Marissa's Manifesto

When we think about experiencing the performing arts, we all, by and large, think of many of the same things: we buy tickets, we drive to the theater, and we sit in the audience with a lot of other people. We focus, for two hours or so, on the stage in front of us and what is happening on it. When something that we like happens, we applaud. When something touches us, emotionally, sometimes we cry. When something humors us, we laugh. And in the space of those two hours or so, we become a sort of community with the people sitting around us – linked by a shared experience, whether we loved or hated experiencing it.

But, all the while, we are having a personal dialogue inside of our own heads. We may be working to link this performance to our own lives. Or perhaps we’re trying to make sense of what is happening – interpreting the story for ourselves so that we can better understand it. It’s possible that we’re just noticing that the concertmaster’s bow tie is crooked!

These personal thoughts and opinions provide us with a lens, through which we view the artwork that is being presented to us. It is possible, I suppose, that the larger audience reaction could color this lens to some degree, but even in a sea of one million people, the reaction that matters most and the reaction that is most pure and true is the one that each of us develops alone.

I emphasize this because, as nearly every other entertainment medium has done already, the performing arts are entering a sea change. The advent of internet streaming technology has brought on a variety of challenges and changes to our industry, and many within it would have us believe that the sky is about to fall.

People simply don’t have to go out to the theater anymore - and they don’t have the money to go out to the theater every time they want to have an arts experience! Instead, they can stream a Netflix performance of a musical or play to their personal computers, or they can sign into Spotify and listen orchestral to recordings on their newly-affordable high quality home sound systems. Or they can go to the movie theater and watch a live-streamed performance of a world-class opera company for a fraction of what a ticket to the opera house would cost them.

And these new and different experiences – they’re all okay. They’re all real arts experiences. Yes, they’re watching them on screens, and no, it is decidedly NOT the same as going to a theater and seeing a live performance. How could it be? But do the performing arts need to be experienced ONLY in live settings? Will you ONLY be able to understand the theater or the symphony or the ballet if you’ve got your butt in that velvet seat and there is a woman unwrapping a butterscotch candy behind you? I say not.

And the reason why is because of the personal effect that a performing arts experience should have on you internally. Whether you’re in a box at the theater or sitting with your cat on a secondhand couch, that effect remains constant. And if you’re able to experience that feeling, that good, satisfied, moved feeling while wearing your sweatpants and slippers on a Sunday afternoon, imagine how great that feeling will be when you do get out to the theater. Because if you are able to access the performing arts easily and cost effectively and you discover that you love something about them, then you will put your pants on and begin to seek out opportunities to experience them in real life. 

When you love something, good enough is never actually enough. 

Manifesto - Audrey

Music over the centuries has always been described as a combination of melody, harmony, and rhythm. In the Western repertoire, they are the 3 components to music going all the way back to Gregorian chant, which was entirely monophonic (a singular melodic line without harmony). In the Baroque era, we saw an exploration of polyphony and rules that prescribed and set the boundaries for what music was and wasn’t. This continued to develop and grow though the Classical era and in the Romantic era, a further expansion of the symphony orchestra as a means of stretching the boundaries of harmony. Continuing this trend, the last century has been all about the exploration of the ratios between melody, harmony and rhythm. From impressionism, using harmony and rhythm to create the same kind of ambiguous fluidity that is represented in an impressionistic painting, to minimalism utilizing rhythm and harmony to display new techniques such as gating into the vocabulary of orchestration, to everything between and beyond. Regardless where music will go from here, it will always possess some combination of melody, harmony, and rhythm.

Taking it a step further, Jerrold Levinson in “On the Concept of Music” defined music as, “sounds temporarily organized by a person for the purpose of enriching or intensifying experience through active engagement (e.g., listening, dancing, performing) with the sounds regarded primarily, or in significant measure as sounds.” The distinction he makes for music having the purpose of an enriching experience is the defining factor the argument against the belief that classical music is dead. There are many reasons why a person would attend a concert or listen to classical music, but what is unique about music is the ability to transform the context of a piece of music that was written for a specific time and place to fit the themes of current events without the use of words or movement. The transformative experience one has listening to a piece may be entirely different from how another experiences and interprets it.

Levinson also refers to this in his definition as an “experience through active engagement”. This particular component of his definition of music is what will be most important to the artistic vitality of music in the next century. Musicians, music directors, artistic administrators, and management alike need to find a way to make the music of our past relevant. In a recent seminar session by Ara Guzeliman, Dean of the Julliard School, Ara stated as one of his Ten Golden Rules on Artistic Planning, “It is critical that programming promote active engaged listening”, which specifies Levinson’s definition to programming. Successful programming is an art in and of itself and requires input from many moving parts. Starting with the music director and artistic administrator’s vision trickling through operations, and development and marketing. One major flaw in this model is an insistence on engagement being a major player in creating successful programming. I’m not saying that a program’s ability to be marketed or funded should trump the artistic vision of an organization, but a program’s ability to engage in the community is essential. By doing so, a program makes itself relevant among the community and can as a result aid in the marketing and development of the program. Additionally, this kind of programming helps with promoting the branding of the organization as an essential part of the community. Meanwhile, while history has always decided what stands the test of time, composers can contribute to this movement towards community relevant programming by insisting on a larger stake in embracing a curatorial role when premiering a work or having their work performed. By helping to provide context for their pieces, composers can ensure that their pieces are relevant within a program on a symphony’s season.

As orchestras find ways to combat the economic downfall of the last decade, community relevance is going to become increasingly essential in the artistic planning of a symphony orchestra. The economy will never be what it was so it will be the ways that an orchestra proves itself to be relevant and essential to its community that will determine survival.

Manifesto - Michelle Cheng

            John Cage played an undeniably significant role in challenging and reframing the definition of music.  He rejected the conventionally held idea that the basic elements of music – rhythm, harmony, melody, and duration, among others – are requirements of the form.  By his revised definition, music could include all instances of “organized sound”, effectively leaving duration (i.e. a finite amount of time) as the only necessary qualifying element.  In his essay, “On the Concept of Music,” Jerrold Levinson amends Cage’s all-encompassing definition by arguing that certain aural occurrences cannot be called music if they were not created with the intent of “aesthetic appreciation”.  He also makes a distinction between phenomena that we can retroactively apply musical concepts to and those we can truly label as musical.

            In reality, the desire to create something for the purpose of “aesthetic appreciation” should not automatically disqualify any type of organized sound, because this intent is secondary to its perceived meaning to the listener.  Even the most mundane of environmental sounds that one may not consider musical may be more significant or artistically valuable to someone else.  Therefore, defining what constitutes “aesthetic appreciation” for all listeners is futile because it is shaped by an individual’s experience and preferences.  By existence alone, any organized sound can technically be considered musical even if it cannot be analyzed like a more conventional example of music, so separating “real” music from other kinds of organized sound is unnecessary.  The now-problematic conventional classification of music is at least somewhat perpetuated by education: deeper knowledge of the academic side of music makes our personal definition of the form more established and possibly even restrictive.  Fortunately, the sheer diversity of organized sound at our disposal means that contrasting definitions of music can coexist.

            In terms of live musical performance, we tend to value the final artistic product more than the creative process itself, rather than giving equal acknowledgment to both.  Specifically, many listeners favor and expect perfection in a performance.  This tendency may be partially propagated by professional musical training, especially in classical music, where the student’s eventual goal is usually a perfect execution of a musical composition.  However, a performance devoid of errors is not always the most authentic or expressive one.  Fully live performances are the most authentic type in terms of artistic expression, followed by video and audio recordings of live performances and then edited non-live recordings.  Live performances are distinctive because the creation process of the final musical product is occurring in real time.

Comparatively, although the work being performed does not vary across these specific mediums, the artistic quality of the overall listener experience diminishes the further away one moves from the true live performance.  Studio recordings, the converse to live performance in this case, exist in a context of solitude because they are often experienced through individual listening, such as through headphones.  On the other hand, live performances are inherently a collective phenomenon, in which listeners engage in the artistic experience in a shared physical space.  Recordings of live performances, especially those with video, do not completely replicate the synergy of attending a live show, but are still valuable as artifacts of a spontaneous artistic occurrence.

 

Advances in recording and production technology have also contributed to our idealization of flawless performances.  This is especially prevalent in the realm of popular music, in which live performances sometimes consist of performers miming to studio recordings or versions pre-recorded especially for the occasion.  While there are situations that may require using a recording during a live show, such as harsh weather conditions, choosing this option ultimately defeats the purpose and integrity of live music.  Passing off performances that rely on recordings as live eliminates the opportunity for “one-time-only” idiosyncrasies – what listeners usually deem as imperfections as well as spontaneous alterations in artistic interpretation – of true live performance.

Our Manifestos: An Introduction

As budding arts managers, we must learn not only the business practices of an infinitely complicated not-for-profit sector - we must also consider and develop our own artistic principles. By taking the time to think about what “Art” really means to us, we were able to define our personal values – which will hopefully help us to make smarter, more well-informed programming choices in the future!

Taken as a whole, our Manifestos represent the view of a new generation of arts professionals:

We are audience-centric – we believe that the impact that our work has on the audience and the individual experiences that each audience member brings into viewing our work are of the utmost importance.  We do not disregard artistic quality - on the contrary, we hold the art to even higher standards. We want it to serve as a catalyst for emotion, a moral compass, and a binding force for communities.

Follow the links below to take a deeper look at our answers to the question: "What is Art?"

Kelsey Small believes that Art exists when it is used as a social and moralizing force for audiences responding to the work. Art connects audiences to new meaning and encourages them to shatter preconceived notions in exchange for innovative insight and reflection.

Rachael Wilkinson thinks that the idea that art has a higher Truth denies the life experiences and emotional contexts an audience brings to a work. She says Art is not meant to exist in a vacuum and that the audience must be taken into account if discussing this idea of Truth.

Eric Gerdts explores the ephemeral nature of live arts performances – does viewing a live performance diminish the impact on the viewer?

Jesse Montgomery argues that after a period of disjointed experimentation, composers are once again making full use of the orchestra.  The orchestra and the classical vocabulary still have more to say and explore, and are still one of the best instruments for conveying the full range of sounds and emotion.  

Rebecca Fink believes that while the performing arts do not necessarily require audiences to be considered works of art, they are heavily dependent on the viewer in almost every other way.  Regardless of the type of performing arts, audience has an impact on the creation of the work, the life span of that work, and the potential death of that work.

Michelle Cheng muses on the definition of music - it is a dynamic one, shaped by each individual listener's past experiences and exposure to sound. She argues that regardless of what one considers "music," true live performance is the most authentic manifestation of the form, due to the element of spontaneous creation, as well as the fact that process and product are occurring simultaneously.

Jessie Bower says that Art is the representation of knowledge within a deliberate context wherein the intention is for the result or action to be received as art. Art is recognized by the vocabulary that is used to create it. 

Audrey Kwong explores how music over the centuries has always been described as melody, harmony, and rhythm, and has evolved with the trends of the time. However, in order to continue to find it's place amongst the growing number of entertainment options, music, and specifically symphonic and chamber music is going to need to put a larger emphasis on community relevance.

Marissa Cinquanti asks whether art is still art when it is viewed on a screen from the comfort of a movie theater or the audience's own home.

Manifesto - Jesse Montgomery

While I accept the possibility that the symphony orchestra may one day become a thing of the past, both as an art form and a major organization, I do not think that day is near.  I contend that the orchestra continues to be one of the best instruments for conveying the full range of sound and emotion, that the classical language still has room for expansion and experimentation, and that living composers are beginning to once again make full use of its capabilities. 

John Cage considered himself the “organizer of a succession of sounds”, and Claude Debussy stated, “Any sounds in any combination and in any succession are henceforth free to be used in a musical continuity”.  However, the most famous composers, Debussy included, have succeeded because of their ability to orchestrate, picking and choosing among 80 some musicians and countless notes to create a palate that moves an audience, not simply combining sounds at random.  A recent ballet performance I attended featured an arrangement of Debussy’s Clair de lune.  Debussy’s original haunting melody and flawless counterpoint aside, the orchestration and recording left me wanting more. The way this particular orchestrator selected instruments, and the lack of a live performance by a giant living organism lessened the art and the experience.  In the right hands, a simple melody, well known melody can either be heightened by orchestration, or in the wrong hands, diminished.

I bring up Cage and his methods to argue that all signs point to orchestral composers once again using the full capabilities of the orchestra to create relevant, accessible compositions and performances.  In concert halls and movie theaters alike, there is a nearly universal language when it comes to classical music, and nearly infinite possibilities for expansion.  If you are a composer with something to say, why not use the richest palate available, and a recognizable language? 

Whether it be Cage, Schoenberg, Webern, Subotnick or Glass, orchestral music (and classical music in general) experienced a period of experimentation in the last 100 years, using mathematical systems, random selection, electronics and bizarre instruments to create compositions.  Even as I finished my undergraduate degree in 2010, composition students were still bent on experimentation, using strange combinations of instruments, complex or nonexistent rhythms, and extensive silence and noise.  They were the product of a generation of composers that didn’t utilize the orchestra to its fullest potential, if at all, and didn’t build upon the groundwork previous composers had laid.

Moving forward, composers are once again beginning to focus on the capabilities of the orchestra, adding elements of Cage, Subotnick and Glass to the more innately pleasing (classical) sounds of Beethoven, Mahler and Debussy.   This focus on orchestration and the classical language is producing music that is lush, vibrant, energetic, and most importantly, accessible to orchestras and audiences alike.  A prime example of a composer reimagining the orchestra as a part of contemporary art and society is Mason Bates.  What I believe has made Bates so successful is that he is not attempting to reinvent the wheel.  Instead, he builds off of a predominately classical palate or vocabulary with subtle variations.  Bates uses the full range of the orchestra, and adds in elements that speak to both the past and the future of composition.  He might use Tibetan prayer bells, a sound more comfortable in the realm of Cage, combined with the computer-generated tones pioneered by Subotnick, all wrapped up in a Phillip Glass-esque groove.  Other times, he uses the string section as a percussion ensemble to replicate electronic sounds.  Bates can successfully combine different compositional elements into an orchestral work that distinctly sounds like music of this time and place, while not seeming very far from music composed hundreds of years ago. 

Manifesto - Jessica Bower

Art is the representation of knowledge within a deliberate context wherein the intention is for the result or action to be received as art. Art is recognized by the vocabulary that is used to create it. I believe that artistic mediums are made up of vocabularies that establish the language of said medium. Each medium’s language is learned, honed, and crafted until it is interpretable by individual artists. Once individuals become fluent in a language of a certain medium, they are able to explore the parameters and boundaries of the medium, and some go as far as to add content to the vocabulary or attempt to combine two medium’s languages so as to produce a new type of artwork or a new genre within a medium. As new elements are discovered with potential to exist within a medium’s vocabulary, it is the action of using the element within a context that intends to define the new [sound, action, etc.] as art that establishes the element as an addition to the medium’s vocabulary. Acknowledgment of the element’s potential is not enough. Works of art are therefore interpretations of knowledge using or building upon the vocabularies that define the chosen medium, in a context that receives the action or result as an artistic expression.