Reading about music is not as good as listening to it. However, there is definitely something to be said for educating oneself about the great art of music through the written word. If music was truly meant to stand alone, composers would leave us no notes in the score, and orchestras would be able to save a lot of money by not printing all those programs that we desperately try to thumb through before the lights go down. (Additionally, this blog would probably not exist… but I’m not even going to think about that catch-22). Reading about the history and context of a piece, the composer that brought it into the world, and the world into which it was brought can add many layers of meaning to the notes.
This is why I’ve recently set myself to reading a book or two about music. In college, I took a handful of music history classes, and did my fair share of reading for them, but I was hoping to go a little bit beyond a dry textbook. The first book I picked up was a relatively short read entitled Stradivari's Genius: Five Violins, One Cello, and Three Centuries of Enduring Perfection, which follows five violins and (you guessed it) one cello from their creation at the studio of Antonio Stradivari to the 20th century. What is interesting about this book is that the author, Toby Faber, chooses to structure his book as if it were a biography of these instruments. He discusses them as if they were living people, moving through different periods of their lives. In the process, we learn about how the instruments were made, how history changed around them, and how we, as a modern society, still just can’t figure out what makes a Stradivarius violin so wonderful. I was intrigued by the fact that, despite watching so many string instruments be played on the stage in front of me, I knew so little about these instruments. After reading this, I’m always going to feel sorry for those people in the Smithsonian American History Museum who quickly browse by the musical instrument cases – they are missing so much.
If you’re in the mood for a heavier read, I strongly suggest The Rest Is Noise: Listening to the Twentieth Century by Alex Ross. Ross is the New Yorker’s music critic and also the recipient of a MacArthur Genius Grant – the guy knows what he’s talking about and he knows how to write it wonderfully. I will say, this book takes some mental energy to get through, but it is well worth it. Ross walks us through the tumultuous 20th century, demonstrating how history and social currents, the lives of the composers, and the music are all so complexly intertwined. On top of being acutely interesting, the book is very well written and obviously thoroughly researched. I wouldn’t want to go head to head with Mr. Ross in a game of musical trivia. Although I already felt comfortable with modern art and music, I felt so much more proficient after reading this, both on a micro level (Ross goes into great detail on a number of popular pieces) and on a larger, overview level.
After reading about a piece that I have already heard, I love to listen to it again to see how my perception has changed. The fact that I always hear more than I did before speaks to the value of picking up a book or two about music.
This is why I’ve recently set myself to reading a book or two about music. In college, I took a handful of music history classes, and did my fair share of reading for them, but I was hoping to go a little bit beyond a dry textbook. The first book I picked up was a relatively short read entitled Stradivari's Genius: Five Violins, One Cello, and Three Centuries of Enduring Perfection, which follows five violins and (you guessed it) one cello from their creation at the studio of Antonio Stradivari to the 20th century. What is interesting about this book is that the author, Toby Faber, chooses to structure his book as if it were a biography of these instruments. He discusses them as if they were living people, moving through different periods of their lives. In the process, we learn about how the instruments were made, how history changed around them, and how we, as a modern society, still just can’t figure out what makes a Stradivarius violin so wonderful. I was intrigued by the fact that, despite watching so many string instruments be played on the stage in front of me, I knew so little about these instruments. After reading this, I’m always going to feel sorry for those people in the Smithsonian American History Museum who quickly browse by the musical instrument cases – they are missing so much.
If you’re in the mood for a heavier read, I strongly suggest The Rest Is Noise: Listening to the Twentieth Century by Alex Ross. Ross is the New Yorker’s music critic and also the recipient of a MacArthur Genius Grant – the guy knows what he’s talking about and he knows how to write it wonderfully. I will say, this book takes some mental energy to get through, but it is well worth it. Ross walks us through the tumultuous 20th century, demonstrating how history and social currents, the lives of the composers, and the music are all so complexly intertwined. On top of being acutely interesting, the book is very well written and obviously thoroughly researched. I wouldn’t want to go head to head with Mr. Ross in a game of musical trivia. Although I already felt comfortable with modern art and music, I felt so much more proficient after reading this, both on a micro level (Ross goes into great detail on a number of popular pieces) and on a larger, overview level.After reading about a piece that I have already heard, I love to listen to it again to see how my perception has changed. The fact that I always hear more than I did before speaks to the value of picking up a book or two about music.
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