SAN DIEGO — How many times you have heard people say, “Don’t give away the ending; it will spoil it for me.” They could be referring to a novel, a film, or a television episode. You may have expressed this yourself to others.
There was an interesting article I recently read about a professor at UCSD who specializes in subjects and research which others may consider trivia and/or inconsequential. I did not.. Social psychologist Nicholas Christenfeld has researched off-the-wall subjects such as heart attacks of New Yorkers, (both residents and tourists), longevity of people whose initials in their names spell bad things, if babies look at all like their parents, if dogs resemble their owners, and other such matters. What may seem at first glance to be irrelevant to everyday life, may actually point to serious insights about the human condition.
What particularly caught my attention was the topic of my opening paragraph. When told of an especially interesting film or book, many people wait for the thrill at its conclusion, when there may be a surprising ending which will shock and reveal “who did it.”
I, and probably many others, do not care to wait for the surprising revelation at the end of the tale, but rather enjoy seeing it develop as the story continues. In this manner, one gets to appreciate the work of the creator at a different, and I believe, a higher level of depth.
For example, in music, when you attend a live performance of an opera, a new one, or possibly a classic which is new to you, it is best if you read the synopsis of the opera from beginning to end, appreciate more the character development, and become aware of the thematic material. Yes, we know that Mimi dies at the end of Puccini’s La Boheme, but so much of the appreciation and enjoyment of this great opera is hardly based on its last two minutes.
It may work on an occasional mystery novel, but when it comes to great art, the true enjoyment is found from the first page, the first note, and not in the juicy ending. As it is said in the article about Christenfeld, giveaways actually make stories more comprehensible, and novels that are character driven, not plot driven, hold up together a lot better.
I would go with this argument a step further: In absolute music, the kind where there is no story or program, just pure music, (what you will find in most symphonies and concertos), the satisfaction is increased many times over with repeated listenings and exposure. We are no longer limited to the emotions of a first hearing, but start to anticipate the sounds and moments we previously enjoyed, and when they arrive, they give us further satisfaction.
This is really what makes a discriminating music lover and critic. It is not the act of hearing a piano concerto by Beethoven for the first time, but the experience of having heard it many times before, knowing what is about to take place, and determining if this pianist’s interpretation stands up to our mental ideal on how we want it to sound.
Another example: If you attend a live concert where one of the featured selections is your favorite Tchaikovsky symphony, you may be already anxious to hear how it will be played by a mythical Maestro Omschlag with the Martian Philharmonic. If you are open minded and somewhat knowledgeable, you may find that particular interpretation to your expected standards, dismally below it, or even surpassing your expectations. This is the fun of hearing familiar music under the hands of different interpreters.
But, to the above, performers have two options, or a varied mix between them. Either A) To interpret familiar classics in standard, expected tempos and balances, but in absolutely, the most precise, tasteful manner, or, B) Give the familiar piece a totally different perspective, in an attempt to make a unique statement, changing things around, and hopefully achieve a new twist, something artistic and worthy of praise.
Our choices as listeners are sometimes not too clear. Simply playing familiar music louder and faster, or slower and softer is hardly a serious statement.
Finally, this brings us to one of the failings of modern and new music to become part of our list of favorites: World premieres of new music are certainly a good first step, but love comes to us through familiarity and repeated exposure. Take a piece of symphonic music which you may not know, or even like on a first hearing, say, Béla Bartók’s incredibly exciting Concerto for Orchestra. Without a doubt, this is one of the greatest orchestral compositions of the Twentieth Century. Even if you did not really enjoy it for the first time, listen to the recording repeatedly, even ten times or more. Eventually, and before too long, you will love it, and look forward to great anticipation to hearing it again. And maybe, just maybe, it will be ingrained solidly in your memory, where you will hear other conductors do it, hear the differences, and have your personal opinions on them.
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Amos is conductor of the Tifereth Israel Community Orchestra in San Diego, and has guest conducted professional orchestras around the world. He may be contacted at david.amos@sdjewishworld.com