“My own belief is that all music has an expressive power, some more and some less, but that all music has a certain meaning behind the notes and the meaning behind the notes constitutes, after all, what the piece is saying, what the piece is about. This whole problem can be stated quite simply, by asking, ‘Is there a meaning to Music?’ My answer that would be, ‘Yes.’ And ‘Can you state in so many words what the meaning is?’ My answer to that would be, ‘No.’ …”
Copland, 9
I could not agree any more with this comment, but I feel that this is only in regards to instrumental music, in which only the instruments can convey their expressiveness/meaning. I finished watching Ruggiero Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci the other day and was very well aware the emotions and themes presented by each piece and as well the theme of the Opera (The prologue tells you what the Opera’s theme is before it even begins!). So, in regards to singing…we will leave it alone and perhaps return back to it at a later date. Let us continue in regards to instrumental music…
As I said above, I agree full-heartedly that all music expresses something, regardless how minute or grandeur the composition. Perhaps you are listening to Beethoven’s 9th and in your mind and heart you are filled with strength and excitement that goes unmeasured against any other composition. Maybe your mood softens while listening to the first movement of his Moonlight Sonata on a quiet evening in your home. I could describe pages without end on what I feel the expressiveness a piece is [possibly] emitting, but I believe that you have the idea that Music does something special to the listener(s), and sometimes these effects on us cannot even be described in words. But that leads us to the second question Copland has answered “No”.
What is most amazing about Music is that usually there is no way on telling what exactly the composer has intended a piece of music to express to us, unless of course they bluntly tells us in a program (I’m looking at you Berlioz) or in their music notes. A piece may be of subliminal character that may express beauty to one listening, but to another it may conjure a feeling of sadness. Each individual’s perception on a piece of music may, from time to time, fall under similar alignments, but may vary in its direction of emotion. An example would be…”Is it pessimistically sad or resignedly sad; is it fatefully sad or smilingly sad?” (Copland, 11).
What is marvelous to me about music’s expressiveness is that when I come back to a piece of music I adore, I may have a completely new, or additional, connection to that piece of music. One well-known piece that I found myself finding new meanings for myself is Gustav Holst’s Jupiter, The Bringer of Jollity. When I first heard Jupiter, The Bringer of Jollity years ago, I was filled with glee and excitement throughout the piece. It wasn’t until a year later after first hearing that a sudden feeling of warmth was added to my connections to the piece while listening to the Second Theme. I was struck with such awe; so much that I couldn’t talk or describe in adequate words what I was feeling. I found myself teary-eyed during the playing of the slow movement, and with every repeat of that movement, even more so. They weren’t tears of sadness at all; they were tears of unexplainable happiness. I sit here writing this post and find myself teary-eyed once again while listening to the very piece. Maybe I should change the track ;). And that I shall…to game music, but this will be in the second part of The Expressive Plane.
Hopefully the idea that music generates emotions and connections by the expressive nature of its existence and performance is made clear by this post. The only problem, or rather solution, is that usually there is no one correct meaning for a piece of music, that its ambiguous nature causes it to be a living creature, in which we can only examine the piece and make our own personal claims, while it goes on living its life. Rather than finding strong evidence to support our claims of what a piece of music means and call that meaning and reasoning absolute, embrace the music and whichever meaning you have created for yourself, accepting it as if it was a gift from the composer themselves.
CITATION
Copland, Aaron. What to Listen for in Music. New York: Signet Classic, 2002
