Beethoven

[Robert Jones]

Barbara. you wrote this in the thread "Wagner" (in the latter part, in the discussion of your love for works of Thomas Wolfe):

"It was not logically possible, was the unnamed message of her denunciations, that Barbara loved both Atlas Shrugged and Look Homeward , Angel. To do so would be a desecration of Atlas. Barbara must renounce Wolfe in order fully to love Atlas , in order to deserve Ayn's friendship - in order to prove that she shared Ayn's sense of life. Her love for Wolfe must be stamped out; Barbara must be returned to her. And similarly with Joan and Allan Blumenthal; it was not logically possible that Joan loved the French Impressionists and also Vermeer, or that Allan loved Rachmaninoff and also Beethoven. They must renounce their false loves in order to share Ayn's sense of life."

The question I have bears upon an observation I noticed in my reading about Ayn. I've witnessed more than one writer note that she would dismiss an artist (say, Renoir) out of hand based upon viewing one work. This was also attributed to her even when judging thinkers, philosophers, basing their whole body of work on scant references.

I might be mistaken to some degree or other, but that's how I remember it. Nonetheless, I am curious to know if she did this in regard to music as well. It might be difficult to do with Beethoven, because his music is so ubiquitous. One cannot live a lifetime without at least encountering the opening the the Fifth Symphony, the "Ode to Joy" from the Ninth, the opening to the Moonlight Sonata and Fuer Elise, at least one could not given her context.

It makes me wonder if she had ever heard Beethoven's Seventh Symphony. The "Ode to Joy" might have mirthful sentiments in its lyrics, but the austere heaviness of the symphony's opening weighs it down even as it soars.

Yet, his Seventh symphony is the model of passion cross-bred with logic. The finale to me is his real "Ode to Joy," written in a classical structure, but so exuberant that it is his first unabashed foray into the realm of Romanticism. A very triumphal piece, the Allegro con Brio is also light of heart, very life-affiirming.

Just wondering....

[Ellen Stuttle]

The question I have bears upon an observation I noticed in my reading about Ayn. I've witnessed more than one writer note that she would dismiss an artist (say, Renoir) out of hand based upon viewing one work. This was also attributed to her even when judging thinkers, philosophers, basing their whole body of work on scant references.

I might be mistaken to some degree or other, but that's how I remember it. Nonetheless, I am curious to know if she did this in regard to music as well. It might be difficult to do with Beethoven, because his music is so ubiquitous. One cannot live a lifetime without at least encountering the opening the the Fifth Symphony, the "Ode to Joy" from the Ninth, the opening to the Moonlight Sonata and Fuer Elise, at least one could not given her context.

It makes me wonder if she had ever heard Beethoven's Seventh Symphony. [Etc.]

Robert,

I don't have time to search out my earlier posts about the exact extent to which AR had heard/had not heard Beethoven. There's a story I tell about the delightful young girl Julie (I was in my late 20s, nearly 30 or maybe a little over 30 at the time, thus thought of Julie as "young") who asked AR at the Ford Hall Forum about Beethoven. And about a whole group of us in NYC knowing Julie would ask the question. And about AR's response that B. was "a giant of the malevolent sense of life [she'd first explained the meaning of her term 'malevolent sense of life'] which is the opposite of mine," and about my standing behind Julie in the reception line following when Julie said, charmingly -- so charmingly AR listened -- "But Miss Rand, have you heard...?" and she named several Beethoven compositions, and about how "Miss Rand" answered that she didn't know, and about how Julie then sent AR record samples -- and was sent in turn a letter so scathing Julie dropped out of O'ist circles.

Also there are posts, I think in the "Art as Microcosm" thread, giving some details about my numerous discussions with Allan Blumenthal on Rand's dismissing of most of the music by most of the composers I expect -- given what you've said on this list -- you would consider "great," and speculations about why she liked Rachmaninoff so much. I'm aware that I've written enough posts on this list, you might have troubles finding my particular posts on musical issues. However, I've written a number of such, from a closer-to-the-source (direct second-hand report from Allan Blumenthal) perspective of Rand in her post-Split years than anyone else here has available from which to report.

Ellen

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Edited March 9, 2007 by Ellen Stuttle

[Wrighty]

......his Seventh symphony is the model of passion cross-bred with logic. The finale to me is his real "Ode to Joy," written in a classical structure, but so exuberant that it is his first unabashed foray into the realm of Romanticism. A very triumphal piece, the Allegro con Brio is also light of heart, very life-affiirming.

Just wondering....

If you are led into the 7th from the standpoint of Wagner's description, "the apotheosis of the dance", then you might well be confused by the poco sostenuto opening section and also the allegretto. In tempo these are the slowest parts of the symphony...but they are anything but slow! The rhythmic drive of the work is what makes it so great for me, and that drive is evident in almost every bar.

Listen to the 1st movement intro closely.....a classical routine, yes, but with two themes? Almost a mini movement in itself! Certainly not just an intro...and we never hear it again.

This section and the allegretto especially are what exemplify Beethoven's boldness in breaking all conventions and taking music well into the Romantic period and way beyond.

Every time you listen to Beethoven he reaches you on a variety of levels...I can think of no other composer able to do this as well. He is all things to all men....and the 7th too is just that. The closer you study it the greater it becomes.............

[Barbara Branden]

A very interesting question, Robert. I'll answer in a somewhat roundabout way.

Not long after I met Rand, we began discussing some of the issues I was struggling with in my philosophy classes at UCLA. It became my custom to wrestle as hard as I could with positions held by thinkers such as Hume, or Decartes, or Plato, and by more obscure thinkers whom I was studying. If I thought a certain position was correct, I'd try to justify it; if I thought it was mistaken, I'd try to discover and name precisely why. If I was completely stuck, then I would take the problem to Rand. Often, I would bring my textbook with me, and show her the passage or passages that were creating problems for me, where, perhaps, I thought there was an error but could not identify it.

What usually happened was remarkable. Rand would read the relevant material, then give a non-stop presentatkon of how and where and why the philosopher had made mistakes, and what the correct answer should have been. And then -- and it was this that was more than remarkable, it was astonishing -- she would tell me what that thinker, because of what he had concluded on the subject, say, of metaphysics, would necessarily have concluded about epistemology, morality, politics, etc. And I never found her to be mistaken. Her power to see the world in a grain of sand was prodigious.

Rand understood this about herself; she knew that she could see vast implications in the smallest of signs. And so, to answer your question, yes, she did the same thing with music that she did with philosophy, convinced that her conclusions would be equally valid. But because music comes from emotions, and emotions can be contradictory and can vary enormously within the same person, it can't be done with nearly the same validity. She intensely disliked composers of whose work she had heard anything but a representative sample. She would hear only fragments of a composer, perhaps something gloomy -- and that was that; she would listen to no more, convinced she understood everything she needed to understand about his music. I suspect that had she first heard some of Rachmaninoff's more tragic music, she might never have discovered his Second Concerto. And I doubt very much that she ever listened to Beethoven's Seventh Symphony; she would have made her final decision about his music long before anyone might have mentioned the Seventh Symphony.

Barbara

[Jonathan]

Robert quoted Barbara from the "Wagner" thread:

"It was not logically possible, was the unnamed message of her denunciations, that Barbara loved both Atlas Shrugged and Look Homeward , Angel. To do so would be a desecration of Atlas."

That attitude is still very much alive among Rand's followers. I don't know how many times within just the last two years I've seen them claim that to love artwork X is to desecrate artwork Y. Too many to count.

What usually happened was remarkable. Rand would read the relevant material, then give a non-stop presentatkon of how and where and why the philosopher had made mistakes, and what the correct answer should have been. And then -- and it was this that was more than remarkable, it was astonishing -- she would tell me what that thinker, because of what he had concluded on the subject, say, of metaphysics, would necessarily have concluded about epistemology, morality, politics, etc. And I never found her to be mistaken. Her power to see the world in a grain of sand was prodigious.

Rand understood this about herself; she knew that she could see vast implications in the smallest of signs. And so, to answer your question, yes, she did the same thing with music that she did with philosophy, convinced that her conclusions would be equally valid. But because music comes from emotions, and emotions can be contradictory and can vary enormously within the same person, it can't be done with nearly the same validity. She intensely disliked composers of whose work she had heard anything but a representative sample. She would hear only fragments of a composer, perhaps something gloomy -- and that was that; she would listen to no more, convinced she understood everything she needed to understand about his music. I suspect that had she first heard some of Rachmaninoff's more tragic music, she might never have discovered his Second Concerto. And I doubt very much that she ever listened to Beethoven's Seventh Symphony; she would have made her final decision about his music long before anyone might have mentioned the Seventh Symphony.

That attitude is also very much alive among Objectivists. In fact, I would say that it almost seems to be the essence of Objectivist Esthetics as practiced by many of Rand's most dedicated followers. It's as if limiting oneself to trying to quickly "see the world in a grain of sand" is proof of the power of Objectivism and of how well Rand's followers have mastered it. Like Rand, they think that they can carelessly glance at or listen to a single part of a single work of art and then morally judge the art, the artist, his entire career, and all of those who love his work. And they believe that doing so is very heroic.

J

[Rodney]

Let's be fair, AR did hold that it is possible to separate the purely esthetic value of art from the value of the "emotional universe" it reflects.

However, I would say that sometimes the former is so overwhelmingly great that it more than compensates for the latter, all told. I find this is true for Beethoven for me. I do not identify with his metaphysical values as I perceive them in his work, but I study his scores and marvel at his music and his genius.

[Rich Engle]

That attitude is also very much alive among Objectivists. In fact, I would say that it almost seems to be the essence of Objectivist Esthetics as practiced by many of Rand's most dedicated followers. It's as if limiting oneself to trying to quickly "see the world in a grain of sand" is proof of the power of Objectivism and of how well Rand's followers have mastered it. Like Rand, they think that they can carelessly glance at or listen to a single part of a single work of art and then morally judge the art, the artist, his entire career, and all of those who love his work. And they believe that doing so is very heroic.

The problem is that none of them, and I mean none, have ever been as good as she was at doing that.

Can it cause mistakes? Of course, as Barbara points out with listening to a gloomy passage...

But even with more inviting examples, it happens. But she was obviously very good at extrapolating.

[Barbara Branden]

Jonathan: "Robert quoted Barbara from the "Wagner" thread:

QUOTE

'It was not logically possible, was the unnamed message of her denunciations, that Barbara loved both Atlas Shrugged and Look Homeward , Angel. To do so would be a desecration of Atlas.'

"That attitude is still very much alive among Rand's followers. I don't know how many times within just the last two years I've seen them claim that to love artwork X is to desecrate artwork Y. Too many to count."

Jonathan, quite seriously I think you've been talking to the wrong Objectivists. Certainly, there are those who have this attitude. But notice the people here, at Objectivist Living. They have quite a different attitude. And among the people I speak with, I cannot think of a single one who would presume to moralize in the area of esthetic preferences. Similarly, the people at TOS/AS would not claim that "to love artwork X is to desecrate artwork Y."

Of course, there can be exceptions to this. If someone were to tell me that his notion of high, inspiring art was that creature who went on stage and bit the head off chickens, I would certainly prefer that he not like anything I liked. Here, I would agree with Rand.

Barbara

[PalePower]

Oh my.

Is it just me, or does anybody not CARE what a composer's philosophy was when listening to his music - and believe that it is an insult and downright ignorant to even consider their lifestyle when judging their music?

I am horrified to see that anyone would ever even think of doing that.

Rand may have been able to glean a philosopher's entire scope just from an excerpt (and all power to her - what Barbara described sounds simply astounding), but you would NEVER do that for music!! Like Barbara said, it deals with emotions, which are much more complex and insubstantial to use as a basis for evaluating one's philosophy - simply because it is, yes, subjective. Two people can be sad for two completely different and even constrasting reasons; it doesn't change the fact that their present EMOTIONAL state is the same, and that BOTH of them could gain something from listening to a "sad" piece of music.

I'm surprised to read this about Ayn Rand, too, since I'm pretty sure I remember reading in The Romantic Manifesto that Rand said that music could mean different things to different people - am I correct? I don't know how you could argue AGAINST that, since there is nothing concrete to pin onto the "morality" of a piece of music, since none of the REASONS for that emotion are given.

I could go forever, so I'll stop. =D I'm still just boggled that anybody could ever think that. I'm also boggled that Ayn Rand could hate Beethoven in the first place. In addition to his Seventh, what about the Tempest Sonata? More importantly, what about the Adagio of his "Emperor" Piano Sonata? It breaks my heart!

What exactly was AR's critique of Beethoven - what were the pieces that set her off? I'm very interested, if anybody has that information.

[Rich Engle]

As a lifelong musician and songwriter, I have to come clean and say no, I really don't care where it comes from. With the exception that I will not support (as in buy) the work of people who are dedicated to one form of inhuman evildoing or another. Meaning, there might even be some thing stuck in one of those skinhead/neo-nazi albums that I might be interested in looking at in a certain analytical, composerly way, but those freaks aren't getting a dime out of me. On the other hand, a lot of that stuff is just glitz anyway. A lot of (I think most of) the supposedly "satanic" rock music was just for titillating marketing purposes..."eew, we're so DARK and EVIL!" Yeah, whatever...

Sometimes it's just a matter of the fascinating experience of comparing the music to the person. I remember watching film of Charles Manson playing guitar and singing. This was a very odd thing. I've heard an album of Manson's music (which, for more than the most part, is total crap), and there's an oddness to it that made me want to pause over it for a minute. Musically, I'm not above listening to trainwrecks any more than I am slowing down to look at them. I'm listening to an album by a local group called The New Lou Reeds that is one of the most sludgy things I've ever heard...but there's this thing going on in there. Low doses, but I listen to it. Musicians, artistic types, we enjoy slumming sometimes. Last weekend I was on a double dinner date and the tab was 400 bucks. The day before we were at a biker bar having burgers and beers, the tab was 9 bucks. Both good.

Hey, you look at the lives of a lot of the "legitimate" jazz and classical guys, you're going to see some real slimy stuff. Scoundrel stuff. There wouldn't be many musicians left if we applied full orthodox O-style moral judgment to them, that's for sure. Heck, if the truth came out about musician doings just that I'm aware of over the last 30 years, there would be a few hundred of them (including me) rotting in jail cells all over the country (to paraphrase Hunter Thompson).

Music has a way of transcending. And a lot of times that means transcending even the composer. Frank Zappa was once asked a question about his process, and he said "to speak of it is death." Music is very different in that way--it tends to border on the unknowns of life.

Edited March 9, 2007 by Rich Engle

[Ellen Stuttle]

I'm surprised to read this about Ayn Rand, too, since I'm pretty sure I remember reading in The Romantic Manifesto that Rand said that music could mean different things to different people - am I correct?

Not exactly, no. She was aware that she couldn't prove that her reactions to music were the right ones, because -- she thought -- proving this would require a theory of the physiology of music which we don't yet have. (Partly her physiologic theory is based on misinformation in any case.) But she believed, though she didn't say this in so many words in the article itself, that when the proof was provided, it would support her preferences.

I could go forever, so I'll stop. =D I'm still just boggled that anybody could ever think that. I'm also boggled that Ayn Rand could hate Beethoven in the first place. In addition to his Seventh, what about the Tempest Sonata? More importantly, what about the Adagio of his "Emperor" Piano Sonata? It breaks my heart!

What exactly was AR's critique of Beethoven - what were the pieces that set her off? I'm very interested, if anybody has that information.

Again, look through the first two-three pages of posts on the "Art as Microcosm" thread, where you will find a discussion between me and Roger Bissell which gets into the question of Ayn Rand's dislike of Beethoven.

Ellen

Edit: Here's a link which will take you directly into the Beethoven part of the discussion; go to post #50 on the thread, then work backward and for a few posts forward from there, reading the posts by Roger and me plus a few by Dragonfly, and you'll find leads on the AR/Beethoven puzzlement. (The question of why AR didn't like Beethoven was one which was talked about and talked about and.......ad infinitum in New York O'ist circles in the '70s.)

___

Edited March 9, 2007 by Ellen Stuttle

[Jonathan]

Jonathan, quite seriously I think you've been talking to the wrong Objectivists. Certainly, there are those who have this attitude. But notice the people here, at Objectivist Living. They have quite a different attitude.

I agree. OL is a refreshing change.

And among the people I speak with, I cannot think of a single one who would presume to moralize in the area of esthetic preferences. Similarly, the people at TOS/AS would not claim that "to love artwork X is to desecrate artwork Y."

Yeah, the TOC/TAS gang seems to be made up of actual grownups.

Of course, there can be exceptions to this. If someone were to tell me that his notion of high, inspiring art was that creature who went on stage and bit the head off chickens, I would certainly prefer that he not like anything I liked. Here, I would agree with Rand.

I don't know of anyone who bit off a chicken's head. I think that was an urban legend about Alice Cooper that turned out to be false. I heard that Ozzy Osborne bit off a bat's head on stage, but that he did so because he mistakenly thought it was a rubber bat. He also bit the head off of a dove (not by accident) in a meeting with record company executives, but that was a drunken publicity stunt and not anything that anyone would consider part of his stage act or "high, inspiring art."

As far as preferring that someone not like something I that I like, I don't identify with that. It seems to have a sort of guilt by association flavor to it, or a Randian "a work of art can only mean what I think it means" flavor. I don't particularly like Ozzy, but someone else might be inspired by hearing something in his music that I don't hear or connect with, which has nothing to do with biting heads off of things. If someone were to tell me that she loved music by both Ozzy and Bizet, if anything I might be interested in discovering why she liked both. It wouldn't occur to me to wish that she'd stop liking Bizet because I have a negative opinion of Ozzy. (I wouldn't assume that my appraisal of Ozzy is the "correct" appraisal and that anyone who likes any of his music or his stage show must like it for the reasons that I don't.)

J

Edited March 9, 2007 by Jonathan

[Jonathan]

Hey, Rich, when will your CD be available? I'm still looking forward to hearing it.

J

[Ellen Stuttle]

Specifically in regard to Beethoven's Seventh Symphony: I do not know for sure if Rand ever heard that symphony. As best I recall, it was not amongst the batch of recordings which Julie sent to Rand, upon having charmed Rand enough at the Ford Hall Forum, Rand consented to listen to some selections Julie sent her. The Sixth Symphony I remember was in the list; also, I think, the Fourth Symphony; also the Fourth Piano Concerto and "The Tempest" sonata (those two I'm sure Julie mentioned), and I think the Violin Concerto.

The Seventh Symphony has in spades the Germanic characteristics to which Rand reacted, in general, negatively. "The Tempest" I think she would have liked if she'd heard it as an isolated composition and without being told that Beethoven wrote it. It has enough of a "Romanticism" quality, I think that it would have passed muster in her ear.

I've always liked Wagner's description of the Seventh as "the apotheosis of the dance," only I'd change that to "the apotheosis of potency" -- in particular masculine sexual potency. In the days when music was recorded on records, I wore out the grooves of two records in a row of Szell conducting the Cleveland Orchestra in B's 7th: musical masturbation; I was almost guaranteed to have a climax by the end.

Ellen

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[Judith]

So much of music and our responses to it our individual that to judge another person by his/her responses to a particular piece is downright absurd. It's a moment of beautiful rapport when another person responds to one of our favorite pieces as we do, but if someone likes something we don't, it can be for all kinds of reasons.

I was saying to Michael when I met him and Kat for dinner in Chicago in January that, quite the opposite of people who can't enjoy music unless they can visualize some kind of program to it, I don't WANT to know what the composer had in mind for it. To me, music is music in and of itself. Sometimes what I hear in it is completely different from what the composer was thinking when he wrote it. For example, Mahler's Sixth Symphony, First Movement, is supposedly tragic. To me, living almost a hundred years after it was written and having the benefit of having heard music written after that piece was written that has other associations, such as film music, the music isn't tragic but stirring and exciting and martial. I don't CARE what Mahler was thinking; I like it for what *I* hear in it.

Rand didn't take into account differences of this kind.

Judith

[Dragonfly]

Yeah, the TOC/TAS gang seems to be made up of actual grownups.

Like Joe Rowlands, you mean?

[Dragonfly]

Rand may have been able to glean a philosopher's entire scope just from an excerpt

Really? You think her judgment of for example Kant, Hume, Russell or Emerson is accurate?

[Dragonfly]

I'm surprised to read this about Ayn Rand, too, since I'm pretty sure I remember reading in The Romantic Manifesto that Rand said that music could mean different things to different people - am I correct?

She didn't always practice what she preached.

[Jonathan]

Yeah, the TOC/TAS gang seems to be made up of actual grownups.

Like Joe Rowlands, you mean?

No. I didn't mean anyone and everyone who might have spoken at a TOC/TAS function, but the actual staff. For example, Pigero, one of the shrillest infants in the Objectivist movement when it comes to frantic moralizing about art, has also spoken at a Summer Seminar, but I don't consider him to be a part of TOC/TAS either.

J

[Wrighty]

I've always liked Wagner's description of the Seventh as "the apotheosis of the dance," only I'd change that to "the apotheosis of potency" -- in particular masculine sexual potency. In the days when music was recorded on records, I wore out the grooves of two records in a row of Szell conducting the Cleveland Orchestra in B's 7th: musical masturbation; I was almost guaranteed to have a climax by the end.

Ellen

___

A fascinating observation, Ellen. Beethoven had a close friendship, at the time the 7th was written in 1811, with Antonie Brentano. One can only speculate......

[Wrighty]

I was saying to Michael when I met him and Kat for dinner in Chicago in January that, quite the opposite of people who can't enjoy music unless they can visualize some kind of program to it, I don't WANT to know what the composer had in mind for it. To me, music is music in and of itself. Sometimes what I hear in it is completely different from what the composer was thinking when he wrote it. For example, Mahler's Sixth Symphony, First Movement, is supposedly tragic. To me, living almost a hundred years after it was written and having the benefit of having heard music written after that piece was written that has other associations, such as film music, the music isn't tragic but stirring and exciting and martial. I don't CARE what Mahler was thinking; I like it for what *I* hear in it.

Rand didn't take into account differences of this kind.

Judith

Music is essentially an aural experience, but for those whose reference of the world is visual I guess the programme does have some importance. It doesn't count for me though.....I feel that when I listen to music the music is the world and I am either outside looking in or I'm inside looking out. Some musical language allows easier access to the listener....and familiarity with that language (eg Byrd, Bach, Beethoven, Berg) opens up further insights, or outlooks, depending on your tastes or preferences.

The first movement of Mahler's 6th is what you make it. If you don't know Mahler's language it can seem almost manic, confused. If you do know his language then it stands in there with all his other symphonic 1st movements....where he invites you into the world of each particular symphony...shows you what he sees and feels and where he is going. He invites you to join him on this journey...and it is a journey. He requires you to take every step along the way.....

(which is why when they just play the Adagietto of the 5th I'm always let down.....)

His 6th sits with other darker works in the symphonic repertoire, Rachmaninov 1st, Brahms 4th, Mozart 40th.

They all start and finish in minor keys.

[Ellen Stuttle]

I've always liked Wagner's description of the Seventh as "the apotheosis of the dance," only I'd change that to "the apotheosis of potency" -- in particular masculine sexual potency. In the days when music was recorded on records, I wore out the grooves of two records in a row of Szell conducting the Cleveland Orchestra in B's 7th: musical masturbation; I was almost guaranteed to have a climax by the end.

Ellen

___

A fascinating observation, Ellen. Beethoven had a close friendship, at the time the 7th was written in 1811, with Antonie Brentano. One can only speculate......

And, oh, how everyone does! (Who WAS the "immortal beloved"?) But do you mean Bettina? Is "Bettina" diminutive for "Antonie"? Now I'll have to go check in Thayer. Thayer thought that Bettina was SHE, but there are many other musicologists who think that Thayer thought so just because he was enchanted by Bettina, who was still alive when he was working on the biography and whom he met.

One person we know it was not was the sister-in-law, imagined in the role in the movie "Immortal Beloved." I think that Beethoven would have wanted to blow up the studio if he saw the movie. Watching it gave me trouble of torn perspective: on the one hand, my historical knowledge of Beethoven's life and of what the sister-in-law was actually like -- and looked like (have you ever seen a picture of her?) -- and of how Beethoven felt -- probably not justly -- about her. On the other hand, I thought the idea was wickedly clever and the movie was well done, and I was fascinated by Gary Oldman in the role, and seeing Isabelle Rossellini (sp?) I always find a treat, and she and Oldman have a real-world spark between them which may have added to the scenes with the two of them. If I hadn't known how far-fetched the premise was, and how angry Beethoven would probably have been at the idea, I could have let go better and enjoyed the film qua film. As it was, despite my reservations, I became wrapped up in it. Also, despite the flawed main premise, I found the portrayal of Beethoven's personality plausible and absorbing.

Last summer, on our Budapest jaunt which ended with a few days in Vienna, we went to the house he was living in when he wrote the Heiligenstadt Testament. (Gave me a spookily awed feeling walking within a physical space wherein he existed for awhile.) Amongst the displays was a good facsimile of the Immortal Beloved letter; also of the dedication page of the Eroica with the dedication to Napoleon rubbed out.

Ellen

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Edited March 10, 2007 by Ellen Stuttle

[PalePower]

As far as preferring that someone not like something I that I like, I don't identify with that. It seems to have a sort of guilt by association flavor to it, or a Randian "a work of art can only mean what I think it means" flavor. I don't particularly like Ozzy, but someone else might be inspired by hearing something in his music that I don't hear or connect with, which has nothing to do with biting heads off of things. If someone were to tell me that she loved music by both Ozzy and Bizet, if anything I might be interested in discovering why she liked both. It wouldn't occur to me to wish that she'd stop liking Bizet because I have a negative opinion of Ozzy. (I wouldn't assume that my appraisal of Ozzy is the "correct" appraisal and that anyone who likes any of his music or his stage show must like it for the reasons that I don't.)

Hooray! It's refreshing to encounter this outlook - I share the same view. There is SO much to learn about a person not only by their response to a particular piece of art, but the reasons behind their response. Even if that new knowledge about their psychology is - in whatever way - displeasing, it's still FASCINATING. Personally, I would (usually) never want to shield myself from learning something new - it's just another facet of life, and I love life. I want to know everything there is to know about it. It's definitely possible to keep both an open mind and closed principles.

In regards to Ozzy and Bizet, hey, there's me! (Though I'm not as much an expert on Bizet as I am with other classical composers.) I LOVE classical music - I write classical music. And I also LOVE heavy metal - I incorporate elements of it into some of my music. I go home and write with Rachmaninoff humming next to me, and then I go out for a drive and blast Blind Guardian. Both touch me - psychologically, mentally, and emotionally - on levels that the other genre can't fulfill. Classical music is the equivalent of sitting down and reading a thoughtful book, learning a new idea, participating in a stimulating discussion: it's rife with meaning, usefulness and thrill; but it's also controlled and consciously guided - there's a certain calm to it, no matter how exuberant the piece. Rock is the equivalent of stepping out into an onslaught of sunshine and not being ABLE to ponder said complex ideas because their intended result - love of this earth - is an irrefutable given, swooping down upon you on all sides; it's the equivalent of setting your book down behind you and throwing yourself down a grassy hill, rolling around in all of life’s energy and getting it tangled in your hair and dusted over your nose and smeared all over your arms and legs. Rock is having FUN.

There are plenty of Ozzy's songs that I don't really care for, but some of my absolute favorite rock songs are his, particularly "No More Tears," "Gets Me Through," and "I Just Want You" - MOSTLY the last one. I LOVE that song! They shoot me up with adrenaline and rev my imagination.

[PalePower]

Rand may have been able to glean a philosopher's entire scope just from an excerpt

Really? You think her judgment of for example Kant, Hume, Russell or Emerson is accurate?

Operative word is "may," referring to the previous posts talking about that supposed talent of hers. I myself don't share that opinion, nor the contrary, because I don't know enough about the topic to evaluate it just yet.

[Ellen Stuttle]

So much of music and our responses to it our individual that to judge another person by his/her responses to a particular piece is downright absurd. It's a moment of beautiful rapport when another person responds to one of our favorite pieces as we do, but if someone likes something we don't, it can be for all kinds of reasons.

And even those moments of "beautiful rapport" can be with a person with whom one wouldn't have any large amount of rapport in general.

Your comment, combined with Jonathan's having mentioned Bizet, immediately brought back to me a feeling of a special moment. It was after sunset a November afternoon, a darkened church...

There's a local chamber orchestra which gives four concerts a season (between November and June) at an Episcopalean church near here. The church is a marvelous work of architecture; the way it's laid out and ornamented and decorated brings to my mind the words "Make a joyful noise." It's a good place for music, and has excellent acoustics. The conductor for many years was a friend of ours, a wild Hungarian expatriot (though, actually, a scion of Czech ancestors). We attended every performance we could. One time -- in November -- they played the Bizet symphony written when Bizet was only 16 years old. The choice had been made by the orchestra's lead oboist. His wife had died, and the symphony was played dedicated to her.

The November fading light through the windows of that wonderful space; the orchestra playing well; the oboist giving his all...

Afterward, when almost everyone had left, following the usual post-concert reception, I happened to be coming in from the front doors of the church -- I'd stepped outside for a moment -- just as the oboist was heading to leave. I told him how much I'd enjoyed his playing, and we talked for awhile -- in near darkness by then -- about Bizet's amazing depth composing such a movement at 16.

It was an experience of profound rapport -- and yet the oboist and I are not people who would click in any large way even as close friends. We like each other; we're cordial acquaintances. But we'd never be particularly close. Yet that shared moment we've both remembered, and we've smiled at each other with a special "Hello" nod ever since.

Ellen

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