments of empathy arising in time from the unknown that bring us to a common experience of our human condition and a genuine sense of community is one goal of a theory of critical discernment.  It would help us define the meaning of culture.

 

But in closing, there is another side to all of this.  Meaningful artistic and cultural experience can also be achieved when empathy is consciously rejected.  Antipathy is also a part of cultural experience.   We can also define artistic and cultural experience by what we -choose- not to accept.  (I would think here, for example, of the National Socialist elements in some of Orff's music or the racist motifs in Wagner.)  Stated metaphorically, one can love even if one chooses not to accept all the seductions of one's lover.  But who is the lover, Music or the imperfect composer?  As for me, I can't discern the beauty of a language, without also discerning the hand that writes it.  I guess I am just getting to the real question about the relationship between the creator and her public and the roles of discernment, but I have to go for now.  The conditioned and temporal discernment that shapes creation and reception is just the beginning point for such a study.

 

William Osborne
100260.243@compuserve.com
 

 

 

DISCERNMENT AND THE WITNESS/UNIVERSE

 

Kim wrote privately and said she felt discernment involves aspects of "evaluation" used during the creative process.  And Pauline added the "witness/universe" relationship to the parameters of artistic experience that Jann and I discussed in a recent post.    Both Cliff and Pauline then discuss the unfathomable nature of certain creative processes in improvisation. 

 

The evaluations that are a part of discernment are very complex and help us define the witness/universe relationship.  They also help us regard the unfathomable nature of artistic experience and the inalienably aleatoric nature of human existence.

 

Discernment is a continuous evaluation of the perceived, perceiver AND the  -processes of perception-.  This suggests that discernment brings elements of self-awareness and phenomenological analysis into the creative process. As Pauline said, "The witness observes from outside of the process and yet is inside of it too."  When trying to make something out that is at first difficult to perceive, discernment continually evaluates and reshapes the processes of perception.  These "evaluations" help formulate the "witness/universe" relationship, and shape our identities as artists.  I will list six ways this can happen: 

 

1.  Discernment can involve a complex synthesis of  modes of perception.  Discernment can quickly shift from sensory organ to sensory organ as we try to make something out.  If I can't discern the species of a bird in a tree from its appearance, perhaps I can tell by listening to its song.  Through the processes of discernment, the two senses begin to function in a close interplay.  This self-monitored characteristic of discernment deeply affects the witness/universe relationship, thus formulating both perception and creative processes.

 

2. The process of discernment can  create "new" senses by constellating of modes of perception.  Our sense of acoustic space is an example.  It is a combination of seeing, hearing, our sense of time in the perception of sound reflection, and the sense of air waves against our body.  Discernment creates a new sense beyond the "normal" five.  This new sense of acoustic space is fundamental to certain aspects of musical creativity.  (For some creatures, such as dolphins or bats, acoustic space is their principle method for regarding existence.  Their sense organs and brains have developed in ways that make this process highly effective.  Since our sense organs are less evolved in this regard, we humans must discern acoustic space, i.e. we gradually make it out by combining senses.   In general, one could theorize that discernment is necessary, because we have limited sense perception in a universe of infinite potentialities.  Discernment helps relieve the dichotomies between the witness/universe relationship.)

 

3. Discernment can involve the comparison of sensory perception with analytical memory.  Perhaps I can discern the species of a bird I can't clearly see by analyzing its patterns of flight.   The cellist compares the sounds she creates to determine their relationship to idealized aesthetic value that are part of her memory.  Through discernment, perception and memory form complex evaluations during the creative process.  Through analysis of accumulated experience, the witness discerns her universe.  (Witness/Universe = Artist/One-Song.)

 

4.  Discernment can also evaluate the physical quality of sensory data.  I might discern that I did not see the bird well enough to make a judgment as to its species if I was blinded by the sun during the path of its flight.   At the Met, I might decide I am sitting too far away from the stage to really appreciate an opera for what it is.  Discernment does not only evaluate the object, it evaluates the quality of perceived data. Through discernment, we evaluate our sensory capacities as witnesses of the universe.

 

5.  Discernment also evaluates the perceiver's objectivity.   If I want to show my friends that I can find a  rufus-sided tohee in the forest, I might worry that my aspirations could cause me to mistake a robin for one.   Is my lack of appreciation for  Wagner's _Ring_ justified by its anti-Semitic iconography?  Through discernment we note that the witness is finite in an infinite universe.

 

6. Discernment allows us to sense the "unfathomable".  Since this sixth aspect of discernment is perhaps the most interesting and complex, I will discuss it in more detail.   We cannot directly observe the unfathomable scientifically, but it would appear that through undefined senses of discernment we can hold the Unfathomable in regard.  This seems related to  Pauline's ideas about "playing by ear" and the undefinability of music.  She suggests, rightly I think, that "playing by ear" allows for the creation of music with a complexity and subtlety far beyond what notated music could ever achieve.  The discernment of the unfathomable also seems related to the undefinable automatic responses Cliff mentions that are part of evolved improvisatory processes. 

 

I just watched a video of the Miles Davis and John Coltrane quintet from 1959--certainly one of the high points of jazz history.   Since their music is  created "by ear", it freely creates nuances of rhythm, timbre, pitch, and inflection which cannot be captured by any known system of notation.  Even though we can discern the profundity of this music, its exquisite discernment remains unfathomable by its nature.  The music maintains an extraordinary clarity, logic, precision and originality to the discerning ear, even though it is for the most part beyond analysis or definition. 

 

The Mind's mysterious capacity to discern allows humans to create and regard the unfathomable, and this is essential to the profundity of creative experience.  Our capacity to discern the unfathomable brings into being many aspects of human consciousness that would otherwise not exist, such as both artistic and religious experience, as well as the capacity to experience the irrational aspects of our human psyche, such as dreams and emotions.  Through discernment, the witness/artist is able to feel and channel the unfathomability of life. 

 

Sometimes the characteristics of unfathomablity appear in notated music as well.  I think of Mozart.  There could hardly be a more logical, structured, or ordered music, but its style is transcended by unfathomable characteristics for which terms do not even exist.  For the sake of discussion, let's refer to one of those characteristics as "celestial irony".  Why is it that we can discern this "celestial irony" in Mozart's music, even though we cannot really observe it, much less define it's nature?  Why has the human mind developed this capacity for discerning the unfathomable?  Is this mere subjectivity, or a sensation of something that really exists beyond the five "normal" senses?  Could artistic experience even exist without this capacity to discern the unfathomable?

 

How is this regard of (and for) the unfathomable nurtured by the processes of Deep Listening?  How does discernment allow us to tap the power of the unfathomable during the creative process?  What is the relationship between the creative process, the unfathomable, and a unified realm of being?  And to state a complicated metaphor, can we say that the "witness-as-artist", shapes, and is shaped by, the universe as her oneness-song?

 

We live in two worlds divided by our skin, the inner world and the outer world.  Their interplay makes the processes of evaluation and the witness/universe relationship during creation and perception infinitely complex.  The closest "sense of reality" we can hope for comes from discerning how the witness and the universe shape each other.  Metaphorically, my human identity is a child of The Artist and the One-Song.   Is that part of Deep Listening?  Perhaps part of the process of Deep Listening is gaining a fuller regard for the unfathomability of life.  Living in this unfathomable existence, all we can do is "play it by ear".  

 

William Osborne
100260.243@compuserve.com
 

 

 ZENO AND MORPHEUS

 

Pauline's suggestion that we refer to the transformation of Form and Being as "morphing" is well taken:

 

"I form therefore I morf!

My being morfs as I form."

 

Her thought is something  to ponder.

 

Here is a rather opaque response for those who wish to unravel it.  Xeno would say, "I morph, therefore I am a paradox".  (He is the old Greek who noted that an arrow moving toward a target must continuously traverse half of the remaining distance, and can thus never arrive, since the remaining distance can always be divided into yet another half.)  Morphing is equally mysterious.  It is digital and made of discrete units called morphs, between which there is nothing at all.  There is no transformation between morphs.  Time, if modern physics is to be understood, is similar.  It is a series of infinitessimal units separated by something we cannot define.  This solves Xeno's problem of the the last-half-distance.  There is nothing at all between the last-half-distance, neither space nor time.   But this "nothing-at-all" is even more mysterious than the "never-ending-last-half". 

 

I think of this paradox in regard to Pauline's extraordinary aesthetic concept of "the least differences" in music.  She writes:

 

"For me the essence of musicianship is the cultivated ability to discern

through listening the least differences in pitch, tempo, or timbre and to

apply that discernment in phrasing and the overview of a whole process.

What is the least difference between phrases or the smallest units of a

phrase. What is the least difference between sections? How are those least

differences effected by our listening? We know that what is observed is

changed by the observation (Heisenberg's principle). Thus listening is

action. What is the least difference between one piece and another? What is

a piece? What is a composition? Is a piece a composition or part of a

composition? What are the least differences?"

 

Is this not a seminal statement?  "What are these fascinating "least differences", the morphs that have no time or space between them, and what kind of art do they bring into being?   The least difference will always recede before us into infinitessimality.  2000 years ago Xeno pondered the same "least differences" and new theories of our universe are even harder to lift out of paradox.  But it is often artists who lead the way in conceptualizing new approaches to epistemological problems.  

 

For Pauline the "essence of musicianship" is involved with discerning the smallest units of form, the morphs, which formulate the nature of Time.  She also tells us that there are limits to scientific thinking, and suggests that the human mind has more cards than it has been playing.

 

Well, alright, I'll play a non-scientific card.  Morpheus is the Roman god of sleep and dreams.  Someone who is in the "arms of Morpheus" is asleep.  He is a god of transformation.   We don't understand the dimension of Time.  What exists between the morphs?  This god unravels the density of morphs and touches the mortar of Time.  Perhaps he tells us that morphs are eternal, and transformation only a dream. 

 

William Osborne
100260.243@compuserve.com
 

 

 

 

APPLES OF THE MIND

 

I've been thinking about the larger metaphysical meanings of the witness/universe relationship (the Artist and the One-Song), Abbie's animistic view of the world, "Normanland", and some of the thoughts of Jung and Depth-Psychology.  

 

Perhaps there is no true subjective/objective dichotomy, since the world-as-rendered-by-the-human-mind is also a manifestation of nature.  The apples of the tree are an objective part of nature, but so too are the apples of our mind.  The mind is an expression of nature, and nature is an expression of the mind.  The mind's acts do not always correspond to nature, but neither does the mind impose its own order on the world.  Our mind and nature are not dichotomous, since our mind in all of the fullness of its archetypes is an expression of nature's essential being.  And at the very same instant, nature realizes its essential wholeness through our creativity.  Nature gives my mind its fullest being, and my mind gives nature its fullest being.  That's the reality of Abbie's animistic world, and the archetypal reality of "Normanland".   (For those who don't know, and for the sake of brevity, "Normanland" is Abbie's description of Norman Lowrey and his work.  He uses elements of dreams and highly iconic masks to create rituals with deep psychological and metaphysical meanings.)

 

Far from a dichotomous search for some sort of absolute reality through a singular reliance on "enlightenment", "mindfulness", "scientific knowledge", etc., perhaps we should realize the full powers of a disciplined imagination and let empirical observation be -merged- with the imagination's archetypal realities.  Both nature and the mind realize themselves through this marriage and find their fullest being.  We realize that the world and mind are not separate, but rather a unified whole.  Through creative expression I bring nature's subjective and objective reality to its essential wholeness. 

 

This would suggest that Abbie's animistic world unifying the empirical and the archetypal is the the fullest realization of both the mind's and nature's true being.  And Normanland is not a world of embodied masks that emerge from the unknown depths and heights of -other-  worlds to visit us in ecstatic moments.  Normanland is just reality in its wholeness.  Normanland is Normal Land, the marriage of the empirical and archetypal through the creative act.

 

Our dream-like existence rendered by the human mind is one of nature's children, and through our creative expression the child returns to its mother's arms.