Monday, December 5, 2011

Mozart and Self-Deception

Since my last posting on Tolstoy and "War and Peace," I’ve been thinking a lot about why I’ve always preferred Mozart to Beethoven. This is especially poignant for me as today (December 5th) is the 220th anniversary of Wolfgang's death at the age of 35. It reminds me of the old Tom Lehrer joke, "It's sobering to remember that when Mozart was my age he'd already been dead two years!"

Sigh...

Anyway, I’m just old enough to remember how Mozart was once dismissed as a pretty but superficial “precursor” to Beethoven’s greatness. Even as a young ‘un, puffing away on my clarinet in Mr. Tucker’s “senior woodwinds” class in high school, that kind of thinking just totally hacked me off! 

As in:

“In his symphonies, Mozart suggests the themes Beethoven would bring to a more profound culmination in the Eroica.”

“Although charming, Mozart’s wind quintet must yield the palm to the greater depths of Beethoven’s Opus blah-blah-blah.”

 “In his string quartets, Mozart begins an exploration of the genre that will only reach its apotheosis in Beethoven’s late works.”

Yuck! Gag me with a Sacher Torte!

From the first time I heard Mozart’s music in “Music Appreciation” class in the 7th grade I was just… well… hooked. I immediately felt a sense of connection that I had never experienced before. I think that’s why I chose to play the clarinet in the first place. Some music teachers came into class one day and said, “Who wants to learn to play something besides the radio?” (Today I imagine they would day the IPod.) Remembering all the wonderful music that Mozart had written for the clarinet (the trio, the quintet, the concerto), I shot up my little hand and said, “The licorice stick for me, please!” And how I wanted to play all of those wonderful solos he created for the instrument in his operas! It seems that every time Mozart wants to speak about human longing and desire he gives the music to the clarinet. 

As in:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XCOZbjePXkI

For those of you who followed the link, there are certainly more elaborate polished versions of this music on YouTube. But I just had to include this one for the magical moment that occurs about 25 seconds in. At least it’s magical for any clarinet player!

Despite the poverty, ugliness and horror that I might be feeling at any particular moment, Mozart’s music was always for me beauty, happiness, and the longing for a kind of harmony and sweetness that transfigures and ennobles our lives. And, tootling away on the half-busted B-flat clarinet that I got for $5 at the local hock shop, I felt I got at least a few half steps closer to experiencing that loveliness.

Fortunately, those bad old days of Mozart bashing are gone!  Today Wolfgang is celebrated as the titanic world-changing genius that he was. And the whole idea that he was just “leading up” to Ludwig van B has gone into the proverbial wastebasket of musicology. And if you doubt this just think about how many "Mostly Mozart" festivals there are compared to those that are "Basically Beethoven". Yay!
 
But do I really understand why I’ve always preferred Mozart? Or for that matter why I also prefer Virginia Woolf to D.H. Lawrence or Scott Fitzgerald to Hemingway?  So I decided to take a shower and brood on it – as most of my ideas tend to come in the shower. Something about great clouds of steam unlocking the otherwise fettered consciousness! 

And it hit me! Perhaps the unifying idea here is the theme of self-deception. This is something that has always haunted me. The idea that you think you are one thing, or are coming off as one thing, and in reality you are being perceived by everyone else in a totally different way.

For example:

You think you are like this…       … but everyone sees you as…

A brilliant raconteur                    A blowhard
Generous and giving                   Manipulative
A good listener                          Someone who never shuts up
Progressive in your views           A slave to your class interests
Speaking truth to power             Someone with tenure
Totally hot and “all that”             A candidate for an Oprah makeover

This kind of self-deception is at the heart of all of Mozart’s operas. In Beethoven, “people” are who they say they are (tortured, heroic, Promethean, etc.)  In Mozart, however, there is a constant sense that everyone is ensnared by their own misconceptions. So the Count who thinks he is a great seducer is really a buffoon. The servant who thinks he is the cleverest guy in the room is really being led around by the nose.  The “puppet master” who thinks he is pulling all the strings is really a sterile and lost old man. And so it goes. Of course, Mozart, being a supremely enlightened person, invites us to forgive them all through the beauty of his music. And so we do.

As in:


BTW, check out the comments after the video. They’re kind of wonderful!

With these thoughts in mind, I’ve been brooding on the degree of self-deception that marks my own life as a “seducer” of audiences.

As in:

I think I am like this…                      … but everyone sees me as…

A powerful playwright                     Meh - and who's up for
with provocative views                    Chinese food after the show?
who really stands out
from the crowd!
             
I like to think of myself as creating something of value. But doesn’t every creative person believe that? When I contrast that with the “90% of everything is crap” rule, I can see a problem. We can’t all be right, can we? So there has to be a lot of self-deception going on here!  But who is zooming whom?

Of course, this kind of thinking can lead down a very Hamlet-like hall of mirrors where you can’t pick up a pen without wondering about your actual motives. And I’m left with a feeling of envy for the “Beethovens” of this world – the people who truly feel that what they are doing is important and meaningful and must be shared with the world. Does it matter if this is self-deception after all? I mean… gosh…. We don’t even know how many universes we live in or how many dimensions there are. One two, eleven, a hundred, an infinite number? So if we can’t even understand where we are how can we know who or what we are either?

As Yul Brynner used to say in “The King and I,” ‘Tis a puzzlement!'

No comments:

Post a Comment