Summary
Title: Who Needs Classical Music?: Cultural Choice and Musical Value
Author: Julian Johnson
Publisher: Oxford University Press
ISBN: 0195146816
Pro:
• Raises interesting and thought-provoking issues
Con:
• Ideas and arguments are a bit complex for most readers
Description:
• Explains how and why “classical” music is a form of art, not just entertainment
• Argues that music-as-art has more value than music-as-entertainment
• Explains how and why classical music should be valued by everyone
Book Review
Music is important to people’s lives, but the role music plays in people’s lives has changed and perhaps not for the better. There is a common assumption that all music is “equal” in value and in what it can do for a person, but isn’t that rather like saying that all illustrations or drawings are “equal” in value, whether they are a daily comic or a Picasso painting?
Julian Johnson challenges such notions, but specifically those dealing with music, in his book Who Needs Classical Music? Cultural Choice and Musical Value. Johnson is clear right at the beginning that he is contradicting popular trends and assumptions, but his basic premise is persuasive even before he begins making his arguments:
- “Central to my argument is the idea that classical music is distinguished by a self-conscious attention to its own musical language. Its claim to function as art derives from its peculiar concern with its own materials and their formal patterning, aside from any considerations about its audience or its social use.”
Classical music is typically thought of as European music created between the 17th and 19th centuries, but Johnson uses it in an unusual manner. Johnson’s focus isn’t on music from a particular culture or era; instead, Johnson’s focus is on music as art rather than a form of popular entertainment. For Johnson, “classical music” is any music that is self-consciously art and thus Johnson’s larger purpose is to discuss the place and purpose of art in modern culture.
Music is an interesting choice for this discussion and perhaps an especially appropriate one because most people are, to be blunt, musically illiterate. People may listen to music every day, but they don’t know or understand the language of music and therefore are unable to easily approach music on its own terms. Not knowing the language of music, they are unable to compare or contrast Beethoven and Britney Spears, Mozart and Madonna. All that’s left, then, is to simply assert that all music is equal and pretend that the issue doesn’t exist after all.
Johnson will be accused of defending “elitism” with such arguments, but even if we assume that there is something wrong with being “elitist,” what’s wrong with insisting that some cultural objects require more work and attention to understand? What’s wrong with insisting that we can get more out of a cultural object when we invest work and effort into understanding it? What’s wrong with arguing that the relative value of cultural objects cannot be set by the marketplace — that value has more to do with what these objects communicate than with what people are willing to pay for them?
Perhaps all of that is elitist, but if so then perhaps our culture could benefit from a bit more elitism rather than less. Johnson certainly doesn’t dismiss modern popular music nor does he argue that it has no place in contemporary culture. What he does, however, is criticize the way contemporary attitudes force classical music to fit popular molds of time, rhythm, and attitude. He argues that others are being the true elitists because they deny any role to music other than entertainment or background noise.
Johnson’s book is certainly not aimed at most readers because this isn’t a subject that interests most people — or at least as many people as it should. It’s certainly not an easy book, but it’s also not as dense as it might have been. It’s not a book for everyone, then, but it’s a book that touches on subjects relevant to just about everyone.
