Breaking the Sound Barrier: an argument for mainstream literary music

Arguments about musical aesthetics often degenerate into "shouting matches” that end in stalemate. In Breaking the Sound Barrier, I present evidence that some works are objectively better than others. This is a particularly timely issue because a great deal of bad music is being performed in American concert halls right now and a great deal of good music isn't. If you believe that qualitative judgment in the arts is purely subjective, this book should persuade you to rethink your position. If, on the other hand, you think there is a genuine qualitative difference between one musical work and another, this book will provide you with relevant ammunition.

I wrote this book for both concertgoers and musicians. It’s not another “Mozart Effect.” I fully expect it to withstand scrutiny from composers, musicians, critics, and arts administrators. I don’t ask you to take my word for anything. I encourage you to test the veracity of my argument by reflecting upon your personal experience and seeking alternative explanations for the evidence that I present. I’m confident that it’s correct, however, and I believe that it offers some important clues about how we composers can strengthen our writing – regardless of style.

From the advent of notation to the present, music has, in fact, progressed and not merely changed. Our predecessors accrued principles over time that they intuitively found attractive – the avoidance of crossed voices, assignment of different timbres and articulations to different components of complex textures, and so forth. Empirical evidence from the field of psychology now tells us that these were genuine advances and not just matters of subjective preference.

The psychological principles that I rely upon for my argument are not at all speculative. They’ve been thoroughly tested and you can quite readily grasp their legitimacy by reflecting on personal experience. They don’t apply just to music or even just to sound. Nor are they cultural byproducts. They are universal principles of human perception. For example, the Gestalt perceptual principle of grouping by proximity reveals why crossed voices are weak and the principle of grouping by common fate reveals why contrary motion is “stronger” for aurally distinguishing lines than similar motion. The process that psychologists call “chunking” – the rhythmic grouping of information into units of short duration – explains why we build successively larger hierarchical structures from smaller phrases, and reveals that we can hold short ideas in the “perceptual present” and relate them to each other as we store them in short term memory, enhancing our ability to recall ideas for subsequent reflection and comparison.

In addition to showing some of the connections between historical innovations in composition and various psychological principles, I also draw some parallels between music and drama. To support this part of the argument, I define music as the use of sound to represent biological rhythm. Every component of a musical work reflects the rhythm of life in one way or another and the tendency to respond emotionally to music arises from the rhythmic aspect of various emotional states. In this portion of the book, I show that the rhythm of life is hierarchical – a fact that has led composers to extend and refine form – which I refer to as dramatic shape in order to emphasize its rhythmic function.

After laying out the basic evidence, I expose some major errors in modernist and postmodernist writing that have disrupted music's progress and recommend remedial action for restoring the mainstream literary tradition. The modern mistake involves an emphasis on novelty even at the cost of important principles of craft. The postmodern mistake involves an emphasis on political and economic issues rather than artistic merit. This is not a “tonal-versus-atonal” or “popular-versus-difficult” argument. I believe that the principles presented can be applied to strengthen writing in any style. By “mainstream literary tradition,” I mean the long-standing and proven process of studying the craft of our predecessors and then contributing to the ongoing discourse.

At this moment, there are two reviews of the book on the Amazon.com website – both by composers, both of whom gave it five stars. One of them, David Rubenstein of Herndon, Virginia wrote, “You will either love this book or hate it – there is no middle ground.” This is probably a legitimate assessment. I’ve touched upon the basic concepts of an entire book in fewer than 800 words here, which leaves much to the imagination. You can read the first chapter (“The Gist of It”) by visiting www.music-usa.org/soundbarrier. From there, you can also follow links to Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, and other sites to order it. Or you can order it from your local bookstore. The price is $14.95.

Peter Blauvelt
The latter half of 2002 saw a number of performances of Peter Blauvelt's music. On June 21, the 5th String Quartet finally got its premiere in St. Petersburg, FL, with the Tampa Bay Composers' Forum. Finally, because the piece dates to the early to mid 70's, and only became "the 5th" by being added to the other quartets later. After a quiet summer, 5 Studies for Clarinet was performed in Baton Rouge, LA, with NACUSA on October 13. A push came in November with a premiere of Elegy and Humoresque for Woodwind Trio with SCI in Memphis, TN, on the 2nd, a performance of 4 Quiet Piano Pieces in St. Petersburg, FL, with the Tampa Bay Composers' Forum on the 14th, and a premiere of the Serenade for Cello and Harp in Bulgaria on the 16th. The latter piece, slated for performance several times, finally broke the jinx that included being yanked from a program in Germany the day before the concert, because the organizer didn't want to pay the licensing fee. Many performers and concert organizers apparently think that compositions grow on trees, and that royalties or other kinds of monetary consideration are not due to the composer. They devise ever more creative ways to avoid paying licensing fees. The situation has come close to this: "If you want me to play it or present it, you don't report it. If you report it, I won't play it or present it." After encountering this remarkable attitude (found primarily outside of academia), and the empty concert halls, and the uncommitted or overburdened performers your pieces will likely encounter - do you still want to be a composer? Or does the music force you to write it down, regardless?