Since everyone else seems to be weighing in on this Joshua Bell thing I figure I might as well, too.
In my reading on performance theory, I came across the notion in Christopher Small's Musicking that architecture can influence and/or reinforce behavior. This is a seemingly obvious but very powerful idea. He mentions the increase in foyer size in the modern concert hall, because the socialization--the see and be seen--aspect of concert-going has all but superseded the music-listening aspect.
To that end, context is everything. Joshua Bell "belongs" in a concert hall. If we extract Joshua Bell from that context, we set up a whole different set of relationships between the "audience" and the performer. Bell even remarks:
"At a music hall, I'll get upset if someone coughs or if someone's cellphone goes off. But here, my expectations quickly diminished. I started to appreciate any acknowledgment, even a slight glance up. I was oddly grateful when someone threw in a dollar instead of change."
To put the shoe on the other foot, what if someone conducted an experiment where a busker got to perform in Carnegie Hall? Would anyone come to see him or her? Would the performance be any better because it's Carnegie Hall as opposed to Central Park? Would the busker feel self-conscious because people were focused on him/her, were not coughing, were not answering their cell phones?
I agree strongly with a point made later in the article by Mark Leithauser (a curator at the National Gallery):
"Let's say I took one of our more abstract masterpieces, say an Ellsworth Kelly, and removed it from its frame, marched it down the 52 steps that people walk up to get to the National Gallery, past the giant columns, and brought it into a restaurant. It's a $5 million painting. And it's one of those restaurants where there are pieces of original art for sale, by some industrious kids from the Corcoran School, and I hang that Kelly on the wall with a price tag of $150. No one is going to notice it. An art curator might look up and say: 'Hey, that looks a little like an Ellsworth Kelly. Please pass the salt.'" Leithauser's point is that we shouldn't be too ready to label the Metro passersby unsophisticated boobs. Context matters.
The notion that architecture influences behavior was also played out the other day when the lock on the door to the room in which I teach my harmony class was broken. We reconvened around a conference table in the student union. The class dynamic immediately changed from a me-versus-them (I generally stand in front of the class and they all sit in their desks facing me, the blackboard, and the piano) to a much more collegial, discussion-oriented class. Students that rarely speak up spoke up. I had to alter my teaching due to the lack of a piano and chalkboard.
To what extent is classical music context-sensitive? When is a performance not a performance? When is busking not busking? How does architecture govern our musical experiences?
In my reading on performance theory, I came across the notion in Christopher Small's Musicking that architecture can influence and/or reinforce behavior. This is a seemingly obvious but very powerful idea. He mentions the increase in foyer size in the modern concert hall, because the socialization--the see and be seen--aspect of concert-going has all but superseded the music-listening aspect.
To that end, context is everything. Joshua Bell "belongs" in a concert hall. If we extract Joshua Bell from that context, we set up a whole different set of relationships between the "audience" and the performer. Bell even remarks:
"At a music hall, I'll get upset if someone coughs or if someone's cellphone goes off. But here, my expectations quickly diminished. I started to appreciate any acknowledgment, even a slight glance up. I was oddly grateful when someone threw in a dollar instead of change."
To put the shoe on the other foot, what if someone conducted an experiment where a busker got to perform in Carnegie Hall? Would anyone come to see him or her? Would the performance be any better because it's Carnegie Hall as opposed to Central Park? Would the busker feel self-conscious because people were focused on him/her, were not coughing, were not answering their cell phones?
I agree strongly with a point made later in the article by Mark Leithauser (a curator at the National Gallery):
"Let's say I took one of our more abstract masterpieces, say an Ellsworth Kelly, and removed it from its frame, marched it down the 52 steps that people walk up to get to the National Gallery, past the giant columns, and brought it into a restaurant. It's a $5 million painting. And it's one of those restaurants where there are pieces of original art for sale, by some industrious kids from the Corcoran School, and I hang that Kelly on the wall with a price tag of $150. No one is going to notice it. An art curator might look up and say: 'Hey, that looks a little like an Ellsworth Kelly. Please pass the salt.'" Leithauser's point is that we shouldn't be too ready to label the Metro passersby unsophisticated boobs. Context matters.
The notion that architecture influences behavior was also played out the other day when the lock on the door to the room in which I teach my harmony class was broken. We reconvened around a conference table in the student union. The class dynamic immediately changed from a me-versus-them (I generally stand in front of the class and they all sit in their desks facing me, the blackboard, and the piano) to a much more collegial, discussion-oriented class. Students that rarely speak up spoke up. I had to alter my teaching due to the lack of a piano and chalkboard.
To what extent is classical music context-sensitive? When is a performance not a performance? When is busking not busking? How does architecture govern our musical experiences?