In a couple of weeks I will be presenting on the subject of adjudicating, and so I began thinking about what might I might share. The following are some thoughts that occurred to me while I was pondering the visual aspects of performance.
When it comes to music, we are visual creatures. We tend to deny it; we tend to pretend that it is not about how something looks, but how something sounds that is important. But so very often, it is really about how a performance “looks” that dictates how we will hear the performance.
Take, for example, two pianists playing two identical recitals equally well. One is dressed to the nines with a coat and tails; the other dresses casually in a shirt and jeans. One gets a standing ovation while the other receives moderate polite applause. Or what about the soloist who walks on to stage with great confidence and command of her instrument—she can often do no wrong in the eyes of the audience, while the virtuoso who stumbles on to stage is certain to receive questionable reviews.
The fact is we tend to judge the merit of a musical performance as much by what it looks like as how it sounds; and being the visual creatures we are, we cannot separate the two. Even when an instrumentalist is auditioning for a position “behind the scrim” so that we cannot see the individual play, we substitute our own thoughts for our visual stimuli and imagine how the performance must have looked. Even when we cannot see anything it appears that our default primary listening tool is still our eyes!
This is not surprising. Research has long ago shown that we gather approximately eighty percent of our sensory information from our eyes and that our default “sense” is the visual. We are more adept in processing the information we receive visually than that which we received through our other senses. It only makes sense that we would be strongly influenced by how a performance looks.
The first time I performed the Concord Sonata in its entirety I was a sophomore at the Eastman School. Wanting to impress everyone with how “cool” I was, I performed it in an African dashiki and tattered jeans. The only comments that I received from that particular performance was how difficult it was to watch me under those bright lights and how I swayed back and forth too much when I played. Needless to say, I toned down the attire for the next performance and the response was a great improvement.
In a perfect world it would not be this way. In a perfect world we would be able to judge the music for what it is or is not, and would not be influenced or distracted by the visual component. But, then again, maybe it is best that way. Musical performance was always meant to be an all-inclusive kind of sensory experience. Whether it’s the concert hall with its chandelier, the feel of the cushy seats, the smell of elderly ladies’ perfume wafting through the balcony and the perfect acoustics, or the sweat of an old jazz club with its smoke stained walls and drunken patrons, a musical performance is a holistic experience and when all the senses are working together to augment the musical offering, the whole is far greater than the sum of the parts and the performance reaches rapturous heights.
The important part is that we "experience" the performance. To separate the listening from the seeing is to lose much. There is nothing wrong with listening with your eyes.
When it comes to music, we are visual creatures. We tend to deny it; we tend to pretend that it is not about how something looks, but how something sounds that is important. But so very often, it is really about how a performance “looks” that dictates how we will hear the performance.
Take, for example, two pianists playing two identical recitals equally well. One is dressed to the nines with a coat and tails; the other dresses casually in a shirt and jeans. One gets a standing ovation while the other receives moderate polite applause. Or what about the soloist who walks on to stage with great confidence and command of her instrument—she can often do no wrong in the eyes of the audience, while the virtuoso who stumbles on to stage is certain to receive questionable reviews.
The fact is we tend to judge the merit of a musical performance as much by what it looks like as how it sounds; and being the visual creatures we are, we cannot separate the two. Even when an instrumentalist is auditioning for a position “behind the scrim” so that we cannot see the individual play, we substitute our own thoughts for our visual stimuli and imagine how the performance must have looked. Even when we cannot see anything it appears that our default primary listening tool is still our eyes!
This is not surprising. Research has long ago shown that we gather approximately eighty percent of our sensory information from our eyes and that our default “sense” is the visual. We are more adept in processing the information we receive visually than that which we received through our other senses. It only makes sense that we would be strongly influenced by how a performance looks.
The first time I performed the Concord Sonata in its entirety I was a sophomore at the Eastman School. Wanting to impress everyone with how “cool” I was, I performed it in an African dashiki and tattered jeans. The only comments that I received from that particular performance was how difficult it was to watch me under those bright lights and how I swayed back and forth too much when I played. Needless to say, I toned down the attire for the next performance and the response was a great improvement.
In a perfect world it would not be this way. In a perfect world we would be able to judge the music for what it is or is not, and would not be influenced or distracted by the visual component. But, then again, maybe it is best that way. Musical performance was always meant to be an all-inclusive kind of sensory experience. Whether it’s the concert hall with its chandelier, the feel of the cushy seats, the smell of elderly ladies’ perfume wafting through the balcony and the perfect acoustics, or the sweat of an old jazz club with its smoke stained walls and drunken patrons, a musical performance is a holistic experience and when all the senses are working together to augment the musical offering, the whole is far greater than the sum of the parts and the performance reaches rapturous heights.
The important part is that we "experience" the performance. To separate the listening from the seeing is to lose much. There is nothing wrong with listening with your eyes.