I learned about Carlin’s new never-to-be-captured-on-HBO routine in a wonderful interview piece by Jay Dixit for the Psychology Today blog done just nine days before Carlin’s death.

There it is, right at the end of the interview:

Dixit: So the last question is: What are you working on now?

Carlin: I have a piece of material that I’m doing on stage these days. I’m in Las Vegas now. I do weekends here, I do four nights on weekends as part of my year of touring. I go mostly to concert halls and theaters, around 80 or 90 of ‘em a year. But I come down here around three or four. So I’m down here. This piece of material called, “There’s Too Much Fucking Music,” which is my way of looking at… how much music there is, I guess. It’s just my way of looking at the world and saying something that people don’t notice and figuring out a new way. And it’s filled with exaggeration and stuff. I’m doing that on stage a little bit. I’m not giving myself any pressure.”

O Irony of ironies for amateurmusicians.net! Carlin’s “new routine” successfully captures a perspective I’ve long been trying to articulate through this blog, in a single sentence:

There’s just too much music goin’ around these days!

on training to be an artist a human

The Dixit interview is valuable for many reasons - not the least being its blessed good timing, days before Carlin’s death. For me though, it especially stands out as an example of the rich results you can get from a well-prepared Q&A, conducted with someone you truly admire.

Kinda like a good Playboy interview, minus the pompous titties.

The essential lessons I got from this Carlin interview:

1. what his working methods were
2. his concept of the comedian
3. how method and mission inform one another

On Carlin’s concept of the comedian: a jester should always aim to be a court jester. A comedian should speak directly to power. A comedian should take risks. Reputation risks are therefore the holy grail of the comedian-cum-social-commentator.

With this in mind, we see that training to be a comedian is not simply a matter of coming up with good jokes. Rather, it’s about cultivating a point of view on the world, life, on absolutely everything, and doing so with courage. Thanks to Carlin therefore, I now understand that comedy is one of the many “genres” of human knowledge, one which leverages the “strategy of surprise” to teach important insights.

My own fave approach to obtaining insight is through cultivating paradox. In case you hadn’t already guessed.

So what did George Carlin do all these years, behind the scenes? He trained himself to be perceptive, as a life-long occupation. Indeed, the Dixit interview reveals that Carlin had a process for training his observational sense, a process he refined (and upgraded) over the course of his 50 years in the field of entertainment.

This attitude seems to me to be the psychological and spiritual key to the committed artist, whether amateur or professional. Without which you spend your life swimming in other people’s soundtracks.

where’s George?

All said and done, we certainly haven’t finished hearing from George Carlin. Therefore let this post be a message-in-a-bottle for all you Carlin fanatics out there: if you should ever come across a recorded version of the above-mentioned routine - text, audio, video - please forward me a copy! Or post it on Youtube!

With Carlin’s wise (and blunt) words, I suspect we’ll once again remember why we created the “off” button, and why we’re so afraid to use it.

Person George Carlin

Right click for SmartMenu shortcuts

• How people like to find enjoyment in simple things (especially when they are outdoors and the weather’s nice). They were playing the same rhythmic pattern when I came back down!
• Being musical means, at the very least, that you must have some sense of rhythm. The perennially popular tam-tam events in Montreal are proof that music can do quite well without melody, thank you.

As for me, it’s the enjoyment part that really stuck, and led me to consider again looking at music in its simplest manifestations to better understand it.

musicians like simple english

Back on-line, I have a look at the basic definition of ‘music’ up on the Simple English Wikipedia. The current ’sticky’ definition (as of midnight, June 26, 2008) is the following:

Music is an art that puts sounds together in a way that people like or find interesting. [...]

Music is sound that has been organized and made on purpose. If someone bangs saucepans while cooking, it makes noise. If a person banged saucepans or pots in a deliberate way (on purpose), they are making a simple type of music.

Though I wouldn’t strictly limit my definition of music to an art, the first sentence is a little hard to improve upon. At first, the words “like” and “interesting” seem kinda lukewarm. I’m tempted to change to:

Music is an art that puts sounds together in a way that people enjoy or find meaningful.

But actually the word “interesting” here has its merits. It is more encompassing in terms of possible reactions to music, and by placing emphasis on music’s attention-getting capacity it reminds us that music is essentially an art of “intentionally produced patterns”.

Caught by the human ear.

sounds made on porpoises

The second sentence, however, has a flaw which I addressed in a previous post:

Music is sound that has been organized and made on purpose. If someone bangs saucepans while cooking, it makes noise. If a person banged saucepans or pots in a deliberate way (on purpose), they are making a simple type of music.

If you read that post, you may recall that I took issue with the scope of this statement, that “sounds made on purpose” didn’t properly circumscribe the art of music within the general topic of aural communication. In fact, what’s missing from the example is a description of the type of organization you give to sound to “make a simple type of music”.

If you’re banging on saucepans to make music, chances are you are organizing sound rhythmically. Just like those fellows up on the mountain this morning.

trying to keep it simple. honest.

Seeing the issue more clearly, I’m going to jump in Simple English Wikipedia and add my own two cents. Here we go.

In my view, music is:

• making or organizing sound following rhythmic, melodic (and sometimes harmonic) ideas or patterns, for the purpose of expression and enjoyment.

My modifications, therefore, to the existing entry:

Music is sound that has been organized using rhythm, melody or harmony. If someone bangs saucepans while cooking, it makes noise. If a person banged saucepans or pots in a rhythmic way, they are making a simple type of music.

Let’s see how long my modifications stay up as is

still not convinced…

Overall, I find this activity of defining music to be challenging. Why is it so complicated for musicians to summarize their occupation using general language?

Here’s my theory.

1. We’re too close to it. Try describing the object of your love to someone who hasn’t met him/her, and you’ll see what I mean.
2. From my experience, the focused activity of music making is one where all senses are heightened and engaged. Music provokes altered states of consciousness. Logic no welcome hear.
3. Last but not least: our definition of music varies with our experience and knowledge of it. A folk singer might put self-expression at the center of her definition. A filmmaker might think of music as a way to communicate inner states and moods. An artist might see music as an opportunity to get an audience to pay attention to sounds in their environment. In other words: as purposes differ, so do definitions.

To summarize: it seems that the main challenge in coming up with a good, catch-all definition is that music is many specific things to different people, and that it’s hard to stand outside of something that’s so deeply part of ourselves, even if we’re not a “music lover”.

Or is it just me? Be happy to know your definitions of music. Here, or at the Simple English Wikipedia.

Back in the 20th century, some clever people in the artistic avant-garde proved that you could “reinvent the wheel” of an artistic tradition by pulling off a few well-publicized stunts, while some important critic provided theoretical exegesis to help the audience swallow the pill.

And if the audience got hot under the collar, the critic could always pull out a protective amulet for his artist-as-gadfly, in the form of a magic word: iconoclast!

Iconoclast! That’s the guy who breaks the rulez!

Art as theology

Sure enough, look long enough into the iconoclast game of Modern Art and you’ll begin to see the man behind the curtain.

To anybody who’s followed the various avant-garde movements in modern art, it becomes clear at some point that the game is rigged, and that the art critic is doing the rigging. After all, if you upset the apple cart on a regular-enough basis, who’s going to help people make sense of what’s going on?

Surely not the artist.

To demonstrate this sweeping assertion, I’ll share with you my all-time favorite Monty Python sketch: John Cage’s 4′33” at Barbican Hall, filmed live on BBC Four. Possibly the loudest, most vivid display of Modern Art Theology known to mankind!

Instructions: just press play. Don’t fast forward. Endure this. Just once, please!

Do it for me.

seriously, though

Perhaps the biggest joke about the avant-garde is that critics have persuaded audiences time and again to take its pranks as formal seriousness.

But just so we can live in interesting times again: shouldn’t we also tell the critics the avant-garde emperor wears no clothes?

Indeed, for 4′33″ to be given a commemorative performance shows that the court jester meant no harm to the king, after all. The most telling moment for me: the audience is coughing between “movements”! The stifled atmosphere of the concert hall at its best!

agent provocateurs can be artists, too

Like a lot of the avant-garde, John Cage is famous for getting into the fight club of Hallowed Tradition to “make a point”. To me, he’s the equivalent of Marcel Duchamp and his urinal: just making sure there’s an air of ironic self-awareness wafting through art and music school lavatories.

That said, Cage seems to me more of an agent provocateur than his chess-playing mentor. At least at a deeper cultural level. Cage went further than Duchamp with the idea of playfulness and improvisation in art.

Further? Cage went fully (Zen) Buddhist. He sought to remove human agency (or “intention”, as he put it) from the creative process altogether. He wanted the universe to compose his compositions, and taught audiences sit around and simply pay attention to… to… to whatever was at hand.

‘Cause human creative tampering just messes things up with motives.

In other words, Cage’s 4′33” may be a famous stunt to some, but I’d argue that his “philosophy of creativity” has had a more enduring impact on contemporary audiences.

By making music into pure form, removing human motive, agency, intention - with his “aleatoric music” and “chance operations” - Cage would pave the way for the stochastic processes of algorithmic and computer-generating music. Thus, in a fundamental way, “processes of music” under Cage can be said to have distanced themselves from the human body.

Music could now aspire to be completely disincarnate.

And how does the body react to this? How long can we play the “interpret the concert-hall silence” game, until the (very repressed) body steps in and makes itself heard?

Cage has a point

Of course, there is a basic point to 4′33”: silence is an intrinsic part of music. Or to use the language of Gestalt psychology: silence is the assumed “ground” to the “figure” of musical awareness.

And my point is that the subliminal message of 4′33” goes even deeper: the concert-hall is more hallowed than a religious temple. It requires total bodily control, and obedience.

Got it. Got it all. Not my religion. So, can we forget Cage’s gambit now? Or at least honor his contributions… in the field of cybernetics?

Person John Cage

Right click for SmartMenu shortcuts

Favorite? Well, in the realm of learning I’m a sucker for clear explanations, using the simplest of terms. As a workshop facilitator at the N.F.B. in Montreal, it’s my job to find the best ways to explain stuff to youth audiences (film animation, for example). And simple always gets the best results, in terms of understanding and excitement generated for the subject at hand.

That said, if you’ve ever taught some basic concepts or skills to someone, you know that making things simple and clear… isn’t all that simple.

Take our favorite subject: music. As soon as I head over to the music department of the S.E.W., I get hit by a juicy paradox.

Damn it’s hard to define music

I don’t mean describe music. Most definitions of music actually describe music, and pretty well at that. For example, here’s what the S.E.W. lay savants have to say about music:

Music is an art that puts sounds together in a way that people like or find interesting. Most music includes people singing with their voices or playing musical instruments, such as the piano, guitar, or drums. [...]

Music is sound that has been organized and made on purpose. If someone bangs saucepans while cooking, it makes noise. If a person banged saucepans or pots in a deliberate way (on purpose), they are making a simple type of music. Blues music was a music that was played by singing, using the harmonica, or the acoustic guitar. Jazz musicians used instruments such as the trumpet, saxophone.

Music started many thousands of years ago. When early people first banged pieces of wood together and enjoyed the sound, they were discovering music. Early people also discovered that when they cut off the horns of animals they had killed and blew through them, they could make interesting sounds. People also blew into conch shells and made sounds that they liked. They probably started to sing or shout in celebration. (italics mine)

This is actually a pretty good definition overall, especially in terms of speculating over the discovery of music. Except there’s one pitfall. It assumes that organized sounds made on purpose - or even merely interesting sounds made on purpose - can be called “music”.

Does this make Morse code an example of music? How about shouting at a clerk in a supermarket? (Hmm… see next section…)

Yep, the purpose part of making sounds hasn’t been clarified in this definition.

Most music theory avoids this “deliberate-sound definition pitfall” by immediately calling to attention the elements of music - melody, rhythm, harmony - and by looking at the historical/evolutionary development each of these elements.

The end result of this approach is that it has produced a very rich understanding of the development of music genres (my favorite example is the UK Channel 4 series How Music Works, hosted by Howard Goodall). But not as much about the purpose of music.

psychology lab

In the 20th century, an experimentalist tradition rose in Western music to reopen the questions of music’s inherent ambiguity. This tradition decided that composing and performing music wasn’t sufficient in itself to fully realize music’s aspirations. Instead, it sought to probe music as an open-ended experiment in human psychology and perception.

Overall a good move. Only thing: the basic stance of most experimentalists was polemical - whether a modernist composer seeking to break conventions, or avant-garde musicians wanting to go free - and stay free all the time. In other words, “experimental” and “avant-garde” music today is widely seen as a rejection of - or rebellion against - “mainstream” music. This has meant that it has carved out its niche on the basis of people accepting or rejecting its “anti-establishment” stance.

Which means that the original questions on the nature and meaning of music kinda got lost during the process of bickering about the rules.

My own feeling is this: if the experimentalists did accomplish one thing, it was to test the assumptions that everyone had been holding for so long about what is music, and what isn’t music. It did this by taking what was considered culturally as noise, and by demonstrating it could be “music”, too.

How? By staging a noise event in a concert venue.

back to the beholder?

So far, we’ve seen that attempts to define music in the details has led to more argument than insight. So why is it so hard to define the human cultural phenomenon of music?

Here’s my hunch. At root, music is a subjective phenomenon.

In other words, in our attempts to define music we’ve too long paid attention to the object of interest/contemplation - the art of music - and not enough on mind/body of the composer, the performer and especially the listener.

Yet the more I look into it, the more music seems to belong to the the “beholder” part of beauty (i.e. “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”).

One good example of this is that everyone has a fairly clear idea of what music is - and what music isn’t - for him/her.

“This stuff is music to my ears… This other stuff is just noise, crap!”

try this!

Here’s an exercise: on a blank sheet of paper, draw a vertical line to create two columns. Title one column “music”, and the other “not music”. Then start to fill in with examples.

See if you can avoid putting music you really hate in the “not music” column

This exercise might not tell you that much about music, but at least you’ll have a profile of your tastes. For bigger kicks, try this exercise with friends.

Or family, yeow!

a fresh start

Beyond personal and critical debates, I feel that this difficulty of defining music should be taken as an important clue to revise our method of looking at things. Today, in a world awash with music, more than ever we need to look at why we invented music and continue to reinvent it.

My two cents: as previously stated, Philip Dorell’s arguments about “human musicality” might be the right place to gain a fresh perspective in our efforts to understand this elusive phenomenon.

So if you don’t mind, follow me back to square one. Humans, with instruments, making noise on purpose.

Person Howard Goodall

Right click for SmartMenu shortcuts

The workshop? Listening to Experimental Music, presented by Anna-Luisa Daigneault. Here’s the write-up:

What does listening to music do to the brain? Why does certain music sound “pretty” and other music doesn’t?

We will be listening to many kinds of contemporary experimental music from all over the world, and discussing how this music makes us feel and think of.

Experimental music. Art music. Ancient folkways. Freeform music. I’ve often heard people ask: “why bother listening to music like this”?

That is: why listen to music that seems to be “unpleasant” and “unintelligible” by design? Isn’t the role of music to uplift the human spirit, to express emotions, to provide solace in a world of stress and uncertainty. In brief: to be beautiful and… recognizable? Kinda like the human face, in all its varieties of aesthetic (un)appeal?

Turns out there’s a rotten old cliché to sum up this controversy: beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And as the workshop theme proposes: beyond the merely beautiful, can music also be a way of probing the lesser-charted areas of the human psyche, as a “spiritual” language unto its own?

Perhaps in this sense the label “experimental” is actually useful and descriptive: the “use of” music for psychological exploration. I say this because the term “experimental” in the art world has always seemed a wide open definition to me. For example, you’ll hear “experimental” as a way of invoking:

• “non-conventional” music, or music that “plays with musical conventions”
• “non-mainstream”music
• experiments in artistic form
• freeform/free improvisation
• technical experimentations

All these ideas typically point to revolutions and experiments in form. To me this position ultimately leads to an infinite regress, as form is constantly evolving in any musical tradition. So in the end I’ve come to see most stances of “formal experimentation” as being academic in value.

And that’s my preamble. Indeed, I came to the workshop curious about what musical selections would be on the “experimental” play list. And esp. what issues would be open for discussion.

your workshop is your passion

As is often the case in ad-hoc educational formats, workshop offerings depend on the available expertise of a given community. Quirky workshops topics exist by virtue of an individual’s passion for a given subject, so attending a workshop means… getting to know someone’s passion.

Turns out Anna-Luisa’s passion for “experimental music” was both genuine and lots of fun. Anna-Luisa’s academic background is in linguistics (with a side serving of neuropsychology). Her artistic ambitions though seem pretty wide ranging, and she’s given strong consideration to her speculative questions on the nature and meaning of musical experience over the course of years of studying, performing, and especially listening to music.

Workshop highlights:

• how to research music, off the beaten path
• what are the most compelling questions one can ask of music
• music, language and the brain
• the human breathing and vocal apparatus, and pitch overtones. great Tibetan throat chant demo by workshop participant Marc Matatya!
• the philosophy of music
• listening to crazy stuff!

listening eclectically…

Here’s the workshop playlist (with a few mp3 samples).

Mansthurek - Oorjak Hunashtaar-Ool
(sample)

Na Letnye Pastbishtsha - Kara-Kys Munzuk

Stage Fright - Carl Stalling
(sample)

(2 selections) - Moondog

(2 selections) - Sun Ra and his Archestra

Diana - Comus

Parable of the Mustard Seed - The Trees
(sample)

beauty, for the mind unhinged

Reviewing the eclectic selections, the shared trait seems to be, from the point of view of conventional listener expectations: music that “unhinges the mind”, inducing altered states of consciousness.

In closing, for all your brain and soul spelunkers, I’d like to list Anna-Luisa’s research muses for further consideration:

• religious mode of language, or the poetics of ritual speech
• chanting, song, ritual, using a comparative cultural approach
• trance-inducing music and speech
• what is musical inspiration? where does it “come from”?
• poetry and sound
• voice and “possession”
• experiments in musical pitch: extreme musical intervals

It didn’t take long before I fell into of a frenzy of speculation (this happen when you think too much). I was playing music, now writing about it. But the more I played and wrote, the more it dawned on me I didn’t have a very strong grasp of “music” to begin with!

So I set out on a magical mystery quest, with my big question: “what is music”? And where does every magical mystery quest take you, in the end?

Ancient Egypt, of course.

So here I am, in front that sphinx - mysterious old Music. I ask: “Music, what art thou?” (you have to sound Elizabethan or the sphinx won’t even hear you).

Seeing no response, I tickle it under the paw: “Sphinx, why are we humans musical?”

Getting the same mute response, I decide to go to the Google Gods (right under the Cheops Pyramid) and throw my flippin’ keywords into their oracular search sandbox.

The best answer I come up with? This website on “music science” by a fellow named Philip Dorrell. I even wrote a blog post about it.

an itch you just can’t scratch?

All fine and well, but reading Dorrell just leaves me with more questions than answers. I’m a child of the age: I want answers! Right now (pant, pant)!

At some point, I start to get it: every magical mystery search worth its salt must have dead ends and fruitless avenues. Perhaps I have gone about it the wrong way all along.

Perhaps I should have not gone to the sandbox at all, but instead looked at the Sphinx.

the twist, the twist!!

So instead of Google, I go to YouTube (Oy vey, Gilles, YouTube is owned by Google…Hello!)

Lookie here. There’s a cat on the ‘tube, pretty famous, one of the most gifted denizens of the internet: Nora the Cat.

When you look at the Sphinx, what do you see? A giant feline! Nora, my sphinx!

So you’ve watched the video (and the second installment!), and resumed reading once the adrenalin rush of giddy discovery has subsided.

Bet you forgot the question that started it all (I did!)?

Think of Nora. What is Nora’s gift, evident to all? A “musical sense”? The discovery of pitch? An association of pleasure with certain sounds?

Indeed, it’s tempting to take the “behaviorist” route and explain Nora away with the pain-pleasure conditioned-reflex response. But watching her ears perk up as notes resound, I’m not so sure myself.

Nora seems a rather mystical cat. She’s got feel.

of cats and men

To be sure, Nora’s special gift raises more questions than answers, too. About cats. And humans.

Again, perhaps the answers we seek lie “hidden in plain view”. After all, how did the Ancient Egyptians portray the sphinx? A cat with a human head. What does that say about musicians?

‘Nuff said.

This blog figures in my accomplishments list. And though in many ways I don’t really qualify as a true blogger (I don’t post with enough regularity), underneath it all I try to keep a consistent approach.

“And what consistency might that be, Mr. Eclectica”? you ask.

Well, I’d say it’s an underlying ethic. I’m only motivated to research, write and post when I’ve got some insight to share. So this blog is definitely not a news or current events blog.

I’m also motivated by a sense of mission. Which goes like this:

WHEN YOU’RE TIRED OF THE COSTUME PARTY…

What I’m advocating through my writing, at bottom, can be best described as “sensibility training through learning a musical instrument“.

The idea is very simple. I’m reminded of it everytime I watch a YouTube clip of Bill O’Reilly - or any other traumatized (and traumatizing) war-monger.

What does the world need more of? Sensible People (and if that sounds too Brit-snotty to you: Perceptive People).

I start from a premise of basic perceptual awareness:

Q - What happens when your communication environment saturates your senses all day (and night) long?

A - My hunch: you become numb and your senses “close off”. Your receptiveness to new experiences atrophies.

Paradoxically, in this environment you need more and more intense stimulus to even feel alive, and to know who you are. “Culture” is therefore experienced as a closed loop of identity consumption and various forms of media addiction.

That’s what I mean by “the costume party”.

look at me! I’m worth loving, too!

Important to the amateurmusicians.net approach: I offer this concept of “sensibility training” in contrast to the more common motive of “getting the attention I need by putting on a musical act”.

This is not out of some higher-than-thou moral qualm, but because the attention-seeking ethic runs counter to the process of sensibility training to begin with.

It’s basic psychology, really.

Though self-expression is one of the key values of sensibility training, it’s narrow self-expression - or narcissism - that still dominates the airwaves today, a sure sign of our culture’s deep habit of sensory closure.

In contrast: what does it mean to seriously devote time and energy to learning a musical instrument, and a specific repertoire/genre? What is this learning doing for the learner?

open vs. closed

In terms of training, you may be wondering if there’s a distinction to be made between “sensibility” and “sensitivity”.

There is, unequivocally.

“Sensitivity training” refers to workplace initiatives that “help” employees learn the habits of thinking and doublespeak mandated by political correctness, to disallow “out of place” private judgment in a public context.

The habit that is learned at root is self-censorship. Which is what a lot of “sensible people” learn to do at a young age, thanks to “good rearing” and public education.

In opposition to this well-intentioned but insidious dogma, sensibility training is about getting people to gain self-knowledge - and knowledge about the world - by using rich, open and expressive means of communication.

Literally, sensibility training means: training the senses, learning a culture of the senses.

With regards to learning music, this means specifically: the process of painstakingly learning an instrument, and choosing a repertoire. The key skills and attitudes are: active listening and comparative musical analysis.

To obtain good results, a multi-genre and multi-disciplinary approach is key. Why?

As a musician, if you dedicate yourself to only one genre/style, you are reinforcing:

1. a tribal identity
2. a marketing category

As a learner, if you follow only one set of learning methods for each music style, you are reinforcing:

1. a fundamentalist attitude for one method over another
2. dependence over autonomy and self-direction

and before your attention drifts to that girl wearing a tight yellow t-shirt

Needless to say, there is a lot more to say on this topic, and this post should only be seen as a reminder of the basic motive for this blog.

In the final analysis: the discussion that needs to happen is on the significant role that a serious musician can play in today’s world, beyond cultural diversion.

That role to me is, in a nutshell: sensibility training. For both the musician and his/her audience.

I include it here because of the sheer contrast between this delicate performance, and the visual chaos of his heavily-annotated score featured in my previous post.

Beyond that, Gould’s performance here has the same effect on me as some of the melancholy textures in Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, with an added vulnerability that is really quite beautiful.

Like a broken-hearted Satie playing the music of Bach on a lonely winter day.

Btw, please don’t take the “take 844″ quip in my post title literally. I believe this recording was done in a few takes, but certainly not 844! It’s just my way of saying that Gould had played this piece many times over throughout his life…

That is, if horrible handwriting is an indicator of genius, my brilliance far outshines my shadow.

“Ah but, if this is true, then every doctor must be a genius too”, you say (of course, no self-respecting M.D. would dare write a legible drug prescription. That frisson of potential medical malpractice suits is so addictive!).

Anyways, I got this important clue about my unacknowledged semi-godhood from a display at the new Glenn Gould exhibition at the Museum of Civilization in Ottawa last week.

Here are pics of sheet music samples of the Goldberg Variations on display, covered - no, smeared! - with Gould’s prolix handwritten indications. A Glenn Gould coloring book, so to speak

What’s fascinating to me:

• Not only are the notes themselves unintelligible (or Gould-only-intelligible), but there’s so much scribbling that the music itself is unreadable!
• Lots of numbers and codes. Perhaps details about metre, finger positioning, track number. Dunno.
• Use of red for highlighting information.

Possible interpretations:

1. The note-making process is a key part of how Gould learns the mechanics of a piece (finger-placement, etc.).
2. Score annotation is an essential part of the memorization process (what some music teachers call “cementing”). When viewing a video clip at the Ottawa exhibit, I saw Gould in interaction with a producer, who told him after a take that a note was inaudible in his performance. Gould asked him the measure, and promptly cut in the passage for studio editing. Seems he had a precise visual memory of the score, like an orchestra conductor.
3. Obviously, since the scribbles cover the notes, the sheet music wasn’t used for performance. The music score in this case becomes a preparation document for musical interpretation. Gould really had structure and details all memorized, and used the approach of a conductor when playing music, often conducting himself with his hand, or even his body sway. In other words, his annotations are those of a conductor.

My conclusion? I got confirmation at this exhibit that Gould was truly breaking from of the “read-only” culture of concert appearances and making inroads into the “read-write” culture of studio manipulation, in his life-long pursuit of the philosophy of open-ended composition.

Providing such a service, I thought, would help remedy a recurrent problem in music education. That is: despite the abundance of educational/mentorship options available to budding musicians today, useful resources on the topic of practice strategies and tactics - whatever the instrument - still seemed to be lacking.

To be sure, many music education publishing companies have published materials on the topic of music practice strategies (Homespun Tapes, Berklee Press, Hal Leonard, and others). And in any given urban area, musicians have access to a wide range of teachers and educational opportunities.

But in my own experience, I found that only a very few teachers have taken the trouble to systematize their tacit teaching knowledge into a set of principles, strategies, tools, etc. On the other hand, many published resources do just this, but they obvious can’t provide the personalized attention that teachers and mentors can, which is often needed for long-term learning projects.

My point: specialized music schools notwithstanding, there didn’t seem to be a real and/or virtual PLACE you could go to which would provide just such “integrated” support. So starting a blog based on giving practice tools, tips and advice would allow me, at the very least, to seek out such resources and organize them for a readership.

Well, that’s not where THIS blog went.

The reason? I realized this topic wasn’t really my strength. Turns out my talents and passions are better manifested in the creative treatment of educational ideas, and the analysis of new culture/communications trends. The “amateur musicians” part is simply the perspective from which I wanted to write and research my topics, the emerging “pro-am” movement.

So my original idea of an online guide for music practice tools and techniques went on ice.

oh when the saints, come marching in…

That said, I’m happy to tell you there’s a new practice tips and techniques aficionado on the block(osphere), and his name is Ben Clapton.

Ben Clapton is here to help you practice your instrument. That’s the name of his blog: Music Practice Tips. His mission:

How often does your teacher tell you to practice more, but doesn’t actually tell you how to approach it?
How many times have you practiced the same thing over and over, only to see it get worse in your lesson?
How many days have you not practiced, not because you don’t want to, but because you don’t feel inspired?
This site is devoted to these issues, giving you a resource that you can come to find inspiration, practice methods, and ways of effective practice and self-learning.

Looking through the articles, I’m impressed with the quality of content Clapton makes available for readers. New concepts and strategies are introduced and explained to help students re-think their approach, and integrate them into their (hopefully) daily practice routine. As well, the often-overlooked “attitudinal issues” - such as setting realistic goals and and practicing for performance-readiness - are given special attention on Music Practice Tips.

And it’s a well-organized blog, with a clear audience in mind. From the title page, a reader can see the latest article briefs (clickable, for full post access), a site mission summary to the right, and categories and popular posts to the left. The categories are well-chosen and relevant, mindful of problems and issues that typically arise from a music practice lifestyle.

how resourceful are your resources?

And more? I notice the curious “Practiceopedia” link in the Music Practice Tips blogroll, and click through, expecting to stumble upon some über-online resource or portal for musicians looking for “best practice”-type learning advice.

The Practiceopedia page reveals just such a resource.

Which brings me to the next point I wanted to make in this review: in a world where blogs and books are fighting it out for our attention, what makes a learning resource truly useful and valuable?

From what I can gather in the video overview, Practiceopedia is indeed one whopper of a resource. In a nutshell, the Practiceopedia value-added approach to learning music combines pedagogical theory with practical advice, into a set of logically organized sections navigable by learners, according to their needs.

Only thing: it is a book. In our case, this means a caveat: Practiceopedia’s greatest strength - from the point of view of its intended readership of young music students - may also be its greatest weakness.

For example, in Practiceopedia learning techniques are, from the user’s point of view, the means of navigating through the volume. As useful as this may be, it generally assumes that learners - and young learners in particular - are rational, purpose-driven, “best practice” seekers looking to optimize their learning process for best results.

In other words, in my view, the instructional design of Practiceopedia serves a somewhat-idealized reader: someone who is reflexive about their learning process, or at least will become so in his or her use the book over time.

In an instructional setting, who are the experienced learners? Music teachers.

So are students using the book as recommended? Is it producing good results? I’m not saying that the assumptions Practiceopedia makes about its readership are wrong, only that as a format it may not “hit the mark” with its intended audience, and rather may end up being a more useful resource for music teachers.

have hacks will travel

Since we are concerned about usefulness to the widest possible category of learners, I’ll contrast this “learning heuristics” approach to the “hacks” approach favored by Clapton on his blog.

Why the “hacks” format? For one, its sheer practical bent seems well suited to the hyper-fragmented attention world of the modern multi-media landscape. Indeed, many successful internet businesses owe their success in part to this format for content: Tim O’Reilly of O’Reilly Publishing has already reflected on the meaning of the success of his technology Hack Series. And if there’s one blog that is doing well in the blogosphere, it’s Lifehacker.com.

Simply put, the hacks approach is successful in providing focused answers to specific problems. Hacks can be simple, or they can be complex. In terms of advice, good hacks are mindful of the attitude of creative focus that learners have when they set their minds on solving a problem. Always a specific problem, mind you.

book 2.0

So here’s where the Music Practice Tips blog is, in my view, an improvement on book resources like Practiceopedia: beyond providing learners with a useful battery of learning techniques (no small feat!), it provides them with problem-solving tips that are easy to integrate into daily life, and does so in a timely manner.

Bottom line, here’s what Practiceopedia can’t do as a resource that Music Practice Tips can:

1. Practiceopedia is, again, a book. As useful and brilliantly designed as it may be, until it also turns into a blog (preferably with video and audio content), it risks suffering the fate that befalls books these days: Attention Deficit Disorder. Especially in the hands of young learners! That is, it may soon find itself at the bottom of a pile of other useful resources, on that dusty and neglected “serious stuff” desk, next to school homework. If it’s not part of their day-to-day culture…
2. Practiceopedia’s single-volume comprehensiveness also runs the risk of inducing in its users a passive psychology of “having all the bases covered”. In other words: it may ironically end up not being used as often as it should because “it has all the answers”.
3. Unlike on-line resources, Practiceopedia cannot evolve with its audience, nor create a community around the resources it offers. if there are any lessons we should have learned by now with regards to new media: design your information for knowledge capture, conversation… and tribes!

So there you have it. In the final analysis, if Music Practice Tips turns out to be a blog tribute - even extension - of Practiceopedia, then maybe this issue is all for naught and I can simply rest my case: we are getting the best of both worlds. To be sure, many of the concepts and techniques featured in posts on Music Practice Tips seem to be adaptations of concepts originating in Practiceopedia (…and if that’s the case, I’d recommend Mr. Clapton take Practiceopedia out of the Music Practice Tips Blogroll, and get an affiliate marketing deal going with the publishers of the book!).

For the moment, I’ve chosen to look at Music Practice Tips as an experiment in bringing ‘updated’ traditional music pedagogy out of the instructional setting, to the new natural environment of self-directed and passionate learners: the Internet and the blogosphere.

An experiment which I wholeheartedly endorse. Certainly, blogs that start off on the right foot deserve our full attention and support.

Like: why does it seems to me that nobody uses the word “energy” more loosely than musicians (OK, maybe Feng Shui practitioners, aging hippies, UN Eco-Popes, yoga teachers and crystal healers are energy fluff-aholics, too. But on the whole…)?

For example, I’m a musician - just back from a vacation in my hometown of Winnipeg, Canada (”Spirited Energy” is the provincial slogan!) - and I’ll tell you this: whenever I go through downtown Winnipeg, I can’t help noticing an office building which really gives me the creeps.

I mean, it’s all bad vibes.

Yes, it’s the Credit Union Plaza, 215 Garry Street. Here’s the building data:

• Date: 1976
• Architect: Smith Carter Architects
• Some (previous and current) tenants: Credit Union Central, Department of Transportation and Government Services, Gaming Control Commission

Yes, yes, “bad vibes”! Like that black monolith in Stanley Kubrick’s 2001!

So, totally flaky? Or am I just oversensitive with regards to sinister-looking things, like those animals who go crazy two hours before a major earthquake?

Probably. But I’m also a curious guy.

feng phooey

Alright Ladies. I don’t want to be delving into Feng Shui or Ouija just yet. Rather, I’m going to consult a few muses, and see what they make of any “vibes” - real and imagined - emanating from this building.

First muse: the science of acoustics, the link between music and architecture.

Our key diagnostic tool will be the concept of harmonics. Harmonic and harmony share the same Greek root harmonia, meaning “joint, agreement, concord” (also a goddess in Greek mythology).

In acoustics, harmonics are the basic over-tones or frequencies which, blending together in the vibration of an air passage, drum surface or string length, and make up the pitch (note) and timbre (sound “color”) of a given musical instrument.

In music, tonal harmony is the set of tone relations that govern musical concordance and dissonance, based on scale patterns within the tonal key system.

big-time flake makes important scientific discovery!

While these concepts are the stock and trade of every serious student of music, I’m going to take an immediate historical turn, to garner the insights necessary for unwinding this foul-building plot.

A bit of research on the origins of music theory shows that our Hard Science and New Age obsession over harmonics is admittedly of ancient origins.

The earliest theories of music that have come down to us have come from Ancient Greek philosopher Pythagoras.

Pythagoras is famous for giving music theorists the basic concepts for understanding musical scale construction.

He did this by dividing a plucked, resonating string into sections, and comparing the length of each section in relation to other tone pitches. From vibrating string sections, Pythagoras observed divisions that bore fractional relation to one another.

Cumulatively, these vibrating segments came to be known as the harmonic series.

By way of example: pressing down exactly in the middle of a whole string length would produce a tone exactly an octave above the open string. Pythagoras assigned the numerical ratio 2:1 to express this relationship between string division and tone pitch.

The following graphic demonstrates the 2:1, 3:1 and 3:2 monochord ratios, using frequency measurements of Hz, or cycles per second.

The Pythagorean theory, in a nuthsell:

• Every pitch value exists in relation to another. Even a single vibrating open string is expressed as 1:1 ratio.
• Laws govern harmonic relationships, which are to be expressed as numerical ratios.
• The western tradition of tonal harmony developed from the systemization of Pythagoras’ approach.

harmony, meet the sphinx

Fair enough. But where does this take us with regards to our “building vibe” diagnostic quest?

Actually, down the road to a much more ancient doctrine.

What is often overlooked in our understanding of ancient music theory, is that Pythagoras attributed deep mystical value to numbers. His fully articulated doctrine - called Sacred Geometry - was considered an esoteric science for priestly or philosophical initiates only, and it is believed today that Pythagoras inherited and “secularized” this received body of mystical knowledge from Egyptian forebears.

The following video documentary provides some fascinating (if not controversial) background research on the ancient mystery schools from which it is believed Pythagoras derived his initiation (watch from segment 6 onwards for an intro on “The Sacred Science”).

Whatever you make of this type of historical investigation, it should at least be more obvious by now that musicians and sound engineers can claim no exclusivity to the art and science of harmonics. Indeed, following these ancient precepts, music is simply an applied branch in the set of knowledge disciplines that comprise “The Sacred Science”. These disciplines can be listed as follows:

• Chemistry
• Physical sciences
• Philosophy
• Medicine
• Astronomy
• Geometry
• Architecture
• Music
• Mathematics

magic and mystery in central Canada

If all this stuff seems rather far-fetched and esoteric to you, well… you’re right. I mean, there’s a building in Winnipeg which gives me the creeps, and somehow I’m trying to relate my subjective impressions of this building to the mystery schools of Ancient Egypt!

So perhaps I should begin making my point ;-).

One of the reasons people take to learning a music instrument is the ability to express themselves through song and music. Concretely, that means learning to produce harmonious, melodic and rhythmic vibrations with their musical device, in keeping with the stylistic laws of any given musical genre.

In this way, just as I’m instinctively repelled by this building, I am subconsciously attracted to my instrument, knowing it is designed for creative harmonic purposes.

Indeed, if there’s one (flaky) thing we can derive from this “Sacred Science of Geometry”, it is that harmonics are universal. Everybody knows the cliché: “music is the universal language of humankind”. But scientifically speaking even rhythmic devices, such as a single drum resonate with harmonic frequencies.

So in a way, it seems the only difference between us and the ancients is that the ancients thought all things to be imbued with “mystical resonances” (harmonics), from the smallest being in the microcosm to the largest of celestial bodies.

So in effect, what am I doing? I’m just putting on an ancient mask to better sniff out some contemporary bad vibes.

Like Frank Albo, Manitoba’s most recent academic celebrity, now a celebrated architectural harmonics inspector. For those of you who haven’t heard of him, Frank has made a name for himself as expert in local esoteric lore in Winnipeg, with his landmark research on the Freemasonic origins of the Manitoba Legislature.

Here’s a televised segment of Frank doing a “magical mystery tour” of the legislature (apologies for the appalling hipness displayed by the show hosts). Of interest to us: there’s a neat demonstration of architectural harmonics in the final bit of the segment.

and what about glass pyramids?

So in the end, can Frank’s research methods provide me with the key to my local bad vibes diagnostic quest?

Well, if bad industrial design remains the main criteria for determining whether a building has Sick Building Syndrome or not, perhaps flaky musicians such as myself must ultimately have recourse to architectural harmonic assessments, as self-defense against psychically noxious sites.

‘Cause, unless you’ve got that special ear training, you’ll never really know when your local glass pyramid will spontaneously shatter.

(Great West Life glass pyramid, across the road from the Manitoba Legislature.)

Funny funny, but were it only that simple, I say!

For, who has access to “one or two sonatas daily”, except… anybody with a digital audio player and the appropriate mp3 files or CD’s in his/her collection.

And this is exactly the assumption made by this tongue-in-cheek joke. Press the play button, and let Mozart take over your wounded psyche.

Right?

mozac prozac muzak

Certainly the idea of prerecorded instrumental music as mood enhancer is nothing new. In terms of industrial applications, music as mood-enhancement - or Muzak - is alive and well today in the service and retail sectors of the economy, as well as in many large organizations.

And the pharmacological equivalent is, of course, Prozac, the world’s most famous mood-enhancement pill - which the above faux-label is parodying, in a gesture of critique of our Prozac Nation.

To be sure. But as social commentary goes, how self-aware is this joke? For, whether we’re popping blue pills or music pills, shouldn’t we be asking: is the “instant mood-enhancement” way of life truly improving our lives?

In fact, has it ever? Like, if you’re hearing a Mozart sonata while being put on hold on your bank’s customer service phone line, does it truly relieve your stress?

music for the (moral uplift of the) masses

Yes, popping pills for every real or perceived ailment is here to stay. But as it pertains to music, how did this expectation of instant uplift become so widespread?

In reviewing the historical roots of the mood-enhancement view of music, I’m reminded of a little-known essay by the American idealist philosopher Manly P. Hall, called The Therapeutic Value of Music, published by the Philosophical Research Society way back in 1982.

In this small tract, Hall reviews various philosophies of music (mostly from Ancient Greece) , with an emphasis on the study of music’s effect on the human psyche. He notes that the therapeutic effects of music were well-known and understood in the Ancient world, and that philosophers thought of music as an “applied science” for mental health, what we would today call an “expressive therapy“.

The main difference between the ancients and the moderns being that the ancients thought music, in its everyday use, as integral to everyone’s mental equilibrium, whereas we moderns use music therapy approaches in cases of pathology and illness.

And this is precisely where Hall sides with the ancients. First, his description of the inner life of modern man is striking in its use of the Ancient Greek philosophical concept of psychic integrity, applied to the modern world:

Lack of personality integration also plays a part in the stress patterns of modern man. There is too much emphasis upon efficiency and not enough upon integrity. The individual is not equipped to meet shock and stress. He lacks self-control and self-directives. He is worried constantly by economic pressures due, at least in part, to the desperate effort to live beyond his means. Luxuries have become necessities, and the fear of debt hangs over millions of families. [...] We must realize that the intense struggle for economic survival has transformed our world into an economic battlefield. As in the case of most psychic disorder, the sufferer is his own worst enemy, and in many instances his troubles are due to his mental and emotional tensions. (The Therapeutic Value of Music, p. 24)

Having made a diagnosis of what ails us (economic insecurity due to debt financing), Hall goes on to suggest… the industrial application of the Ancients’ philosophy of music as the cure! That’s right, instead of suggesting corrective political action, Hall opts for the classic social engineering approach. You will no doubt be familiar with some of his prescriptions for “therapeutic music in industrial settings”:

First, as a therapy for nervous tension, the music should be heard rather than listened to. This means it must be played softly and the volume adjusted to the acoustical problem of the store or factory. If it is dominant and attracts direct attention, it becomes annoying and interferes with mental concentration. It may also conflict with the rhythm of industrial routine. Second, if the compositions played are too subjective, difficult or involved, they can cause concern or tip the listener into a negative mood. Also, unfamiliar melodies require more conscious attention and are therefore unadvisable. Third, background music - with a certain gentle insistence, pleasant and kindly, gracious and relaxed, and frequently repeated - becomes a suggestive therapy.

Fourth, problems of individual taste must be considered. When several thousand listeners listen at one time to a particular program, a common denominator of acceptance must be found. This involves the same type of thinking which endeavors to choose a popular program for radio or television. Experience shows that a certain type of music has the broadest type of appeal to every class of audience. Fifth, by trial and error it has been learned that jazz has little or no therapeutic value. If this seems to be an attack upon a popular music form, the outraged disciples of syncopation can take heart in the thought that grand opera is no better. Jazz is a stimulant and an irritant and so are all compositions featuring broken rhythms, dissonances, and exaggerated tempo. Most operatic selections require too much listening, as well as highly-trained acceptance and appreciation.

Further research has eliminated vocal music. Words do not always broadcast clearly, and the mind becomes actively intrigued and instinctively listens. Intense rhythms fatigue those who hear them and cause a positive reaction such as the effort to keep time with the feet or nodding the head. Semiclassical music, featuring persuasive melodies and familiar tunes - sometimes slightly nostalgic, is the more successful. A pleasant melodic line, carried mostly in the strings and not noticeable in the brass percussions, was found to be universally acceptable, fulfilling the old doctrine of Pythagoras. (The Therapeutic Value of Music, pp. 25-26.)

Does this sound like a program for the “psychic integration of the whole personality” to you? Or rather: the philosophy of elevator music?

from mood enhancement to sonic branding

It’s pretty clear to me that the model Hall prescribes in his Therapeutic Value of Music is what is known today as “easy-listening“. That is: that bland, formulaic, feel-good, endless-melody sonic streams that still pollute many of our indoor public environments today.

For most people, the entrenchment of elevator music in all spheres of public life is due to the successes of the Muzak Corporation. Indeed the word “Muzak” has come to be synonymous to elevator music, as “Kleenex” to snot rags.

This short video history of the Muzak Corporation briefly covers the corporation’s response to such intense negative branding:

I’ve got a hunch that the Muzak Corporation’s radical makeover in the 1980’s has also something to do with the fact that the positive effects of easy-listening have been grossly over-estimated. I don’t know if such studies exist, but I bet one could establish a significant correlation between easy-listening music and an increase in ambient anxiety.

brave new leisure society

Perhaps Manly P. Hall and Muzak should be seen as products of the broadcast era, where the problem of mental health for the masses is viewed from above, and solutions are prescriptive. In other words, whether you’re popping Prozac, or your workplace broadcasts preselected playlists to optimize worker performance, the decisions about what’s best for everyone are made by expert psychologists.

To a great extent, this also still applies to the health sciences. In institutional contexts, therapeutic applications of music are in the hands of accredited experts in the field of music therapy, even if such applications are “personalized” and “patient-centered”.

But outside of the medical enclave, who’s privy to in-depth therapeutic uses of music? In other words: aside from your infinite mp3 playlists, how are you to meet your “personality integration needs” with music?

Taking our cue from Manly P. Hall, perhaps the answers may lie, after all, in a re-examination of the Ancient philosophy of music. But instead of a prescriptive approach, perhaps we could nurture age-old insights about music’s therapeutic properties from the point of view of learning to play an instrument, with self-expression as our goal, or deeper motive.

Here, I will give psychologist John Sloboda the last word:

We need living and socially relevant forms to replace the church choir and the village brass band. Recent pleas by major figures in classical music for the government to reverse cuts in school instrumental provision may have come too late, if the social institutions that support music making outside the academy are no longer there.

I have no idea what these social institutions might be, what they might build on, or how they can be encouraged. Psychology cannot provide the answer to such questions. All it can do is indicate some of the conditions that must be met if these institutions are to enable the flourishing of individual development.

The evidence [...] indicates to me that performance potential could be unlocked in millions of people if we could recreate social institutions that focused on musical enjoyment, and personal and communal fulfillment, rather than on the need to be best, or to meet the taxing performance requirements of a professional elite.

I’d argue that changes in our communication technologies are enabling this home brew entrepreneurship revolution. For example, the so-called “Web 2.0” paradigm shift on the Internet, describes a new way of creating wealth with tools such as wikis, blogs and interactive content portals, where the bulk of content is generated by users.

In other words: today, it’s participation, collaboration and “user-generated content” that make or break new brands on the Internet.

More important for a musicians: Web 2.0 services and apps have helped break the traditional isolation of the DIY’er and the amateur. Think of all those home bodies putting up their latest musical achievements on YouTube, and the feedback they’re getting as a result.

Three years ago? Unheard of.

the pro-am revolution

This new social norm of active leisure and “user-generated content” is one of the main themes explored by British think-tank Demos in its publications. In their Pro-Am Revolution, Charles Leadbeater and Paul Miller (published as a .pdf document) describe the demographic, economic, educational and technological trends underpinning the increase in participation by previously marginalized actors in all areas of the knowledge economy.

And who are these previously marginalized upstarts? Simply dedicated amateurs?

Better. Leadbeater and Miller call these “new knowledge agents” Pro-Ams: passionate amateurs working within professional standards.

As a consultant to industry and goverment in the UK, Leadbeater has been a major proponent of the concept of an “innovation commons”. In a presentation at TED, he describes the new culture of Pro-Ams with examples from the fields of science, manufacturing, and law, and further provides policy recommendations, applicable to both public and private sectors.

a manifesto for makers

The macro-trends described by Leadbeater and Miller help us situate the culture shift in the larger context. But that doesn’t necessarily give voice to the experience of the New Amateur (or “Pro-Am”), or describe the psychology of making as a way of life.

In other words, is Pro-Am activity simply “occupational”, or is it a new ethic?

I turn here to University of Helsinki researcher and blogger Ulla-Maaria Mutanen for some help. On her Hobby Princess blog (republished in Make Magazine) you’ll find a curious Craft Manifesto.

The Manifesto is Mutanen’s attempt to encapsulate - in the plainest language possible - the conditions, rewards and implications of making, as an economic activity and as a way of life.

Though I encourage you to read it in full (it’s short), here are some highlights as they relate to my talking points (note: though the statements below mostly apply to the making of physical craft objects, musicians should be able to “transpose” these insights at the level of music-making activity and creativity. If you simply replace “objects” and “things” with “music”, you’ll get my point):

1. People get satisfaction for being able to create/craft things because they can see themselves in the objects they make. This is not possible in purchased products. [...]

4. People seek recognition for the things they have made. Primarily it comes from their friends and family. This manifests as an economy of gifts.

5. People who believe they are producing genuinely cool things seek broader exposure from their products. This creates opportunities for alternative publishing channels.

6. Work inspires work. Seeing what other people have made generates new ideas and designs.

7. Essential for crafting are tools, which are accessible, portable, and easy to learn. [...]

10. Learning techniques brings people together. This creates online and offline communities of practice.

11. Craft-oriented people seek opportunities to discover interesting things and meet their makers. This creates marketplaces.

12. At bottom, crafting is a form of play.

What’s relevant from these statements (individually and taken together), is that we gain insight on the amateur as a passionate maker or crafter, engaged in his/her art or craft as a way of life (as I like to insist upon).

Further, this ethic of making can today become widespread and cross-cultural, as we gain new tools for socializing and sharing knowledge.

Finally, the communities of practice that arise from the new communication tools enable us to rediscover old forms of wealth that emphasize “relationship capital” - that is, what Mutanen refers to as the gift economy.

the cathedral & the bazaar

By all means, Mutanen isn’t the first cultural commentator on the (new) gift economy block. Indeed the concept of a “potlatch economy” most famously took off recently with the publication, in October 1999, of Eric Raymond’s book The Cathedral and the Bazaar - another manifesto, this time for the open source movement in software and (networked) IT development.

Despite the brouhaha it generated around open vs. proprietary code and business models, the Cathedral and the Bazaar had the merit of analyzing the motivations of inter-connected individuals who dedicated time, talent and resources for the benefits of robust software, with no financial rewards in view.

Raymond’s conclusions? In the bottom-up, “bazaar” model of massively distributed collaboration, the sharing of resources, tools, techniques and knowledge are the new social norm. He saw that this type of wealth-creation followed the patterns of what anthropologists called “reciprocal exchange”: the gift economy.

In a nutshell:

• The more you give, the more prestige/value you have in the eyes of your peers.
• If making implies giving: the more you make, the more you are capable of truly bonding with all your significant others, since your gifts are personalized.

In other words, making is as inwardly focussed (creativity, self-expression) as it is outwardly (gifts, social prestige).

Thus, we can now measure the richness of our culture by the respect and recognition given to the most dedicated and unique makers - whether professional or amateur - in our midst.

Never fear! We’re living in a brave new age of gurus, and there’s a solution-head out there for every spiritual and practical problem that ails’ ya.

Here’s a shortlist of techniques and approaches from trusted authorities in the science of motivational dynamics, hand-picked by yours truly to help you dispel those blues, and set you on the path to peak performance!

Dr. Pavlov’s (Re)Move approach

A classic! Used by all standing armies of the world. And evil geniuses too.

It works like this. First, you deprive yourself of something that you instinctively need. Then you enter into a pact with yourself that you’ll only fulfill that need when you’ve gotten around to accomplishing that important task you’ve been so woefully neglecting.

In our case: practicing our instrument.

Example: deprive yourself of your favorite food. If you’re supremely lazy, deprive yourself of a food you can’t do without, such as water, or coffee. Practice until dehydrated. Then reward yourself with a much-needed beverage.

Repeat until famous.

The official theory: behaviorism, esp. classical conditioning. Some of its fanciest words are: conditioned-reflex response to behavioral stimulus (I’m riffing, here).

Caveat: if this method doesn’t work, and you start to feel like a demoralized rat stuck in a cage, at least you can take comfort in the fact that you’ve become very good at manipulating yourself.

Dr. Loyola’s Seven Lively Virtues approach

Speaking of instincts, doesn’t your repudiation of discipline have everything to do with succumbing to your base instincts?

No cure for that, mate: biology is destiny! you say.

Don’t be so rash. Ever heard of righteous self-denial, or leavened grace? What about celibacy? Or HLCHFPI?

Following the percept of Papal Infallibility, Dr. Loyola and his Society of Jesus (otherwise known as the Jesuits) offers a rigorous program for combating what top Catholic theologians call the Seven Deadly Sins.

In Latin, the acronym for the sins (that keep you from practicing) is SALIGLIA, which stands for Superbia (pride/vanity), Avaritia (greed/avarice), Luxuria (lust), Invidia (envy/jealousy), Gula (gluttony), Ira (wrath/anger) and Acedia (sloth).

The countervailing virtues actively promoted by the Jesuits are summarized by the acronym HLCHFPI, which stands for (don’t ask me what these mean in English, ok?): Humilitas, Liberalitas, Castitas, Humanitas, Frenum, Patientia, Industria.

So there you have it. From the orthodox Catholic standpoint, it all comes down to SALIGLIA vs. HLCHFPI. And guess which of the two is easier to pronounce?

Caveat: Though it’s easy to associate the Jesuits with a life a discipline and self-denial, they’re pretty sensitive about being mixed up with Opus Dei. Be careful!

Dr. Spock’s Baby Whispers approach

Dr. Benjamin Spock, that is. Not Mr. Spock.

In stark contrast to the Jesuits’ disciplinary outlook, the highly influential (and controversial) methods of Dr. Spock have long promoted the view that a more “permissive” and “attentive” approach to childrearing, may paradoxically yield more self-directed and self-confident adult personalities.

So it goes for music skill acquisition. Assuming your music learning project is in its infancy, what seems the best approach to take?

Follow the precepts of Dr. Spock. Lavish your maternal instincts onto your instrument. Be constantly attentive to its every need. When it cries, pick it up. Also: reward it with gleeful applause for the simplest of accomplishments. Finally, truly learn to listen to your instrument, and don’t assume that a lack of sound is an absence of potential musicality!

And please, don’t let it sleep in its’ case: cuddle with your instrument in bed at night. Make sure your partner is supportive: it’s a little person’s future that’s at stake!

Caveat: be careful not to confuse Dr. Spock with Dr. Phil. That guy’s a Dr. Spock impostor sent by the Jesuits to get America back down on its knees!

Dr. Doppelgänger’s Outsource It! approach

Just another way of saying that you can program your digital avatar to do all the practicing for you in Second Life.

Or: let every musician who’s ever recorded a worthy note or track provide you with the musical materials to mix with you machine-generated beats.

If you’re a DJ.

Better yet, you can follow Tim Ferriss’ advice and outsource your practice routine for $5.00 a week, while you sip strawberry daiquiris on some beach in Thailand.

Dr. Freud’s Nimble Fingers approach

In this approach, everything little thing you do in life, every object you use, every innocuous preference you express toward someone or something, is but a thinly veiled substitute for projections of your sex and death drives.

Death drive!?! Well, that’s the part I don’t really understand with Freud.

But sex drive? Man, if we had to distill the lessons from a century of a