Classical Music Over the Centuries

A The production of any great art form, and classical music is no exception, does not usually occur in a society dominated by the basic material demands of food and shelter. Art and music have flourished in those periods of history, and those parts of society, in which the luxury of free time and material wealth has allowed such a culture to take precedence over more material matters. In the medieval European world, it was thus primarily in the closed communities of the church and monastery, and royal courts that music, literature and learning were able to flourish.

B It was not until the 18th century that this situation changed to any great extent, and the rise of an economically independent middle class meant that concert-going became a public activity for anyone who cared to buy a ticket. It is worth remembering that the idea of classical music widely accepted today did not exist until about 300 years ago. Performing music in concert halls for a paying audience, as something inherently pleasurable and significant, was pretty much unheard of until the 18th century, and not widely established until the 19th. The concert venue, the audience, and the idea of "masterpieces" of classical music, were all effectively invented during the course of the 18th century--in London, Paris, Vienna, Berlin and other European cities where the arts in general were blossoming.

C Today, music that was originally written for a concert venue may appear, out of its original context, in an advert or film. Conversely, music written specifically for films is sometimes performed live. But nothing has changed music over the last century more radically than the invention and dissemination of recording technologies. However, although Thomas Edison originally developed the phonograph in 1877, and wax cylinders were used as early as 1880s for recording music, commercial recordings of music were not generally available to the majority until 1920s. From the mid-1980s onwards, the vinyl disc gradually gave way to the new technology of the CD, but just a decade later, the digital MP3 file was already displacing the CD as the favoured way to produce recorded music. Yet now, people have more music stored on their phones or computers--which they can call up with the touch of a finger--than would have been contained on all the metres of library shelves of a proud ‘record collector’ of the 20th century.

D Before recording, music was a social event--it involved one or more people coming together to make music. The music lasted for as long as the musicians sang or played and then it was over. Therefore, the only music that people heard tended to be compositions by recent or living musicians, probably working in the locality; it was rare to hear music from a past generation, distant place or culture. Even when music became professionalized, people who wanted to listen to music went to a specific venue, at a specific time, to hear musicians create a one-off event.

E These days, however, technology makes almost all the world’s music instantly and constantly available to anyone with access to simple and cheap gadgets designed for playing it. Music thus floats free of any specific occasion or venue. It is no longer restricted to a particular audience or group of musicians. For the first time, music (any music) can be an entirely personal affair. This is one of the reasons that the ‘classical’ label becomes harder to pin down. One of its distinctive aspects--a performance defined by concert halls and opera houses--is dissolved by digital recording formats. As a consequence, all music, classical music included, can become any person’s soundtrack for activities such as commuting, exercising or shopping.

F The ubiquity of music as recorded sound means that it’s very easy to overlook perhaps the most definitive aspect of the classical music tradition--the fact that it is a written or notated music. Though classical music may lack a precise definition today and mean quite different things to different people, at its heart is the idea of a music that has remained viable over the years because it was written down in some form. The origin of what music historians think of as classical music dates from the ninth century, when a system of musical notation was first developed. Before this time, singers in religious services in cathedrals or monasteries had to learn by heart a huge repertory of chants. The first attempts to notate music were intended to help them remember these. Over the next thousand years, notation became more complex, incorporating such aspects as rhythm and pitch, allowing composers to rework and refine their musical ideas. Put very simply, the history of classical music, in all its varied forms, is the history of a tradition that grew out of the possibilities of musical notation.

Mapping the Mind

Dr Simon Hanson reviews Rita Carter’s book Mapping the Mind

The often-used phrase "I’ll believe it when I see it" betrays a very intimate fact of human nature. We are visual creatures and we rely on sight to serve as a judge of what is real and what is not. When discussing the intricacies of the human mind, for most of society’s existence things have not been visible; we have for the most part relied on intangible concepts, metaphors, and words to explore our inner psyche. I have no idea what my ego looks like. I must have one because it can be hurt or appeased by how others treat me. But how do I know it really exists? Recent progress in brain research and neuroimaging are changing all of this. With our modern technology of functional imaging, we can now look at the brain as it is working, and attribute activation in certain areas of the brain to behaviours, thoughts, and feelings. In essence, our new tools are prompting new thoughts on who we are and how we are organized. Rita Carter’s book, Mapping the Mind, explores these issues and exploits science’s ability to look into our heads as a tool to examine who we are.

In its most basic form, Carter’s book serves as a very accessible introduction to the subject of neuroanatomy, a subject most of us would not appreciate fully without investing in a semester of medical school. Mapping the Mind uses beautifully rendered three-dimensional computer images of the brain to explain anatomical structures and pathways. The presentation style acknowledges our natural bias towards perceiving and learning information visually. Presenting the concept of a brain area devoted to maintaining attention by calling it the "anterior cingulate cortex" would probably put most readers to sleep while their brains struggled to use that area to focus on what the name meant. Showing the reader a three-dimensional-oriented area that easily translates to a place we can point to on our skulls grounds the anatomical vocabulary in something we can all understand--our own heads.

In spite of the title, however, the book is not an exact map or a reference guide. Its chapters cover concepts such as perception, emotions, memory, and higher consciousness, and are best read rather than referenced. The book, beautifully accented with brain-oriented artwork of both pure aesthetic and illustrative value, walks a pleasing line between college textbook and coffee table art book, describing the subtle nuances of vision, language, thought, and feeling with science and art.

While the art requires no explanations, Carter uses her background as a journalist to keep the reader engaged in the science. Factual support in the form of documented cases is liberally employed to show the abstract concepts in recognizable behaviors and consequences we can all relate to. For example, in describing brain circuitry involved in controlling anger, Carter uses familiar situations, like suppressing anger when we feel we have been insulted, to illustrate the neuroscience involved. She follows with a discussion of children’s emotional maturity, pointing out that in children the areas involved in inhibition of anger are not as well developed as in adults, providing an explanation for the tantrums of a six-year-old. Carter presents the science in an engaging yet factual manner, allowing people to draw their own conclusions and connect the dots between scientific discovery and what it means in our daily lives.

By presenting neuroscience in this manner, Mapping the Mind seems to aim itself at an audience that is often forgotten: the general reader who wants to know more about a specific area of scientific study. From a scientific perspective, danger often lurks when writing for a general audience as scientific credibility can be sacrificed in order to keep readers engaged. Carter circumvents this problem by including the participation of research specialists in the writing. The book is littered with short directed essays written by specialists in specific areas of brain research.

One of my favorite features of the book is the optical illusions. As a teacher, I am always searching for ways to make information relevant to the reader. Mapping the Mind does this by peppering appropriate chapters with optical illusions that illustrate how the brain processes information. These delicious enigmas do not stand alone as supplementary information or unrelated facts but are accompanied by textual explanations and insights into what causes the perceptual incongruities. I found many of these explanations so good at conveying basic brain principles that I borrowed some of them for use in lectures.

In a unique place in history, we can, at present, use our newly developed neuroimaging in combination with the tools of science to examine our own minds at work. Our journey is to try and figure out who we are. Rather than providing us with an academic textbook, Mapping the Mind serves as a sort of kiosk map saying you are here with a big red dot. Mapping the Mind shows us where we are by giving us a snapshot of how we work. There are many books out there that explain the mind. The unique perspective of this book is that it uses the brain itself to guide the journey.