A Disorientating Ruckus - Maxwell Davies' speech to the Worshipful Company.

http://www.classicalmusichomepage.com/news-events/peter-maxwell-davies-hits-out-against-damien-hirst-the-universe-and-everything

Following the recent news story about Maxwell Davies' speech to a conference at the Worshipful Company of Musicians, i'd like to present the whole speech which, in context, isn't (as the Guardian would have it) a sole attack on Damien Hirst rather than the dumbing down of society in general.  I'd encourage everyone to take ten minutes to read it and would like to hear any comments people may have.

Thank you to Max for allowing us to include the full speech.

A Disorientating Ruckus

 

 

In
the mid nineteen-sixties, in the heady days of the Cultural Revolution,
it was mooted that the Chinese pictographic script be replaced by a
phonetic one, which would have cut the Chinese people off from any
understanding of books printed previously, throughout their culture and
history – except for those books authorised for transliteration by
Government consent. Even the revolutionary fanatics of the period
didn’t go quite that far, contenting themselves themselves with regular
censorship, and making the script more “approachable” for everyday, and
particularly propaganda purposes.

 

In
our democracy, censorship is more subtle. Over the last decades, since
Thatcher, every commodity, including culture, not only has to be
“approachable”, but, above all, have a measurable market, or commercial
value, and must be demonstrably accessible to the largest spread of
public. This is not a crudely stated policy, it is insinuated.

 

My
main concern is how this is changing the face of our musical culture,
but it is instructive to examine other areas of cultural interest from
which we may learn, starting with our political culture. (As creative
musicians, we must be engaged in politics, religion, education,
sciences, the arts, so that we are not just a passenger in our cultural
life, reflecting these fields in our work, but a very driving force.)

 

It
is fascinating to examine the language used by our politicians, while
bearing in mind certain parallels in the musical world. We can read
speeches by a Churchill, Attlee, Lloyd George or Gladstone and admire
the skill and lucidity, even the rhetoric, while possibly disagreeing
with the argument. We read a speech by a Blair or Cameron and instantly
forget it. At party conferences, or rather, these days, rallies, the
speeches consist of sound-bites linked by bridge passages, calculated
to fit neatly into a cramped television news slot or a mass circulation
banner headline. Politics has dumbed itself down to almost below the
horizon, with the public given no credit for intelligence or intellect,
while, ironically, ever fewer people trouble to vote, such is the
disillusion and disgust.  Could there be warnings for our profession here?  Moreover,
the claims to be bringing democracy to invaded Muslim countries, with
Abu-Ghraib, Guantanamo, mass bombardment and massive corruption do
politicians no favours, as our own freedoms are limited and infringed
by the so-called “war on terror”.  Among the
clanging trivia of Westminster baby-talk there is little mention of
these new restrictions, not of combating the inevitable long term
effects of climate-change, nor how to avoid future conflicts about
sources of energy, food and water.

 

As creative musicians, we can help make people of aware of such things that threaten our future.  In
all styles and types of music, we must bring awareness of that upon
which the politicians turn their backs, while they engage in
circumscribed, schoolboy mini-debates.

 

One
understands that, while our politicians grovel abjectly before the
megabussinesses and megabanks, at the electorate’s expense, serious
political debate could even question the sustainability of a global
market and financial system dedicated only to ever more massive profit
– in their collective view this would be the sin against the Holy Ghost.  But
we, through our work, must attempt to demonstrate that to refuse to
debate such “unthinkable” issues will, ultimately, sub specie
aeternitatis, have been the real sin against the Holy Ghost.

 

 Religion
is a sphere of our culture to which many composers are drawn, and in
the past it has even been the driving force of our culture.  State
and Church got by together, with compromise on both sides, and religion
endowed lives with meaning and reason, through ritual, and through all
kinds of arts of the richest and most profound kind.

 

We
are surrounded by the legacy of the Western Christian church, - its
buildings, its paintings, sculpture and music – but, for all the
efforts of Christian churches to make themselves, accessible and
popular, indifference to and ignorance of the church grows, except that
the most fundamental born-again persuasions continue to recruit.

 

Many
composers are put off by the incessant drive to involve as many people
as possible with the least possible effort for all concerned – it is
surely correct to wish to open doors to everyone, but one often has the
impression that this is to the exclusion of an informed and critical
relationship, particularly a musical one.  Ultimately
religion can only be successful when it appeals to our whole being,
including our brains, which would mean another kind of proselytism –
the exact opposite of dumbing down to market forces, becoming yet
another commodity to be advertised and sold to as many happy-clappy
consumers as possible.  It is embarrassing to
observe the churches concerning themselves with petty issues such as
women priests or bishops, contraception, homosexuality, while millions
die of aids and starvation, and the world is threatened with
man-propelled natural cataclysms: at least their convolutions haven’t
yet caused the destruction of Michelangelo’s and Caravaggio’s painting,
not the banning of the music of Tschaikowsky or Britten.

 

It
is unfair to suppose that many creative musicians, by nature sensitive
and hardly shallow thinkers, despite having a hankering after religion,
are put off by being required to accept as factually true mythological
truths of a transcendental profundity which renders such considerations
jejune and, dare one say, largely irrelevant?

 

Perhaps we have even more to learn from the world of art.

 

The
great patrons of the Renaissance and Baroque knew their biblical and
classical mythology, and could instantly recognise a pictured saint of
Greek god, as least di majorum gentium, and theoretical works of
Alberti, Pozzo, Palladio, Serlio, etc., were well disseminated, so that
complex theories of proportion and perspective were familiar and
understood.  Indeed, it was taken for granted by
earlier artists that just proportion was a necessary and structural
part of universal symbolism: physici mundum “magnum hominem” et hominem
“brevem mundum” esse dixerunt (the cosmologists have said that the
universe is the “great man, and that man is “the small universe”), and
“ut cuncta hic unus fulgo illuminet,” etc., (just as a single flash of
lightening illuminates the whole universe) – two quotations from
Macrobius’ “In Somnium Scipionis”, cited by de Bruyne in his
“L’Esthétique de Moyen Age”.  (I feel an
epidiascope should now project images of Leonardo’s “Cosmic Man” and
“Mona Lisa” across the whole world through many countries!)

 

In
the nineteenth century art become much more personal and subjective,
with eventually Van Gogh, Picasso and others teaching us to see
individual figures and objects bursting with unprecedented intensity,
light and new form.

 

These
artists make comparatively light demands on our intellect – what we see
is what we get – except when Picasso draws lightly on Greek mythology,
and then in a highly subjective way.  A Van Gogh
is instantly recognisable, and has thus become iconic – the kind of
thing the super-rich can display on their walls, and be approved by
their business friends, or a well-endowed gallery can display, to the
envy of the others.

 

Van
Gogh was an excellent, innovative painter, and cannot be held
responsible for the high prices and hysteria his works have engendered.

 

However,
I think we can all learn from a recent auction of art as an instantly
recognisable iconic commodity, where it has become part of the
entertainment industry, crossed with investment banking.  The
artist had wit to sell a golden calf and other bejewelled trinkets, but
all creative artists, in whatever branch of the arts they work, must
ponder the implications of so much money scrambling after manufactured
artifacts without content – with just a brand tag supposed to guarantee
market value.

 

The
pressures on us to conform to this image of “success” in our various
art worlds are enormous: this is “rewarding” art in every sense! – and
it is truly accessible, for everyone can “understand” it without
effort, and we can all be thrilled and amazed at the price tags.  It
reminds me of the Liberace museum in Las Vegas, where the great man’s
tatty stage costumes are exhibited, each with a fabulous price tag, and
we are supposed to be uplifted.

 

There
are, of course, interesting visual artists out there, but this auction
pantomime reflects the reductio ad absurdum of an art world where the
principles of the market reign supreme.

 

After politics, religion and the visual arts I come, inevitably, to education.

 

Many
have commented on the dumbing-down of education, on the standardisation
of teaching, on policies of inclusion which result in the promotion of
the ordinary and the exclusion of the exceptional.  The
most conspicuous manifestation of these educational/promotional
principles was the Millenium Dome, which aimed at teaching us all
inclusively and was of no interest to anybody – a tragic waste of
resources.  With a mote of foresight it could
have done wonders for the promotion of British culture, science and
education at all levels, on an international as well a national scale.

 

This
attitude, where the lowest common denominator is the rule, where
nothing music be challenging, where blandness is all-pervasive, where
students at all levels must feel good, confident, and at all costs
never be allowed to imagine they could ever, if they don’t work, be
considered a failure, - is all well and good, except that in my
experience young people respond to challenge.  If as teacher or educator you expect the lowest standards, this is what you will get.  If
as teacher you are not trained properly, so that a student who responds
with something beyond the lowest standards is perceived as a threat,
then we are already in a disaster area.

 

I
was instrumental, in a very small way, in the school where I taught in
the early 1960s, in placing children’s musical creativity at the centre
of their musical education.  At Cirencester
Grammar School the children were initially encouraged to find a way to
write a sound down – a sound imagined and created – which quickly led
to simple standard musical notation as a way to communicate creative
intentions within the group.  This also meant,
incidentally, that by year 3 they could sight-sing simple 4-part choral
music in class – madrigals, Palestrina, etc..

 

From
the compositions the children made in groups and as individuals, I
learned more than I ever taught – without the example of children’s
co-operative music-theatre creations, composed and performed in class,
I would never have had the confidence to compose the ‘8 Songs for a Mad
King’ or ‘The Lighthouse’.

 

Music
was an all-encompassing social activity in the school, with orchestra
and junior orchestra, and a large and a small choir, and pop groups,
each propelled by a constant stream of new music by the children, by
me, and by my teaching assistant.  Creativity – new, original, whacky music of all kinds – was at the hub.  The
young composers conducted, sang and played – pieces for morning
assembly, incidental music for theatre productions, short choral and
orchestral works for concerts and carol services, for founder’s day
ceremonies, for dances.  Everything was based on
a musical literacy one could take for granted, and on the highest
standards of composition and performance possible in the circumstances.    The
young people needed no directions from me about high standards, once
they realised how these affect enjoyment and achievement – they even
formed a small, rival choir, called ‘Pro Musica Optima’ – which put me
in my place on that score.

 

It
was the exceptional in everyone that was encouraged – I noticed that
most children compose music well and naturally unless inhibited – be
yourself to your utmost and with conviction and audacity, and you will
have absolute support on a musical level from us all – we performed a
few quite eccentric and difficult scores – and the young musicians were
supported on every possible level.

 

This was an ordinary school.  There was no dumbing-down.  These were certainly not professional musicians.  I
am still in touch with former Cirencester pupils for whom amateur
music-making is of the utmost importance in their lives, as is
concert-going – we made, of course, many excursions together to
concerts in London, Bath and the Cheltenham Festival.

 

I have discussed dumbing-down in politics, religion and art, rather than in music or music education.  This was purposeful, as I do not wish to tread on colleagues’ toes, but, by implication, I hope my gist is clear.

 

However, I would like to make some brief comments about my own subject.  As
I have pointed out, there are commercial pressures on composers and
musicians to conform – all too pervasive and convincing, in ways more
subtle than under Hitler or Mao.  Societies, and
groups within societies, become self-regulating, and even to express an
interest in types of music outwith that group’s concern – or, in
extreme cases, even to express an interest in any intellectual pursuit
whatever – can lead to a young person being ostracised, or even
threatened with physical violence.  So much for social inclusion and mobility.  This is primarily a matter for educational psychologists, and has been much discussed recently.

 

So
often we hear that classical music is per se elitist – that “ordinary”
people don’t need it – and that, therefore, teaching people to read,
sing and play music from the page at school is both unnecessary and
elitist, and that, above all, new classical music is absolutely unnecessary.  This
inverted snobbery would deny the working-class likes of Birtwistle and
me our free musical education, and there are thousands of us out there.  Enough said!

 

When
the idea of the St Magnus Festival was first mooted in Orkney in 1976,
it was pointed out that the “ordinary” people of Orkney didn’t need
such a thing, and that the whole idea was – guess what! – elitist:
there was ferocious opposition from the local press and from the
Islands Council.  It is now absolutely
successful, with sold-out performances of serious classical music,
including much new music, performed by local islanders and the best
artists, including symphony orchestra, from outwith the islands.  This St Magnus Festival has spawned Orkney folk, jazz, dance and science festivals, all equally successful.

 

I refuse to believe that young people cannot be musically, and in every other way, challenged by ideas.  My Royal Academy of Music students challenge me with ideas.  I
recently visited Portsmouth Grammar School, for which I am composing a
large work, and enjoyed, and learned much from discussion with some of
the young people who will be involved in very challenging new music.

 

Recently
I ran summer composition courses at Dartington in Devon and in Siena in
Tuscany, and was astonished at the quality and depth of discussion, and
the standards of new music produced.

 

I regularly write music for the school at home on Sanday, Orkney, and for the Sanday Fiddle Club.  There is no lack of standards there, and a real musical challenge is appreciated.

 

A
recent example in our musical world of an absolute capitulation to the
pressures of market forces was the Performing Right Society’s decision
to reduce revenues to composers performed on BBC Radio 3 by 50%,
representing a total refusal on the part of the PRS to recognise and
help sustain something of real cultural value.  This
is a most disturbing example of market forces striking a body blow at
our finest cultural institutions where it hurts most, and the money
involved, in comparison for what the PRS takes in for rock, pop, etc is
derisory.

 

This
decision makes all the difference to the incomes of classical composers
and their publishers, at a time when Britain’s classical composers lead
the world.  The PRS has failed its members
disastrously, and should be held up to the world as the Philistine,
short-sighted mass-market driven traitor it is.

 

Those
who decry classical music as elitist almost certainly don’t know it,
and are determined that their prejudiced be perpetuated by denying
others – particularly young people of their own background – the chance
to get to know it.  Particularly if your
education does not include the reading of musical script, your chances
of becoming involved and interested in music are much diminished, yet
one can hardly imagine any serious education in English or maths
without the learning of the associated scripts.  I
return to the fortunately failed Chinese proposal of the
nineteen-sixties – we cut off young people from a very rich and
fulfilling part of their rightful cultural heritage, if we deny them
the simple right to access, via the script.

 

Western
culture, including word, number and music, involves writing down, so
that things beyond the capacity of memory can be read and stored,
counted or performed.

 

Even
when some education officials accept that music has a place in
education, it is often because it is therapeutic, or improves social
skills, or enables a person to feel positive about themselves – yes, of
course it is valuable in all these ways, but music is, primarily, a
wonderful thing in itself.  There is a subtle
undertext – that to criticise shortcomings in any kind of presentation,
not only in things musical, undermines people’s belief in themselves,
and therefore must be avoided.  However,
constructive criticism, delivered sensitively, is very positive, and at
some stage, people have to learn to take well-meant and informed
criticism in a non-personal and adult way.  You cannot protect people from standards, and education should be about helping people achieve.  It
appears sometimes that real music, literature, science and religion are
considered too difficult, and we have to be protected from their impact
– by our education.

 

In
an age of commercial depravity and irresponsibility, where all of us
are affected by market values threatening our intelligence and
integrity at every turn, though it might not acknowledge it at present,
choked by greed, and cultural deafness and blindness, the world indeed
does need new classical music – to take and record its temperature, to
define its parameters, and to preserve its essence for us and for
future generations, helping us and our descendents to understand and
learn intellectually, emotionally and spiritually from our work on that
world’s behalf.

 

We must be open to learn, as composers, from all kinds of music.  Recently
I heard Paul McCartney entrance and enchant 46,000 people with a
sequence of magnificent songs, and with a most inventive backing group,
in Liverpool.  Recently, at the St Magnus
Festival, Orkney, we had the privilege of seeing and hearing singers
and drummers from Malawi – truly and inspiration.  Without
a deep study of Aboriginal music in Australia in the nineteen-sixties,
I could never have created the architecture of my orchestral music of
that period.  My university thesis was on classical Indian music.

 

It
is precisely the possibility of our classical music being created, or
even of existing at all, which we see the PRS, some education experts,
some public arts authorities, and people in government, working against
– this for the most high-sounding reasons, of course – so we must do
more than our best to demonstrate our intrinsic worth, by the quality,
relevance, and even the potential inclusiveness of our work.

 

I
have every confidence that we can more than cope with these challenges,
and that our music will rise through and above this disorientating
ruckus, like a Lark Ascending.