I think that a lot of the time composers run into this problem, which is to ask “what does it MEAAAN?” or “what is the composer trying to SAAY?” I know that right now I am facing this issue. Especially when writing vocal music or any “program music,” this question is only magnified because the text/narrative/programmatic element asks all the same questions in of itself. Then, as composers (listeners) we feel obligated to answer all of those questions through the process of writing (listening to) the music.
That’s not to say that music can’t serve any of the purposes above, and in fact some music is only effective in serving that purpose. Strip away the text of David Lang’s little match girl passion and you have a piece of music that is all too repetitive and somewhat meandering. Put the text back in and you have a ghastly Greek chorus that in a collection of sighs bemoans the death of a little girl on Christmas Eve.
Play a low-octave half step and try not to imagine an impending shark attack. Some music is only as powerful as it is because there is a very specific image or narrative along with it. So in this case, music’s purpose is to elevate the death of the little match girl to an exalted space, or to explain to the audience why we need a bigger boat.
The question, essentially, is “what is music’s purpose?” Of course, there’s probably thousands of answers to or discussions about this question, none of them right or wrong. But most of the time, people want to take a very micro view of what its purpose is. People want to listen to music as background noise, or they want music to tell a very specific and very literal story. How many times do you play something for someone and they say, “it was like…I was on a cloud…” or some other sort of ultra-specific and narrow narrative description of how the music made them feel? That’s all fine, of course, and if you like to put that imagery in your head than so be it, but it does limit the way you can listen to music. You certainly can’t be that specific with much classical music, because the mood and tone changes so frequently. If you were to try to apply the singular description of “being on a cloud” to a Christopher Rouse symphony (not that anyone would) you would limit the stream-of-consciousness sort of brain processes that are required to listen to that sort of music.
This is important for composers to grasp because music doesn’t have to be an elaborate story or dogmatic STATEMENT of some kind, it can just be a collection of thoughts in a moment. To get too caught up in what music is saying is to get too caught up in how people will react to your work, and what they will think after it’s over. It’s completely impossible to tell how people will react to your work, emotionally and otherwise. Something you may have planned out through months of charts and planning how the end of your Piano concerto will go, and it may sound perfect to you but kitsch to another person, underwhelming to one, and even more perfect to another. That combination of major and diatonic clusters you love to use will never sound legitimate to a scholar of serialism. Nixon in China (or any opera, for that matter) will always sound “weeeeird…” to someone who has only heard Taylor Swift.
While of course I’m no authority, and I certainly cant try to tell people how to listen to or write music, I do believe that music can just as effectively serve no purpose as it can serve a very specific one. Sometimes music is just a “window” to another time, place, way of thinking, emotion, thought, etc. Music can and should defy logic, and ask more questions than it answers. It should spark heated debate and loving camaraderie. If you loved the piece, what about it did you love? What about it reduced you to tears of joy in the third movement? What sort of space did the music bring you into? Are you completely questioning every decision you ever made because of this music? Were you impressed by the soloists? Did you hate it? What about the music did you not like? Why did you fall asleep? Would you have liked the piece more if you saw it performed live? Why did the piece make you think about the conflicted relationship you have with your grandmother? These are the kinds of questions I want music to ask me, and I don’t necessarily need to ever answer them.
N.B. Replace music with ALL ART OF ANY FORM