The Power of Music

A  Music is becoming ever more popular electronically. To meet our craving for music, internet sites are using increasingly sophisticated ways of putting us in touch with artists we may not even know we like. Most work by trawling our existing files or online listening habits and looking for patterns so they can recommend new artists for their subscribers to listen to. The search often turns up surprises. But is it possible to tease apart our likes and dislikes to identify precisely what it is about some music that thrills us or leaves us cold?

B  For centuries composers have sought to create unforgettable music using accepted notions about the emotional appeal of certain combinations of sounds, yet only now are scientists starting to uncover what it is about these combinations that can have such a dramatic effect on our minds. Given that archaeologists have found musical instruments played by Neanderthals at least 50,000 years ago, why have scientists taken so long to investigate such a source of pleasure?

C  "For psychologists, who are always desperate to show that their work is rigorous, there’s an image problem in tackling the emotionality of music," says Professor Norman Cook of Kansai University in Osaka, Japan, one of the pioneers of the new science of music. "Emotion is such a slippery topic." The other problem, says Cook, is the long-standing principle among psychologists that our response to music is an acquired one, rather than something that is stimulated by the effect of sound on our brain cells. Yet one of the first insights to emerge from this new branch of psychology is that music affects our brains at a very basic level.

D  Together with his colleague, Professor Takefumi Hayashi, Cook has been investigating one of the best-known examples of the emotional impact of music: the difference between major and minor chords. For centuries, composers have known that notes arranged to form major chords sound happy and upbeat, while those in minor chords sound mournful. In tests, even three-year-olds have been shown to link music in a major mode to happy faces and minor modes to sad faces.

E  According to Cook, analysis of how people respond to notes suggests a link with how our brains interpret certain sounds in everyday life. He points out that sad-sounding minor chords can be formed by raising the pitch of any of a set of notes, while dropping the pitch produces a major chord. The same change in pitch works as an emotional telltale in communication between some mammals, where rising pitch is used to communicate weakness or defeat, while falling pitch signals social dominance. It’s also present in our speech. "A rising inflection is used to denote questions, politeness or deference, whereas a falling inflection signals dominance," says Cook.

F  This suggests that music in major and minor modes taps into some very basic features of how we relate to the world and each other -- perhaps dating back millions of years. Could music in general be doing something similar? Quite possibly, according to research into how music triggers certain types of brain activity. At McGill University in Canada, Professor Robert Zatorre and his colleagues have carried out studies in which volunteers listen to different types of music while their brain activity is monitored. "The biggest surprise was the evidence that pleasurable music activates brain circuitry which has been in existence in the human brain for thousands of years," says Zatorre. "We share it with rats and other distant relatives on the evolutionary tree -- and it’s typically associated with biological rewards, like food, for example."

G  At the University of Oxford, Dr Joyce Chen has been looking into another celebrated feature of music -- the irresistibility of rhythm. Her interest was sparked by studies involving patients with movement difficulties. "If music that had a strong rhythm -- say, a marching band -- was played to these patients, they were able to improve their walking ability," says Chen. In an attempt to find out why the simple act of listening to music might help disabled patients, Dr Chen and colleagues from the International Laboratory for Brain, Music and Sound Research in Montreal carried out brain scans on volunteers who were listening to rhythmic sounds. The criteria for selecting these volunteers were that they should be in first-rate physical health but musically untrained. The results have been another revelation. Chen and her colleagues found the rhythms triggered activity in parts of the brain linked to hearing, but something even more surprising was that the rhythms also triggered activity in the motor regions of the brain, linked to active movement.

H  "Somehow, the mere act of just listening triggers motor-neural activity. Maybe this is one reason why we often tap our feet, move or dance when hearing music," says Chen. She believes the discovery of this deep connection between music and movement may cast light on why disabled patients can benefit from listening to music and could also prove useful with other impairments such as those involved in sound production. "It’s been shown that people who talk with a stutter might have problems in this auditory-motor loop."

I  For researchers working in this new area of science, these early discoveries hold the promise of much more to come. Zatorre and his colleagues are investigating whether some people have more musical brains than others. "We can see certain subtle brain features that can tell us how well somebody can do things like identify a slight change in a melody," explains Zatorre. "This ability could be enhanced by training -- just like someone born with a predisposition to building strong muscles can enhance them by taking up weightlifting."

200 Years of Australian Landscapes at the Royal Academy in London

This exhibition promises to chart the evolution of a nation through its art, but not everyone agrees with the reasons behind the choice of artwork.

For the casual viewer, the exhibition of landscapes, Australia, selected by the Royal Academy of Art, will be a spectacular guide through Australian art history. Included in the exhibition are a range of artists and styles, dating from the earliest days of colonial art and progressing through expressionism and modernism to the greats of the 20th century, culminating with the current generation of Australian artists. It is hardly surprising, then, that this results in a flexible, wide-ranging notion of landscape.

But this landmark exhibition gives rise to some questions, and perhaps problems, regarding Britain’s relationship with its former colony. By choosing a style of painting at which British artists excel, the Academy could be seen as inviting criticism that hints at a telling attitude towards Australian art by comparison. But it is the very theme of landscape that provides the strongest connection to Australian art from Britain. To consider it condescending is perhaps too strong, but for Joanna Mendelssohn, an Australian critic and Associate Professor at the University of NSW’s College of Fine Arts (COFA), there is a suggestion that British artistic values have directed this exhibition, rather than allowing Australia the freedom to demonstrate its maturity.

What Mendelssohn found surprising about this exhibition was that the underlying rules for the selection of works seemed to have been so conservative. Since the landscape is a very strong British artistic theme, it appeared to her that when the British looked to the art of a former colony, there was a tendency for them to think that those colonies would continue to be like the British themselves. In reviewing Australia, the British insisted on looking at the genre of landscape painting.

Because of colonial ties, it was inevitable during Australian art’s formative years that it would reflect Britain’s devotion to the beloved landscape before its own character and idiosyncrasies took shape. And while Mendelssohn’s concern over the exhibition’s conventional selection is valid, the Academy is nevertheless embracing the peculiarities of Australian art from the mid-19th century onward, albeit within the boundaries of landscape.

Australia is curated by Kathleen Soriano, director of exhibitions at the Royal Academy. "Certainly the influence of English, French, or German art is much more evident in the early periods, in the early 1800s to mid-1800s," she says. "What I wanted to show was how Australian art develops a real distinctiveness, associated with the landscape and the light."

The fusion of tradition of the European kind with something more specifically Australian, and often personal, is crucial to the exhibition, and extends particularly to some of the more contemporary artists involved. Sydney-born video artist Shaun Gladwell is a good example of this. Gladwell’s most famous piece, which is featured in the exhibition, is Storm Sequence (2000), a video of Gladwell skateboarding on the Bondi seafront as one of Sydney’s signature brutal storms lingers offshore. It is his acknowledgment of landscape (or seascape) tradition, colored by Gladwell’s own individualism. ‘To exhibit my work in this show might make some sense because I was interested in Turner and the idea of atmosphere affecting vision, something I was really interested in around the time of Storm Sequence. I was thinking about this tradition of Romantic landscape, but I wanted to make it personal,’ says Gladwell. But he didn’t want to just embark on borrowing imagery from elsewhere. He wanted to bring it to his experience and his world through skateboarding and beach culture.

So while it may seem narrow for Britain to reduce Australian art to the genre of landscape, there can be little denying that British landscape painting is still relevant to a current generation of Australian practitioners, however indirectly.

Visitors to the exhibition encounter Australian Aboriginal art first, the idea being that these works warrant a prominent position because they were ‘first’. Over the last couple of decades, London has hosted many successful exhibitions of Aboriginal art in smaller spaces, but for Soriano, Australia represents an opportunity to place such art in a broader context, with new relationships to the art of the settlers and white Australia. ‘One of the reasons landscape makes sense as being the right theme was because Aboriginal art started in and on the landscape,’ she says. ‘[The exhibition] is a beautiful meshing of the two different kinds of art, that allowed me to bring them together comfortably and honestly within this theme. It was important for me to present Indigenous art to audiences, and I felt it was most authentic that it was seen as part of Australian art history, rather than a separate area with a world of its own.’

Meanwhile, Australian critic Mendelssohn also points out that London is increasingly less important to today’s generation of artists, and this somewhat weakens the ceremony surrounding the exhibition in London. ‘China is the most important art market in the world,’ she says. ‘If you’ve made it in Shanghai, you’ve made it. The world has changed. My students in Australia, who come from all over the world, really want to see Venice Biennale and Art Basel, but they’re less interested in going to London. When I was growing up, London was the destination, and then when I was at university all the smart young things wanted to go to New York,’ she added. ‘Now they want to go everywhere. There’s no such thing as the centre and the periphery like there used to be. It’s much more complicated.’