In last week’s blog we talked about the Rodney Dangerfield Syndrome in music – how professional musicians in today’s society “get no respect.”  The flip side is neither do amateurs – and this time we can’t blame society.  Those of us in the music business must look directly in the mirror to see who’s responsible for this phenomenon.

Maybe not as individuals – but in the music profession as a whole we place so much emphasis on virtuosity of performance that sometimes I think we heap shame on the amateur practice of music.  In effect, the message we send is “don’t try this at home.”

Virtuosity is of course a good thing, but it’s not the only thing.  Music-making was never meant to be a spectator sport, relegated solely to the virtuosic.

Every civilized society has possessed and honored its virtuosic musical masters, but I can’t think of another time and place in history where music-making has become as psychologically remote and inaccessible to the common folk as it has in our world today.  And we wonder why we have an issue with ticket sales.

How did this happen? 

Certainly the rise of recording technology is a major factor.  Sound recording didn’t become widespread until the invention of electrical recording equipment in the 1920s.  Before that, music was solely a live experience.  You either listened to it in concert or you made it yourself at home.

Flash forward 90 years.  Now music is generated not by sound waves but in digits.  It comes in WAV files and on circular discs of polycarbonate plastic.  The live experience of people scraping, rubbing, blowing and beating musical instruments without the intervention of electronic media is the exception, not the rule.  Virtual has replaced reality.

Only the biggest and best orchestras can afford to produce recordings regularly. These are scrubbed and flawless, sanded smooth until no trace of grit remains, produced in “takes” rather than real time. Orchestras hold up “artistic excellence” (I hate that phrase) as the sole professional Holy Grail worthy of pursuit –  and consequently the gulf between “artists” and the rest of us ordinary mortals is wider than it’s ever been.

Although lip service is still given to the value of arts education for children, most adults put away their instruments for good by the time they’re in college, or soon thereafter.  The fact that they used to be musicians is a closely guarded secret. 

People who used to play an instrument seem compelled to speak of it in self-deprecating terms:  “I used to play the violin, but I had zero talent for it”; “I didn’t have a musical bone in my body” – these are common statements.

One of my oldest friends, guitarist Mark Stewart of the new music ensemble Bang on a Can, has a knack for teaching people that they, too, can play.  He invites them to sit down at the piano, depress the damper pedal, and then quietly and lightly start playing – using only black keys.  Of course this means they’re playing in the lovely, exotic-sounding pentatonic scale – where virtually everything sounds good.

Naturally, if someone gets seriously interested in getting back into playing, they’ll soon exhaust the novelties of pentatonic harmony, but the point is you don’t have to be Van Cliburn before you’re allowed to touch a keyboard.

So go ahead and try this at home.  If you’re one of those people who used to play the piano (or insert instrument of choice) and you find yourself wishing you had never quit, then quit wishing!  Get one and sit down and make whatever music comes out.  It’s just organized sound, for goodness’ sake.  Nothing bad will happen if you hit an unintended note. 

And besides, maybe you’ll invent a new chord.