In an effort to legitimize music education through “facts,” scientists set out to prove the intellectual, emotional, and even physical benefits of participation in music experiences. Rather than trust that the organized sound that accompanied humankind from the beginning had in it some inherent strengths, figures and statistics assuage policy makers. And once numbers get involved, we get interpretations of data and initiatives that lead to a plethora of potential truths and obvious misconceptions about what music is and what it does for the everyday person.

And thus Baby Mozart was born.

Infants who listen to classical music may become smarter and more emotionally mature. This would be a wonderful result of the sonic art form that has intrigued our forebears for countless generations. But when do children listen to Baby Mozart? Parents often use the music to put their children to bed. And if not, the music is administered in doses as if a supplement to the anxiety-ridden broccoli-feeding and diaper change. In my family, Baby Mozart was the new age music from the early 1990s. I later learned that my father used them because he believed they were so boring they would put anyone to sleep. Does this translate over to the treatment of classical music at-large?

I had two completely different experiences with classical music as a child. The first were recordings of Bernstein conducting Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet, Marche Slav, and the 1812 Overture. Also in the room was a CD of Mozart’s Symphonies 40 and 41. These energized me, akin to the Sound Test options on Super Nintendo videos games, which conveniently played atmospheric or intense music on endless loop. These experiences likely drew me towards music-making.

Then, there were the dreaded CDs titled “Meditations.” Six volumes of the most bland moments of classical music history were obviously intended to knock one out or at least nullify the mind. And then that famous CD Chant . I tried many times, even as a child, to survive that CD to secure some form of personal musical depth. As cited by Wikipedia, “it was strongly marketed as an antidote to the stress of modern life.” I actively work against achieving this Meditation CD status.

How do the majority of people perceive classical music today? Is the orchestral hall a place of liveliness or is it an extension of the fuzzy reclining chair in the living room? And if it is a place that people envision falling asleep, why would the average person spend money and time to attend? To many, the perception of classical music is that it is simply boring. And concert programmers have a knack of feeding into this stereotype without realizing it.

To gain young audiences at concert halls, the concert experience should feel lively. The real Mozart felt this excitement in his day as he traveled from place to place. The 1780s were an unusually active time for music throughout Europe and especially in Vienna. He marveled to his father about amazing performances and complained about dull ones. Mozart especially loved the new technologies in music. The piano was relatively new technology, and instrument makers continued to finesse its sound during his lifetime. Mozart also loved the inventive basset horn, which soon after became the clarinet. The time also saw an increase in size and accessibility of performing groups. The orchestras, typically reserved for the court, entered the public square as part of the Enlightenment. The Mannheim Orchestra specialized in creating magnificent rushes through intense, long crescendos. And Mozart did not only involve himself in music but collaborated with theater, poetry, and visual arts through his operas. Though opera was already a longstanding tradition, Mozart revolutionized the art form by bringing the energy of his time into something that had become stiff on the one end or cheesy on the other. He also merged the musics of Italy, France, and Germany into his sound to form a cosmopolitan vibe. These circumstances and activities came together to create an exciting atmosphere from which the famous Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven rose to prominence and bore out a lasting legacy.

So, shall we bring back more music from Mozart’s time period and recreate this fervor? Surely Mozart would roll in his grave at such a suggestion! While the great composer looked back to find inspiration, he and his contemporaries did not believe in preservation projects. But we can certainly learn from him. Four major focal points came together in that day that also seem to be the best received in our day as well. First, technology cannot be ignored. Electronics do things that purely acoustic instruments cannot. Even with one microphone channeling an instrument’s sound, a new sonic world can be explored. One of the greatest trends in contemporary classical music is the use of software, especially interactive digital technology to create music. Second, theatricality and interdisciplinary work takes music to a higher plane. Opera is in the process of a major revival because it provides a multi-sensory experience. Important new music ensembles, such as Eighth Blackbird, include a visual or staged component to their work. Dance collaborations are particularly welcome. Third, genre plurality and diversity create a more relevant and comprehensible music. To completely ignore the access we have to music throughout the world and to dismiss the popular idioms of today as points of dialogue in classical music ignores the almost constant strain of external influences that fuel the art form. The most important artists had a way of bringing many forms and styles together to create a new path. And fourth, a recontextualization of past styles; in other words, an acknowledgement and play on tradition, seemed to be essential to the First Viennese School. Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven all have a sense of humor in their music as they look to the past, and we have so much more history to deal with.

This last point brings the great caveat: we recontextualize the past, and we do not live there. The current state of music is, in effect, proof of its death. Orchestras that play 90% repertoire from before 1900 are like the rare stumbling on a live website last updated in the 1990s. It is fascinating, curious, and nostalgic, but the average person will not visit the site ever again. Music written hundreds of years ago does not carry the same relevance as music written today. A living art form would include 90% repertoire from after 1990, and museums would take in the rest. The museum orchestra would play Mozart, Haydn, and Beethoven. It would also play Rimsky-Korsakov, Tchaikovsky, Stravinsky, Schoenberg, Xenakis, Cage, Takemitsu, Berio, La Monte Young, Milton Babbitt, and Pierre Boulez as pieces of a distant history. What then is there to listen to—even the edgy avant-garde music is irrelevant?! That is the serious discussion to be had to maintain a living, thriving, and relevant art form. More next time…

In the early days of psychology, two opposing views of the world emerged, gestaltism and structuralism. Structuralists theorized that we perceive things in pieces that come together to form a whole. Gestalt thinkers believed (and many still believe) that a complete object is perceived different than its parts. Some Gestalt psychologists were able to prove that the brain indeed processed an entire event in a way that superseded its parts through optical illusions. To put it differently, one can create something that transcends its parts.

Musicians have been long fascinated with the transcendental experience. Stemming from a religious tradition, classical music has its roots in a yearning for something greater than a group of choir boys and later horse hair over gut strings. But even at a more fundamental level, the brain processes music as a Gestalt experience. How does the brain know that the steps of a scale go together? There are infinite notes between each half step, yet the mind only chooses certain frequency distances to qualify as a step. Something smaller sounds like the same note detuned, and something larger sounds like what we call a leap. How does the brain decide to process notes sounding together as chords and the simultaneous movements between chords as a such thing as “progression?” How can music sound like it is going anywhere at all without the aural illusion of movement from one place to another? We take these premises as granted, and we excel in playing different scales and forming harmonic progress through which the brain can create something much more than the independent notes played.

A composer does so much more than manipulate pitch for the transcendental experience. Music flows through time, and the composer uses rhythm and meter to create different expectations or groupings for the mind that give complexity and flow to the music. Different combinations of instruments and tone colors create illusions of continuity or freshness. Many modern composers focus on gestural writing, by which a mixture of rhythms, pitch events, and instruments are fashioned to create one sonic idea with its own character and nuance (which is then developed in transformations).

What happens if a composer decides to extend this idea to styles? Popular musicians like to explore fusion genres such as trip hop, bossa nova, country rap, gypsy punk, and reggaeton. The combination of two former genres comes together in a new sound, audibly influenced yet independent from its parts. Concert music composers have a history of fusing styles together to either be part of a new sound, make something fresh, or to invoke the mystery of a culture they did not understand (whether they cared to understand might be a different story…). However, with the influence of postmodernim, mixing many cultural styles together to create their work of art, including those of popular music, is normative and well-accepted today. Countless compositions in the 20th century bring in a dosage of jazz harmony and rhythms into their music, and quite a few current composers are mixing elements of EDM and metal into their sound. Others reach to the past, reinterpreting principles from Medieval music or reach across the world to other music cultures, such as India’s raga tradition or Balinese gamelan and even write for the instruments of that culture (and again, the subject of cultural sensitivity is a different topic). The combinations and possibilities are endless.

The results of sonic combinations, mixed with their cultural implications, create a rich tapestry of meaning and freshness to contemporary music. And living composers have the opportunity to develop a contemporary voice with the sounds that inhabit the present as well as connect to the age-old tradition. Rather than have many mangled medleys or exotic stereotypes, we have aural alloys that speak to the increasing global interactions we have as we come to understand and have an intercultural dialogue. Those of diverse cultures can and do blend their traditions with the ever-loosely defined Western music tradition that seems to accept more and more cultural variety in its reach. Perhaps we will arrive at a point where we acknowledge that while much of the influence of concert music comes from a Western tradition it ultimately transcends its past. But we have much learning to do of the cultures around us before we can confidently accept this task. Until then, we joyfully take the best we see to make something powerful and interesting.