Modern culture seems to have determined that music should be subject to competition. In our society, where people are valued according to their ability to out-run, out-earn, or out-spend others, there is a growing effort to make music another activity in which a score is kept. This is cheapening the musical efforts of amateurs and professionals, students and teachers, rejoicers and mourners.
In my profession of church music, some ministers and their congregations have concluded that the reliable sign of God's favor will be evident in the victory over other congregations in numerical competition. The drive to attract more parishioners has led to all sorts of decisions about the church's activities, and one of those decisions has been that music can be used to draw people into the church. Consequently, the church's music has grown to have greater and greater stylistic resemblance to popular secular music. Those of us who are committed to a more formal and classical approach inevitably engage in arguments about appropriate style, and are met with arguments about the church's desire to "reach out" to the community. I have concluded that the "style" argument is fruitless and misguided. I think the appropriate discussion should revolve around the possibilities presented by the musical art. For those who desire to express their profound longing for God, music offers an opportunity for deeper and more meaningful expression. To limit a church's music to being used as a competitive technique shortchanges its possibilities.
In the worlds of high school and college music, you can easily see how many schools are using their musical ensembles as they do their athletic teams. They learn repertoire that will give them a competitive advantage, and go to competitions seeking to defeat the ensembles of other schools, or perform at conventions where they can be judged to be among the "best" ensembles. While this strategy can have positive impacts on enrollment and recognition, it is a shame when students graduate without a grasp of the breadth of repertoire available, or without ever having spent enough time in discussion of form, historical context or textual significance. Performances that are all about dazzling technique, while neglecting deeper understandings would seem to have a closer resemblance to the oldest profession than to the oldest art.
I believe that a strong case can be made for the instrinsic value of musical expression and understanding. It is worthwhile for the performers and audiences of our society to encounter music at its deepest levels. In our current habits of texting and channel-surfing, a great benefit could be derived from slow, rigorous, thorough and life-long pursuit of musical communication. Palestrina's "Sicut Cervus", Bach's "Dona nobis pacem", Mozart's "Et incarnatus est", Brahms' "Lass Dich Nur Nichts Nicht Dauren", and Thompson's "Alleluia" all have something beyond words to offer, but it cannot be attained while in the pursuit of beating other artists. It would improve our world if we insisted that art be restored to its appropriate aesthetic place, where children were nurtured in it, and adults embraced its depth of expression.
When each generation passes, the efforts of its artists remain for future generations. When we seek to enlarge our understanding by looking back at Mozart, Bach or Brahms, we don't ask about the trophies or prizes they won, or the other composers they bested in competition. We delve into their compositional hearts, and our own hearts are changed. We owe it to our own generation to forego the desire to compete, and let our own musical expression become the best communication of our true hearts.
