The Conversion of Active Music-Making to Passive Listening

Written by Camille Booth

Throughout the decades, musical genres have grown from classical western traditions to contemporary genres. By acknowledging this, we can begin to discuss Bowman’s views on the conversion of active music-making through performance to a more passive listening experience. Bowman tries to explain that music has morphed from communal participation to a commercialized product; created and distributed for economic benefit. Music has become a way to sell ideas and bring passive listeners to concerts rather than to promote musical exploration and participation. Bowman states, “gradually, socio-musical experience becomes de-ritualized” (Bowman, 1998, pg. 339). This de-ritualization is meant to expose the shifting nature of music consumption. In his view, music was meant to expose truths, promote protest and social change, express emotional burdens, and give emotional release to performers and listeners. Bowman further illustrates that “representational order is an order of specialized and hierarchical (superior-subordinate, bureaucratic) relationships, driven by commercial exchange” (Bowman, 1998, pg. 339). In other words, musical enjoyment is solely linked to record sales and vice versa.

Bowman believes that music has become “[an] increasingly specialized undertaking, [where] musicians become economically bound to powers whose legitimacy their labors are expected to affirm” (Bowman, 1998, pg. 339). Bowman is suggesting that musicians have become assets to music’s monetization efforts. Bowman further states that “musical execution becomes the domain of skilled performing specialists, and the primary responsibility of audiences becomes silent, appreciative consumption of the musical commodities specialist produce” (Bowman, 1998, pg. 339). Bowman argues that our concert culture has shifted in practice. At one time, people would participate with attendees, sing together, clap together, and experience together. Now, this shift in culture has turned into passive listening and careful watching without human connection. This distinct shift in ritual to representation shows the blockage of true social cohesion.

Perhaps within our western classical canon and musical traditions, we have stopped participating in musical culture. We now conform as a society built on strict rules and social norms. The audience conforms to rules of passive listening. There is no longer shouting, chanting, clapping along, or humming. While there is merit for this strict conformity of behaviors when listening to song cycles or movements within an orchestral piece, I think it is important for other genres to engage and encourage expressive audience behaviors. This ritualistic form is practiced when studying jazz performance culture, solo and improvisation, and can even be present in certain classical pieces. Radetzky March by Johann Strauss is a perfect example.

Another instance of audience participation is John Cage’s piece: 4:33. It is a completely silent piece with no written music. Cage, a modern experimental composer, uses sounds of the audience and the unique concert environment to tell the story that true silence does not exist and that one must tune into sounds and nature around them to become in tune with those around you. This piece invites audience members to listen to one another. To sync one’s breath, to cough freely, to shift in their chairs, encouraging the sound connection of human beings to the earth. This type of music is not meant for commercial purposes, rather for deep spiritual connection to people. These classical pieces were supposedly ritualistic in the way they encouraged audience participation, but were not heavily commercialized.

To dig deeper into the ritualistic representation of music, one must review the rituals of singing and chanting, which served a social purpose. Gregorian chant would be a perfect example of ritualistic representation. Chanting was intended to speak to the spirit of the Lord. Its purpose served to find deep meditative prayer and spiritual connection. It was meant to provide emotional balance. This liturgical practice was a social construct in the Catholic Church. It served a musical purpose. All participants engaged in this chant. While Gregorian chant still holds its power within the sacred tradition, many musical forms have lost its uniqueness in search of a more monetarily beneficial practice for the surface-level consumer. Bowman believes that our shared music-making, whether sacred or secular, has lost its representative meaning. It has become overly commercialized, therefore losing its intent, magic, and purpose.

One example where commercialism and lack of audience engagement intersect is through a performance I saw of the Icelandic Post-Rock group, Sigur Rós. Their music, in my opinion does not lean heavily commercial. Their harmonies and textures do not conform to many of the popular commercialized musical formulas. When I saw their performance, I noticed not a single person is out of their seats. Why? Is the idea to stay silent and be a passive audience member? Is that the expected norm? Or is this music perhaps not commercial enough to get people out of their seats to achieve some level of audience participation. Another example is Joe Hisaishi’s piece Merry Go Round of Life. This exquisite piece features breathtaking orchestral sections, coupled with the childhood memories of studio Ghibli Films. One cannot help themselves but to sit eagerly to await their favorite sections with a smile on their face. Does this count as participation? I believe so. Would Bowman agree? I’m not sure.

On the contrary, one can analyze Taylor Swift’s music. After taking a look at her son Enchanted from her Era’s Tour, soon into the performance, the camera pans to several audience members out of the seats, singing their hearts out. Is this because she has millions of fans who“love her music? Over her professional music career, her music has transitioned from country to pop seemingly exchanging creativity for commercial benefit. Her basic compositional structure has become so standardized and has made such a financial impact on the music industry that most, if not all new pop stars conform to this commercial composition structure seeking fame over originality. I suppose this music, albeit commercial, makes it easy and accessible for a wider audience to participate.

As a performer, it is important to acknowledge the process of music making has changed from a group activity to become a service of some external purpose or motivation. Sacred music is a very easy example of this. You collectively assemble for the service of God through Gregorian chant by participating in unison singing. No individual expression or harmony is present. The rise of secular music is a contrast to the pure religious use of music. As a modern performer it is important to be sensitive to the ways in which an audience member perceives the performance. People may look as though they are not participating in secular classical traditions, but I argue that they are, in their own unique or quiet ways.

In contrast, Taylor Swift’s music is highly commercial and highly ritualistic. Swift is a modern performer who needs to understand both ways of engaging in music making. In a ritualistic sense, she uses chants and communal singing in her performance to engage with her audience, and to sell her brand. She also must understand the commercialism of it in how to sell her records, what genre of music reaches most people, and what her listeners enjoy. It raises the question whether music requires audience participation in order to be considered good. If so, what does that look like? In my opinion, there seems to be a fine line between ritualistic representation of communal music-making in the sacred sense versus its commercialism in the secular sense. Or are these two concepts intrinsically linked?

References

Bowman, W. D. (1998). Philosophical perspectives of music. New York, NY: Oxford University Press.

Radetzky march: Why audiences clap along | WRO. (n.d.). https://www.wro.at/en/march-of-the-month-radetzky-march-july/

Impression and Symbiosis. (n.d.). 08 Merry Go Round – JOE HISAISHI & WORLD DREAM ORCHESTRA 2019. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aLm9nZM_5Xo

Lolimerlin’s Cabin. (n.d.). Taylor Swift – “Enchanted” 4K XDR | The Eras Tour (Taylor’s Version). YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWuE7Pgeujk

Langer: The Sonorous Image of Passage

Written by Camille Booth

Susanne Langer (1895–1985) was an American philosopher who made revolutionary contributions in the field of music philosophy. Langer claimed that, “music makes change perceivable, makes time audible, and creates a sonorous image of passage; but it is music’s special relationship to feeling that is its most significant value.” (Bowman, 1998, pg. 200). According to Langer, music’s purpose is not to make people feel emotions but to have music serve as a window into exploring and understanding greater human sensations.

Bowman states, “like rainbows, expressive forms are only given to perception” (Bowman, 1998, pg. 212). What does Bowman mean by this? If you look at a beautiful rainbow arching through the sky after a treacherous rainstorm, is it tangible? Does a rainbow actually symbolize the sunny days ahead or serve as a metaphor for happiness? Is it an individual’s unique perception of a rainbow that makes them feel happy? Is a rainbow the universal symbol for happiness? I argue, do rainbows actually physically make you feel joyous or is the rainbow a symbolic image for the human emotion of joy in order for us to make sense of this visual phenomenon?

From Langer’s philosophical perspective on music, it is believed a piece of music is not written to make someone simply feel sad or melancholy. Rather, the musical aesthetics, such as the ebb and flow of the melodic contour, the intentional use of the dynamics, and the intensity of the climax and resolution of a music’s sole purpose is to imitate the physical nature of human emotion and breadth.

Music’s physical nature involves the delicate touch of the piano keys, the subtle changes in the voice when switching between chest and head voice, and the artful phrasing of the text that guides the listener to perceive the music as melancholy, exhilarating, loss, grief, etc. Langer could argue that the use of a minor chord for example, does not necessarily denote sadness. Music goes much deeper than evoking a human emotion.

Taking a closer look at the specific message of the sonorous image of passage, one must break down the definition to make sense of it. Sonorous, an adjective, means “full or loud in sound, imposing or impressive in effect of style” (Merriam-Webster, n.d.). Langers’ use of the term serves as a musical framework. Image is “a mental conception […] a mental picture of [an] impression of something” _ (Merriam-Webster, n.d.). This ‘image’ is a representation of music’s figurative form. ‘Passage’ is “a continuous movement or flow” (Merriam-Webster, n.d.), meaning that it relates to the sonic architecture and passage of time in a person’s life. It denotes the concept of the map drawn from a human emotional experience.

This sonorous image of passage that Langer describes can be illustrated through Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Requiem Mass in D minor (K. 626) specifically, section III Sequentia: Lacrimosa. If you take a close look at the rhythmic structure in the Violin II part, it features syncopation, with the instrument parts entering on the ‘and’ or weak beats (1 and 3). This simple feature as it moves up in pitch, illustrates the expansion of the physical symptoms of grief. The initial sigh, the shed of the first tear, the sniffle, the heaving of the breath, that all leads to the buildup of more intense weeping. This compositional structure provides the sonorous image of the physical sensation of grief expressed through the shedding of tears. A requiem is used in the Roman Catholic Mass to honor the dead. The instrumental sections of the piece imitate the physical nature and image of those weeping for their loved ones. The interaction between the Violin I and II parts creates a tone painting of weeping and the melody and how it is written evokes a lamenting, wistful feeling. This is further emphasized by the rhythmic values and aesthetic phrasing in the choral sections. Let’s take a look at Langer’s discursive symbolism through the Requiem’s liturgical text:

Mozart uses a Latin text that explicitly states the theme: the loss of a loved one and the lamenting of those left behind. The presentational symbolism shows the universal expression of grief, loss, and longing as a human concept. With Langer’s perspective of music being the sonorous image of passage, Langer does not mean that music must be explicit in the sense that it is a sad piece, explicitly about the loss of a loved one. Whilst the discursive symbolism supports this, Langer believes the sonorous image of passage in this piece is meant to have the individual use this piece to understand their personal grief, in whichever form that may present. The expressive form of the piece has one looking at the bigger picture, the formal structure of the piece to show the symbolism of grief and human emotion rather than just the symptom of sadness.

Lacrimosa dies illa (Full of tears will be that day)

Qua resurget ex favilla (On which one more will rise from the ashes)

Donna eis requiem (Grant them rest)

Langer’s philosophical perspective of the sonorous image of passage is used to attempt to explain the unexplainable. Langer tries to describe why music provides so much meaning whilst being difficult to define. She uses this sonorous image of passage to find a link as to why music makes us feel the way it does and how it connects to the human ethos on a larger scale.

Types of Music Listening (ML)

Written by Miguel Marling

Author Note

I have no known conflict of interest to disclose.

Correspondence concerning this paper should be addressed to Miguel Marling.

Email: mmarling@gmu.edu

Orientation towards music listening (ML) stretches between two poles. On one extreme, ML can be passive exposure to the sound of music with no attention paid to it and no recollection of its content, or even presence. On the other extreme, ML can be fully engaging, even to the degree where the listener is the musician herself—creating and improvising in the moment! As students of music and music educators, it is important to discern for ourselves what ML should be. Should ML be energizing or calming, participatory or passive, solitary or social, abstract or socially situated, political or neutral, imitative or original? Is music made for listeners? Or do musicians create their art for its own sake, or just for themselves? Or just for money? To what degree must we be engaged with the music we hear? Or must we be engaged at all? For brevity, let us grant that music is an understood concept, and leave defining it to another forum. Let us also set aside the value of music. Rather, focusing on ML, we can consider Bowman’s (1998) presentation of Adorno’s views on types of listening in Philosophical Perspectives on Music.[1] The philosophical concept at hand is a prescriptive matter of what ML should be.

Explanation of ML

Bowman (1998) recounts that for Adorno ideal listeners are those who maintain full consciousness, miss nothing, and interact with what they hear. Listeners who hear structurally understand the concrete reality of music. Another kind of listener, the culture consumer, is less desirable and primarily seeks pleasure. They are knowledgeable about music but consider it to be a cultural asset above all. They maintain awareness and involvement as a matter of social standing. Emotional listeners, for Adorno, are those who seek safety from the rational world and see music as a vehicle for keeping their feelings alive. The worst group is that of entertainment listeners, and the worst among them are those who work with music playing. They are “enemies to structural listening through their desire for easy access and repeatability [that] create habits of passivity and effortlessness” (Bowman, 1998, p. 326). ML, then, needs to be conscientious, attentive with precision, and interactive. This means interest, focus, and responsiveness must be built into the ML experience.

Examples of ML

            So, what might ML be like on these different readings? Culture consumers listen to the radio, and likely whatever the most popular stations are for the genres they enjoy, which may themselves be determined by trends controlled by media conglomerates (so the story goes). Or, in parallel, consumer streaming culture members listen based on trends driven by general and personalized algorithms. Previous listening habits determine through probabilistic modeling what they will like given their sound palettes. ML for culture consumers is a set of technological wizardry that predicts what will be most pleasing, whatever one’s vibe. Many who work in trendy cafés or restaurants are consistently exposed to music which they generally ignore. Automaton office workers around the globe (this author included), especially with the prevalence of discreet earphones, move through their days mechanically with music droning on in the background. Students around the world listen to music while studying based on preselected preferences that they believe do not distract them.

ML is for some the demonstration of knowledge to be recognized as part of an in-group. For others, ML is emotional, something that distracts from particular thoughts and even consciousness entirely. Yet for others, the purpose of ML is to feel intense emotions, whether tear-jerking, adrenaline-rushing, rage-provoking, or peace-producing. While all of these are kinds of responses in their own right, they are not the kind of responses that Adorno attributes to serious ML.

Why ML Matters for Understanding Music

Guiding musicians, composers, and music educators through ML is critical to their individual understandings of music. Implicit in Adorno’s views as presented by Bowman (1998) is what music can become if listened to properly. However, even idealized ML is unlikely to be adopted by many, as Adorno concedes. This means that music educators must encourage, minimally, that distinctions between kinds of ML be drawn, along with emphasizing cautions against the consequences of each. Listening is not always a communal experience; a key insight of Adorno’s is his indication that the individual listener is responsible for the exchange that happens between music and self. In other words, it is of paramount importance that music educators both work toward idealized ML themselves and instruct others how to do so. If Adorno is right in cautioning against consumer culture and entertainment listening, musicians, composers, and music educators must champion the cause of enriching ML to be an engaged and interactive process that awakens and deepens consciousness. Future generations’ ML experience is in jeopardy as they are guided further away from critical listening by consumer streaming culture.

References

Bowman, W. D. (1998). Philosophical perspectives on music. New York: Oxford University Press.


[1] Portions of the content for this blog were adapted from a previous paper by Miguel Marling (2026), Master of Music Education (Jazz Emphasis) student at George Mason University, for an assignment in the class, Philosophy of Music Education.

The Commodification of Music and the Illusion of Choice

Written by Drew Martinez

Introduction 

Theodor W. Adorno, a German philosopher, was greatly concerned with the effect popular music was having on the listener. Adorno believed that pop music provided people with comfort and familiarity, especially during times of hardship. His work is mostly based on his experiences as an outside observer into American culture during his time spent in the US while exiled from his homeland. He argued that the commodification of popular music created a false sense of familiarity and comfort that discouraged critical thinking, making the audience more susceptible to propaganda, fascism, and whoever controls cultural production (Bowman, 318). 

Regressive Listening 

Regressive listening is the end result of having been completely taken over by the illusion of comfort provided by popular music. When an individual has become a regressive listener, they no longer think critically about the content they are purchasing or think too hard about the content of that work. Not because they don’t want to, but because they have become incapable of doing so. Popular music is designed to be as easy to consume as possible, it relies on familiar forms, familiar harmonic structure, and in some cases, familiar formulas that do not challenge the listener to pay attention. Resulting not just in comfort but in music that no longer needs to be actively listened to, that is, music that has been relegated to background noise that does not require any attention. (Bowman, 1998, pg. 318).

Commodification of Music  

The consumption of music for comfort is not just an issue of pop music. Adorno argues that any music made for entertainment is dedicated to selling comfort and profiting off familiarity. This issue goes beyond the lines of genre and taste, as a regressive listener is incapable of listening so intently to develop a sense of taste (Bowman, 1998, pg. 318). Instead, what they are latching on to are superficial non-musical associations to guide their preferences (e.g. aesthetic choices and social grouping). 

Since regressive listeners make their musical choices off non-musical associations, this means that popular music does not rely on quality or meaningful ideas to engage consumers. The value of music is replaced with the value of how consumable it can be (Bowman 319). For example, in classical music, albums and concerts are no longer centered on the music. Instead they are focused on superstar conductors and soloists, each with their signature pieces and repertoire. Turning these pieces into experiences and commodities that the listener does not want to miss out on. Resulting in people consuming the same music over and over again. Creating a cycle of familiarity that becomes difficult to break. What becomes familiar sells, and creates a higher demand for much of the same. This type of consumption is called musical fetishization. 

This fetishization leaves the listener with no other choice but to consume what is being sold to them. Eliminating the listener’s ability to exercise freedom of choice. (Bowman, 1998, pg. 319). Creating a class of people who do not think, do not question, and will mindlessly consume and agree with whatever is being sold to them. Having experienced the horrors of being a target of the Nazis, for his Jewish heritage and left-wing ideology, Adorno was very familiar with the dangers of a complicit and unthinking public. When people are not given the opportunity to think or are tricked into giving up their ability to think, their perspective narrows and their willingness to fight back withers away. 

A Modern Solution

Adorno compares the regressive listener to a “[Child who] again and again and with stubborn malice…demands the one dish they have once been served. (Bowman, 1998, pg. 320). He makes it clear that the regressive listener has lost their ability and stamina to listen critically and be uncomfortable. Their senses have been dulled by a steady diet of comfort and their awareness of their situation has been entirely removed, their freedom is surrendered and their sense of responsibility and resistance are compromised. 

Adorno believed that musicians and artists have a special mission and moral responsibility to stir up anxiety, fear, and provide insight to the catastrophe of our current situation to rudely awaken the masses. (Bowman, 1998, pg. 320). That only sounds and music that disrupted their expected structure and harmony and broke their sense of familiarity would be strong enough to break the illusion and wake the listener from their slumber. This is why Adorno believed that modern music was the key to awakening the regressive listener. 

He praised the atonal work of Arnold Schoenberg because of the stir he caused by breaking away from traditional notions of harmony. “The dullness of familiarity can only be overcome by dissonance. Dissonance challenges the illusion of comfort in the familiar and expected harmony.” (Bowman, 1998, pg. 319). The exposure to such shocking dissonance would be enough to shake the listener out of their illusion and back into their natural state of being. Where they would be able to regain their ability to listen and progress ever forwards towards the next step in human development. 

Conclusion 

While Adorno’s ideas might come across as extreme, the heart of his ideas focus around the freedom and integrity of the individual. When someone is force fed a diet of pop music, music that does not challenge the individual, their willingness to branch out and think critically about the world is greatly diminished. When that integrity and freedom is compromised, we become complacent and any threat to that illusion becomes an obstacle to keeping our perceived safety intact. Without the motivation to confront challenging ideas, we are willing to buy and sell familiarity in any way we can get our hands on it. Adorno recognized that this mindset made the general population susceptible to any ideology that would promise to provide comfort and familiarity and keep the status quo. A regressive listener’s inability to think critically about their situation would leave them no other option but to accept whatever is being sold to them. 

Adorno realized that the only way humans are able to grow and innovate is when we are willing to face challenging and uncomfortable situations. A willingness to accept the dissonance of music, or even more broadly of life, can help us break from the structures that hold humankind back from creating, growing, and progressing onwards. 

Nattiez: The Meaning(s) of Music

Written by Miguel Marling

Students of music performance, philosophy, and education (and philosophy of education) alike benefit from understanding the argumentative battlegrounds for establishing what music means. In the brief, three-part informational blog that follows, I will explain some core and pivotal concepts involved in understanding music’s meaning from the perspective of musicologist Jean-Jacques Nattiez. I will assume no prior knowledge and hope either to invite the reader into philosophical thinking, to welcome the reader back to considering familiar themes, or to add insight to an evolving topic. While I will channel and characterize Nattiez’s intuition, I hope my own philosophical voice will sound through. 

As a housekeeping matter, it is worth presenting some context. The musicologist and semiologist Jean-Jacques Nattiez based his account of musical meaning(s) on his broader semiology. He departed from the semiotics of his contemporaries, Susanne Langer (formalist and idealist) (Bowman, 1998; Peacocke, 2024) and Nelson Goodman (cognitivist, nominalist, relativist, and constructivist) (Bowman, 1998; Giovannelli, 2017). Langer was concerned in part with the formal aspects of symbolic logic and structures (her formalism) and in part with the mind and consciousness (her idealism). She was influenced by German idealism (Bowman, 1998) and held the view that symbols serve as vehicles for the conception of reality, of the patterns of human sentience, and of understanding. Symbols reflect our inner, felt lives, which music represents. They transform sensory impressions and enable time-relative thought. For Langer, musical experience educates us in feeling, which it refines, controls, and orders. Listeners gain through music a mental experience otherwise unattainable. Langer (as an idealist) does not focus on cultural-situatedness aligned with her view that we experience raw sense data that we organize from randomness and confusion and that we are unable to know the world as it really is.

For Goodman, our interest in, and use of, symbols to build (our conceptions of) worlds (his constructivism) is distinctly cognitive (his cognitivism) (Giovannelli, 2017). As a nominalist, Goodman rejected mathematical abstract objects based on intuition. The version of relativism Goodman holds is that people can be right and wrong about their conceptualization of world; when they are right, they have conceived of the actual world. For Goodman, rather than insight and access to realms of experience, symbols are tools for constructing and creating worlds (Bowman, 1998). Symbols exemplify, which means referring to features actually possessed by a thing. Symbolic activity, then, is the business of constructing reality and possible worlds through the mediation of perception and conception. Through intellectual curiosity, we use musical symbols to understand, their primary purpose being cognition itself, of which musical experience is a form. Music’s meaning is both historical and conventional, along with cultural habits (Goodman’s relativism). Musicians and listeners seek out musical experience not for fun, communication, or imaginative or intellectual enhancement. Rather, they are motivated purely by understanding. Listeners, on Goodman’s account, are best not to judge the excellence of works of art, as doing so is not the best way to understand them.

Philosophical Concept: Musical Meanings

While we’ve skimmed Langer’s and Goodman’s implicit takes on musical meanings, for Nattiez, cultural situatedness determines what counts as music, or noise, among musics. Particular eras and cultures privilege “certain attributes while ignoring, marginalizing, or neglecting others” (Bowman, 1998, p. 246). An empirical basis for determining a music-noise boundary does not exist, and conceptions of music even include non-sonorous features such as gestures and spontaneous interaction between participants. For Nattiez, music cannot be reduced to sonorous configurations within a culture or subculture. Attending to sounds themselves cannot serve to determine what is musical, and sociocultural contexts must be acknowledged as where poietic and esthesic processes are embedded. Individuals, groups, and cultures accept sonorities as music and the musical. Sustained in cultural context, music is for Nattiez whatever people recognize it to be, “…constrained only by sounds and… lived experience” (Bowman, 1998, p. 201). Noise, in turn, disturbs people, is unpleasant, or both. It is not similar to the message transmission or communication of language. While there is one absolute in Nattiez’s account of semiology—sound—his tripartitional model regards music’s nature and values as plural, dynamic, and relative in their construction of an autonomous domain of human experience.

Why Musical Meaning(s) Matter for Understanding Music

So, why does musical meaning matter for understanding music? When we make music, listen to music—and maybe when we teach music—we are in the sensory and thoughtful realm of recognizing time (and hopefully rhythm) (Langer) and conceiving of the world through symbols (Goodman). For Nattiez, culture plays a formative and foundational role in how we understand what we hear, or if dealing with the broader continuum of the musical, make noise, play music, use language, play games, dance, and interact socially (Bowman, 1998). Granted, social and cultural interactions inform our understanding. However, I would add to this that the musical is belting in the shower, raging at injustice, wailing at heartbreak, stammering in grief—with our voices or with instruments. While possible amongst others sorts, and in chorus even, these can be intimately and rigidly personal, never shared or known to others. Though culturally situated and habit-based, music and the musical can be outside of social interactions on my view, if yet socially informed. There is a certain relevance-tie that I do not find personally convincing—that is missing for me—between passage of time, world-making, and noise-music discernment and the necessity of others. Put plainly, I do not view that music and the musical depend on the presence or future presence of others, or on shared conceptions or experiences.

This allows for music to be an intimately personal and internal experience that could also allow for ideation and internal cognition absent sound. Nattiez’s account of noise might also have to allow its absence. And, by this, I do not mean to contrast with silence and space as sounds themselves, but music in one’s head. Our inklings—formalist, idealist, nominalist, cognitivist, constructivist, relativist, or whatever—will have bearing on how we conceive of music’s value to us and to others. That, in turn, will influence how we convey to those we teach music the meaning of music and how to understand it. What is required of us to learn to instruct, know about, prepare for, and move through in the case of music education rests on the foundation of our understanding of music and the musical. The paradigm for such music education presented by David Elliott and Marissa Silverman in Music Matters (2014) invokes a conception of education in, about, for, and through music. The breadth is that of experiences that can be understood as music, the musical (for Nattiez), and musicing (for Elliott and Silverman). When we seek to draw connections between musical meaning(s) and broader musical experience, it is critical that we consider purpose and intention as counterweights on a balance of instruction, practice, and performance.

A Musical Example-Application

What would it mean, then, to apply Nattiez’s view on musical meaning to musicianship or music education (on any of the accounts of music, the musical, or musicing)? Imagine a university music ensemble where students are presented with charts they are expected to read and learn, or a link to a sound file, streaming service, or video performance if they are not music-literate. Suppose that in familiarization with the piece, the composer, the musical era and genre, and any number of other elements—we were to ask some questions about musical meaning. The idea would be to both recognize and inform the culturally situated relevance of the importance of music in our students’ lives. We might ask, to channel Langer: How is your sense of time affected by listening to our playing this piece? As an echo of Goodman, we might ask: Where does this piece, listening to it or playing it, fit into your developing musical world? Finally, in tribute to Nattiez, we might ask: Is this noise to you, or music, and what makes that impression for you? How the piece is relevant and what ‘-ism’-traces become apparent are sure to enrich the teaching experience for us. Accompanying students along their musical-formative paths of exploration, and sharing a collective, lived experience is a gift. While, as I suggest, we can also appreciate what individuals might reserve for themselves, in their own worlds, we can take from examining Nattiez’s musical meaning(s), and challenging students to do the same, that enrichment through musical education is a necessary consequence of exploring the collective experience of understanding music (and the musical, and musicing).

References

Bowman, W. D. (1998). Philosophical perspectives on music. Oxford University Press.

Elliott, D. J., & Silverman, M. (2014). Music matters: A philosophy of music education (2nd ed.). Oxford University Press.

Giovannelli, A. (2017). Goodman’s aesthetics. In E. N. Zalta (Ed.), The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Fall 2017 Edition). Metaphysics Research Lab, Stanford University. https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/fall2017/entries/goodman-aesthetics/

Peacocke, A. (2024). Aesthetic experience. In E. N. Zalta & U. Nodelman (Eds.), The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Fall 2024 Edition). Metaphysics Research Lab, Stanford University. https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/fall2024/entries/aesthetic-experience/

Ravasio, M. (2025). History of Western philosophy of music: Antiquity to 1800. In E. N. Zalta & U. Nodelman (Eds.), The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Fall 2025 Edition). Metaphysics Research Lab, Stanford University. https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/fall2025/entries/hist-westphilmusic-to-1800/

Windle, P. (n.d.). Susanne K. Langer (1895-1985). Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Retrieved February 2, 2026, from https://iep.utm.edu/langer/

 Denoting – Representation is Interpretation 

Written by Drew Martinez

Goodman tells us that all symbols refer; otherwise, they cannot be symbols. Symbols help us make sense out of the world as we experience it. Symbols have the power to shape and change the realities all people are experiencing. One of the ways that we interact and interpret symbols is through denoting. 

Denoting involves referring to something but in a specific way. This could involve using things like names or reacting to street signs. Denoting is interpreting meaning that is attributed to a certain symbol. However, this can be rather difficult, as it raises questions about how meaning is applied to symbols (i.e., how symbols are interpreted). 

One of the ways that might seem to be most obvious is how much a symbol resembles what it represents. However, Goodman tells us that resemblance is not sufficient nor necessary for the purpose of representation. This is for a few reasons, the first is very clear when we take the example of a photograph and compare it to the subject of the photo. When we look at the image, even though it is a mirror copy of the subject, we as people know that these things are not the same. Therefore, resemblance is not a sufficient enough cause to interpret meaning. If resemblance was all we needed, humans would constantly find themselves being confused by representations and have a difficult time making a distinction between the represented and the representation when we already know they are not one and the same. 

If resemblance, or a perfect copy of something, is not enough to build meaningful interpretation or representation, how much of an item is required to be present for it to be a representation? This is also a difficult question to answer. Goodman has previously shown us that symbols are not perfect mirrors of reality because if they were, we would have a difficult time distinguishing between reality and the represented. If we cannot have or experience a perfect copy of reality, what are we experiencing? 

Goodman makes reference to our own eyes to try and provide an answer to this question. When we look at something, we are gathering information and immediately start to build an understanding based off what we see. The perceived information we are receiving is then organized, discriminated, associated, and it is constructed and made sense of. When we look at and experience things, we are already not taking in the full picture. Rather, we are taking information through our own bias and interpreting it based off the worldviews and ideas that we have deemed important. Goodman tells us that the idea of an ‘innocent eye’ that just passively takes in all information perfectly is absurd and impossible. So, depicting and describing is not a matter of copying but rather one of interpreting. Goodman then leads us into this conclusion, that symbols and meaning assigned to those symbols are all ways that we can interpret and construct reality, rather than being a mirror image of what reality is. 

What does this mean for music? 

This is important for music, as it tells us that music doesn’t feel or sound a certain way because it resembles or is a mirror for certain feelings or emotions. Rather, the shape and form music takes can provide us with a structure to organize and frame our experiences into meaning. These forms give us a space to interpret music reality rather than act as a reflection for the emotional meanings we are attributing to them 

Nattiez: The Tripartition

Written by Kimberlie Fair

Have you ever been to a performance and heard a piece of music that completely captures you? Your eyes fill with tears; your breathing becomes uneven. Something in the music has deeply moved you. At the same time, you look at your companion, and they appear to be untouched. Or maybe you’re sight-reading a new piece of music and as you play, something about the piece draws you in, and you are compelled to find a way to master the piece. What is going on?  

How meaning is shared between those who create music and those who play or listen to music has been explored by Jean-Jacques Nattiez, a leading theorist in the semiology of music (Pryer, 1996). His semiology, or the study of how meaning is communicated or created, describes a pathway of meaning from those who create to those who receive that is uniquely situated and deeply personal. 

According to Nattiez (Bowman, 1998), meaning arises through the interactions of three dimensions: the poietic, the immanent, and the esthesic.  

The first dimension is the poietic process of creating an object. In this process, a musician uses musical elements to create an object. For example, a composer may consider instrumentation, melody, harmony, dynamics, and tempo as they craft a new piece of music. Using these tools, the composer creates work that resides on a printed score. 

The second dimension in the process is called the immanent level. This level is entirely contained in the created object. In our example, the created object would be the musical score. Clues to the intentions, skills, and experience of the artist become part of the score. Nattiez refers to the clues left by the creative process as the trace. The immanent level is a neutral part of the creation of meaning because the trace cannot have meaning until it is interpreted. 

The final dimension in the process is known as the esthesic level. Here is where meaning is given to the trace by the one who receives the object. Whether or not the intentions of the creator are received by the user is entirely dependent upon the overlap of life experience that the creator and the user bring to the object. In our example, the meaning is lost if the score contains references to another piece of music and the instrumentalist is unaware of the point of reference. At the same time, the instrumentalist may find meaning in features of the trace that are unknown or untended by the composer. The instrumentalist’s experience determines what meaning they draw from the trace. 

So, while the composer and the instrumentalist are joined by the score, the meaning for the composer is shaped by their experience, and the meaning for the instrumentalist is equally determined by the unique experiences they bring to the realization of the score. The vast possible life experiences that both the composer and the instrumentalist bring to the process indicates that ultimately there are infinite potential relationships between the composer and the instrumentalist. It also means that there can be no single definitive meaning.  

So, when we are moved by a piece of music, the experience must be unique and personal. It is, after all, our lived experience that determines the depth of our understanding. 

Bowman, Wayne D. (1998). Philosophical Perspectives on Music. Oxford University Press. 

Pryer, A. (1996). Nattiez’s “Music and Discourse”: Situating the Philosophy [Review of Music and Discourse: Toward a Semiology of Music, by J.-J. Nattiez]. Music Analysis15(1), 101–116. https://doi.org/10.2307/854172 

Ritual Music and Liturgy

Written by Melanie St. Cyr

Ritual music in Christian liturgy has been debated since the dawn of the church. Debates have taken place over chant, polyphony, instrumentation, and style of music. The intensity of these debates provide evidence to support Plato’s idea that music has the power to transform political and social order (Bowman, 1998.) Music has always yielded power in the church, and because of this power, it has remained the focus for centuries.

What type of style of music should be used in liturgy? While this answer is far from simple, St. Thomas Aquinas provided some guidance that can be used to justify what type of music is best for ritual or liturgy. In his Summa Theologica, he articulates three components of beauty. The first is integritas or integrity. In order for things to be considered beautiful, they must be what they claim to be. Music in liturgy has a specific purpose at a specific time and must be carefully crafted and composed to fulfil a specific purpose. If a song cannot serve its purpose in liturgy, it simply cannot be used. The second criteria for beauty is consonantia- harmony, proportion, or composition. The music must be in concert with the capability of the musicians, the aesthetic and size of the building, and match the pageantry of the service. The final criterion for beauty is claritas: charity, radiance or intelligibility. The music must also be played on the appropriate instrumentation. Music must be singable by both the musicians and the congregation if it is intended to be sung in community and must be seasonally appropriate according to the liturgical calendar.

I believe that acknowledging the power that music has in enforcing appropriate societal rules combined with St. Thomas Aquinas’ criteria for beauty provides some relief for the ritual/liturgical music debate in the church. Perhaps different communities, even within the same theological beliefs, disagree about ritual music because they have different community needs. What is clear and proportionate for one community would be in stark contrast for another. Should guitars and drums be used or more traditional instruments like the piano or organ? The answer could lie in the architecture of the building. Does the church look traditional? If it does, I believe St. Thomas would suggest using more traditional instrumentation. Is the building more modern? Perhaps a more modern building would be conducive to more modern music and instruments. If the church looks are not specific, then proportionality can be decided by median age of the congregation, age of the church itself, or the aesthetic of the community surrounding the church. If the three criteria for beauty are not met, the music could be seen as more noise than an aid in worship.

The Catholic mass provides an example of the social order prescribed by the liturgy and reinforced by the music. The music in the mass follows an order and purpose. The parts of the mass that are frequently sung are:

Processional Hymn

Kyrie

Gloria

Responsorial Psalm

Presentation Hymn

Credo

Sanctus

Agnus Dei

Communion Hymns

Recessional Hymn

While I won’t dissect the mass, I will suggest the purposeful order lays a foundation for the music used in ritual. For example, the processional hymn serves two distinct purposes. People who are in servant roles during the mass proceed in from the back of the church to the altar. This procession includes priests, deacons, and lectors. This clearly establishes the social order of the mass. The lyrics of processional hymns use inclusive language to celebrate, prepare, challenge, and remind the congregation of the power and majesty of God. The five parts of the mass ordinary (Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, Agnus Dei) have the same text in every Catholic Church throughout the world. These mass parts are often sung in either Latin or the vernacular language. The order was established with the Council of Trent in 1570. For centuries, Catholics have used this order for worship in the mass. Communion hymns are meditative and prayerful with slower tempos, often with many verses to provide sung prayer for all to receive communion. Recessional hymns follow the reverse of the procession at the beginning of the mass. Recessional hymns also serve two purposes. The congregation sings of gratitude and praise, and they remain in their places until the priest has left the altar. Again, music is used to reinforce and guide social and liturgical expectations.

Ritual music should be beautiful and purposeful. How exactly to define purpose and beauty has been the catalyst for countless debates since beauty is in the eye of the beholder (Carney, 2022).

References

Bowman, W. D. (1998). Philosophical perspectives on music. New York: Oxford University Press

Carney, J. (2022, January 12). What makes for good liturgical music? St. Thomas Aquinas has 3 criteria for what works at Mass. America Magazine. https://www.americamagazine.org/faith/2022/01/12/aquinas-liturgical-music-beauty-242097

The Role of Modern Music

Written by Matthew Zavitz

The purpose of this blog is to consider Theodor W. Adorno’s (1903-1969) ideas concerning the role of modern music. This is quite a broad topic, so I will limit my discussion to three aspects of Adorno’s thought and historical context, with some of my own thoughts about how they might apply (and/or not apply) to our contemporary American musical culture: 1) the critical historicity of Adorno’s thought, 2) the reification/commodification of popular music under the culture industry, and 3) the need for autonomous music as a mode of resistance against 2). I will then conclude with some brief thoughts.

It is somewhat striking to think that Adorno fled Nazi Germany only to be equally (or at least comparably) horrified by what he found in America. This feeling of surprise quickly turns into anxiety, however, when one understands that his horror was well-founded; because what he came to see in America was but a short step away from the tyranny that he witnessed in his own country, albeit in a different form. The lack of freedom persisted: instead of an authoritarian and fascistic leader, there existed a culture industry sapping all that was good and true from nearly every aspect of existence by flooding it with anything and everything that was conducive to mindless consumption and obeyance to the forces of the market; and nowhere was this more apparent, he thought, than in what had become of music.

Quite rare was the phenomenon of people experiencing the joy of playing music in their own homes. On the equally rare occasion that people went to see live music, the music itself pandered either to bourgeois practices of self-congratulations or the enrapturement of the masses through the commodification of the idea of the star. No longer was music a source from which to drink and thereby contemplate one’s place in the world, a source of empowerment and communion. On the contrary, music had become something that was packaged, sold, and consumed on-the-go like hotdogs or S.P.A.M. It was blared through cheap speakers at gas stations, on elevators, in people’s cars—always in the background, rarely even noticed. Whenever and wherever people actually listened to music attentively, it was for the purpose of pure enjoyment, as an escape from reality, a fetish. This is to say nothing of the music itself: cheap, formulaic, smutty, endlessly refashioned and recycled tropes with little to no individuality. Or else it was held on high as “classics” or greats, but even these were esteemed as such because of their capacity to soothe, entertain, and/or pacify (not to mention make the elite believe that they were somehow higher or more ‘in the know’ than the masses).

What was needed, Adorno concluded, was an autonomous music, one that was not corrupted by the constant invasion of life proliferated by profiteering and moneygrubbing capitalists and eagerly consumed by their laborers. A truly avant-garde music would be one which refused to submit to appealability, establish itself as resistant to this invasion and dare to be beholden to no one. Music such the compositions of Arnold Schoenberg (1874-1951), Adorno thought. Schonberg’s music successfully evaded being infiltrated by the culture industry through defying any previous or present traditions of tonality, structure, and popular aesthetic expectations. Refusing to succumb to popular demand for predictability and easy listening, Schoenberg’s compositions demanded his listener to be fully immersed in each moment of passage, to concentrate and be aware of the fact that they are indeed listening to music rather than merely utilizing it as a source of accompaniment for their predestined lives of labor and consumption. Schoenberg’s music has no beginning, center, or conclusion, nor does it possess melodies or phrases. In a sense, Schoenberg made his music to be disruptive and painful, a contrast to the culture industry’s endlessly recycled methods of social streamlining and conditioning.

It is fair enough to say that, were Adorno with us today, he would be even more horrified, particularly in regard to the advent of A.I. music generators (AIMG). Severing the tie between the skilled composer and the work, the masses can now simply type in whatever combination of tropes they want and out pops a composition. Not only do AIMGs rely upon recycled and standardized genres and song structures for their generated content, but little to no thought needs to be put into composing. Everything is predetermined, packaged, and ready to go, just waiting for the next consumer to decide what combination of styles soothes him most, and punch it into the AIMG. Nothing would be more blasphemous for Adorno.

Music’s Social Significance

Written by Shannon Lundin

Theodor Adorno (1903-1969) felt strongly that music had the power to alter social consciousness. In his philosophical opinion, “good” and truly “modern” music would do just that by challenging standardization and habitual listening. It develops the audience’s ability to think critically. On the other hand, so-called “cheap” and “regressive” music panders to what is in fashion or popular. The effects of regressive music can range from simply being mindless and repetitive to enforcing complacency and eventual domination. Not only does music have the power to alter social consciousness, but Adorno believed it had the obligation to do so.

Reflecting on the fact that Adorno was a German citizen living through the age of World War II and the rise of Hitler, it is not hard to see how these opinions arose. He viewed music as both an instrument of propaganda, but also as a way to subvert it. He was concerned with society’s penchant for passivity and conformity. Adorno suggested that individual autonomy, authenticity, and going against conventions should be the deciding factors in what is considered good music and not deemed so by what the market says is profitable. In Adorno’s opinion, Schoenberg was an excellent example of good, modern music. He viewed his atonal works as true subversion. Not just of tonality, but also totalizing influences. By challenging the concept that tonality is necessary, Adorno felt Schoenberg criticized what had been popular historically over centuries. 

One difficult part of Adorno’s theories is the double standard he appears to hold towards music. He expected music to be a tool to awaken social consciousness and yet criticized any easily communicable music. The mere idea that something becomes widespread would negate music from fulfilling its obligation. It is difficult to think of music powerful enough to alter societal consciousness without being far-reaching.

As Adorno lived into the 1960s, it is interesting to hear his thoughts regarding the counter-culture movement and protest songs coming out of America during this time. Although written in the popular style he criticizes, the lyrics and messages within songs such as “Fortunate Son” by Creedence Clearwater Revival, “What’s Going On” by Marvin Gaye, and many others during this time clearly made an impact on society. That has to count for something to Adorno, right? Upon first consideration, it may be easy to think that Adorno would view these musical works as good rather than cheap music. After all, it empowered many Americans to participate in protest and vocalize dissent. However, as explained in an Open Culture article, Adorno claimed that these songs commodify war. Due to their connection to popular culture, they cannot fulfill music’s obligation to alter social consciousness. Additionally, due to these songs’ widespread success with the masses and standardized compositional formulas, he thought the messages they attempted to portray were minimized. 

Were Adorno alive today, his views of recent cultural anthems such as “Born This Way” by Lady Gaga, “This Is America” by Childish Gambino, and “Pink Pony Club” by Chappell Roan would probably be similar to the protest songs of the Vietnam War era. To put it in another way, Adorno seems to suggest these songs might even romanticize the issues at hand. In fact, Adorno disapproved of music that intentionally tries to build community or unify people. He believed it creates false comfort. Whether or not one agrees with Adorno, it is intriguing to consider his philosophy. By simply being composed in a certain style, gaining popularity, and therefore becoming marketable, do these songs automatically lose their meanings? 

References

Bowman, Wayne D. Philosophical Perspectives on Music, pp. 311-317. New York, Oxford University Press, 1998.

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