A "Sequence of Pleasing Sounds"???

It was a challenge trying to muster up any enthusiasm, after watching the clips of Barber’s Antony and Cleopatra, to actually listen to the whole opera. Don’t get me wrong if I were offered a role in it, I would JUMP at the opportunity. Maybe then I would start to appreciate it? Suffice it to say, based on listening alone, I thought Antony and Cleopatra was esoteric, forgettable and an absolute chore to get through. However painful my listening experience was, it got me thinking about the idea of music and what makes a musical work memorable or forgettable.

According to the fourth edition of Webster’s New World College Dictionary, the definition of music is:

MUSIC: 1. The art and science of combining vocal or instrumental sounds or tones in varying melody, harmony, rhythm, and timbre, esp. so as to form structurally complete and emotionally expressive compositions. 2. The sounds or tones so arranged, or the arrangement of these. 3. Any rhythmic sequence of pleasing sounds, as of birds, water, etc… 4. Particular form, style, etc… of musical compositions or a particular class of musical works of a particular style, place, period, or composer. 5. The written or printed score of a musical composition. 6. Ability to respond to or take pleasure in music. 7. [Rare] a group of musical performers – [Informal] to accept the consequences of ones actions, however unpleasant (Face the music).

Yes, at first glance, it is an extremely long definition, however, if you consider what music really is, then, it should take a lifetime to accurately explain. Moreover, many of us who are taking this class have spent an exorbitant amount of time trying to figure out the meaning of this noun. Therefore, to have it reduced to a few measly sentences is rather disheartening and/or slightly insulting. Yet, I found the definition rather interesting because it was primarily an objective definition naming the different facets of music, except for number three. The third part of the definition states, “ rhythmic sequence of pleasing sounds, as of birds water, etc…” Interesting. This is the only part of the definition I found to be accurate, mainly because it captures the essence of what music is; a subjective entity that is open to interpretation. This brings me back to my original question: what makes a musical work memorable or forgettable?

Personally, Antony and Cleopatra, was not a “sequence of pleasing sounds...” and I thought it was forgettable or I just wanted to forget about it. This got me wondering, what is it about a musical work that makes it memorable and loved? I thought back to the pervious week when talked about My Fair Lady, The Most Happy Fella, and Westside Story. We discussed certain aspects of each show that propelled then forward and gave them their own unique quality. The acting and the text drove My Fair Lady, The Most Happy Fella was driven by music, and Westside Story was driven by dance. Most of all, they possessed tangible story lines, memorable tunes and relatable characters, which are aspects that potentially move the human soul. I guess that is probably why Barber focused more on Antony and Cleopatra’s relationship in the revision. He was lacking all of the necessary attributes that make a show likeable; he needed to scale down and isolate the story’s focus on a real-life human situation.

Interestingly enough his revision worked, even though he didn’t get to enjoy the fruits of his labors. I realize I’m approaching this piece negatively, so forgive my litany of complaints, but it is apparent that someone liked it because it won a Grammy Award. This brings me to my final credo, which is; music is a subjective phenomena. A sound that is pleasing to my ears may be repulsive to someone else. Or, is that we, as humans, don’t like to accept something different at first? Are innovation and change things we can’t accept until a new generation grasps them and calls them classics? For instance, in 100 years, is Antony and Cleopatra going to be the new Tosca? NO. Thus, I’ll leave you with a quote from Louis Spohr, from Stark’s Bel Canto, who is referring to Rossini in his tirade on “new music.” “With his ‘flowery song,’ regardless of the pleasures it excites, he is well on the way to putting an end to real song, of which not much is left in Italy anyways.” So, if someone found Rossini distasteful, maybe I could be wrong in my criticisms of Barber’s Antony and Cleopatra?