"If a great musician plays great music but no one hears . . . Was he really any good?
It's an old epistemological debate, older, actually, than the koan about the tree in the forest. Plato weighed in on it, and philosophers for two millennia afterward: What is beauty? Is it a measurable fact (Gottfried Leibniz), or merely an opinion (David Hume), or is it a little of each, colored by the immediate state of mind of the observer (Immanuel Kant)?"
Me, I think beauty is real, but it is something too fine to be measure mechanically, which is also why it engenders so much discussion.
The article linked to above is long, but excellent. Here's a comment to it:
The test of Joshua Bell's impact was not fair: the audience for classical music is very small, for one thing.
1: If the commuters had consisted only of people who regularly listens to classical music, how would it have changed the reaction?
2: If the musician had been Kenny G singing, instead?
3: If the show had been in a park on a Sunday?
I think all those scenarios change the picture radically, and would show that people do indeed have time for art.
A busker (street performer) with a blog (why not!) has this to say.
8 comments:
The experiment with Joshua Bell and the idea for the article was fun, but clearly the writer hasn't got the faintest clue about social psychology --- meaning not knowing diddly about it.
The artistical quality of the performance has very little to do with people's willingness to reward a street performer -- with money or time. If that was all that mattered you could probably play records from a good hi-fi system and laugh your way to the bank.
Instead what matters is the principle of reciprocity. The performer who will make most (in attention and money) is the one who will appear to do her damnest to please the passers by. Regardless of whether she can actually play. And regardless of whether she is using a Stradivari as her instrument or, say, kitchen utencils.
I once watched a street performer stick a burning torch in his trousers and have it exit from one leg still burning. As an important detail, before the stunt, he made it clear that he had nothing underneath. He must have experimented refining his act a long time to come to realise that this is the kind of stunt that triggers reciprocity. After all, here he was visibly endangering something most precious to him in order to entertain his audience. He was literally trading pubic hair for money. :-)
Similarly, in music performances the ones that work best are the kind where the performer plays many instruments at the same time. (Hi-hat on one leg, kick drum on another, and perhaps two wind instruments, one on each hand.) It's only a trick, but it at least looks like the performer is giving his all.
In contrast, a joshua bell playing a fine violin looks effortless and distant. Besides, someone with that kind of skill must have studied in Juliard, come from an upper class family etc. Many less well off passers by probably felt its the player who should be giving them money!
----
I'll leave it as an exercise to the reader why people pay $100 per seat to listen to a joshua bell when the concert is advertised in advance and held in a concert hall. What psychological principles are in play there?
There is a great response to the Joshua Bell article by a NYC subway musician in her blog: www.SawLady.com/blog
She interprets the situation differently from the Washington Post reporters... I thought you might find it interesting.
"I'll leave it as an exercise to the reader why people pay $100 per seat to listen to a joshua bell"
I think they feel they are experiencing something rarefied and valuable.
"I think they feel they are experiencing something rarefied and valuable."
That's how I also see it.
We can further ponder where the belief of rarity, or scarcity, comes from. Perhaps from the fact that there's only that one concert by that artist in our city? Perhaps even from the limited number of seats in the auditorium? Or the limited number of good seats!
What then makes us believe the experience is valuable? I think this is largely due to what's known as 'social proof'. We think it is valuable because other people say so. Psychological experiments tell us that social proof weights heavily even after we have formed our own opinion about the subject. (This is a bit embarassing to know.)
Sadly, beauty probably does not have much to do with this at all. After all, to experience beauty we wouldn't necessarily have to go anywhere. Or, if beauty was all we were after, we could at least experience it much cheaper than $100. (For example by listening to a fiddler play in the subway station. :-)
Finally, people do also go to concerts for social reasons (mating etc.) Visiting expensive events gives the opportunity to mingle with people who are succesful or from upper class background.
That 'social proof' idea is interesting. (Have you studied psychology?).
It's rampant in some circles. See "Frasier". :)
But like you say, embarrassingly we all have some.
Eolake, I have. (Not nearly as much as Pascal, I'm sure. :-) I have never watched Frasier. Does it talk about social proof?
I have read the buskers blog (thanks, anon, for the link). What a cool lady! Great attitude all the way. Lovely voice, too.
"I have never watched Frasier. Does it talk about social proof?"
No, but it dramatizes it. Frasier and his brother Niles are completely wrapped up in it.
Warmly recommended show, very funny.
It is certainly a pity if there is beauty and nobody to admire it. Perhaps not a waste of beauty, but definitely a wasted opportunity for a moment of happiness.
I always try to give street performers some time and attention, and a fair judgement.
Eventually some change, too. :-)
It's all about thinking one's perspective. I try to be fair as often as possible.
The "social proof" is part of the reflex of group conformism. There too, a behaviour inherited from prehistoric times, where belonging to the group equaled survival. A mixed blessing or a half-curse, you decide. :-)
But we need to admit the fact that we are still "primitive humans" deep down. "Civilization" practically didn't change our genes. We can't deny our nature. We can only adapt. And boy, can we adapt!
After all, many of our ancestors were certainly pretty good people, when you take aside the necessary reactions to a hostile and cruel world. Violence in the first societies was practically never and end, essentially a necessary evil or the result of ignorance. Good is ALSO part of our deep-rooted nature, it didn't just come out of the blue in us one day.
In a way, we were created that way, with our good and bad sides, and all that potentially ambiguous part. The spots are part of the leopard. :-)
I've mentioned it once: if you take a native person from a prehistoric-like society at birth, and switch him/her with a baby from the "advanced" West to be raised in each other's place, there'll be practically no difference in average between the social adaptation and mentality of those "test subjects" and their adoptive peers. The human mind is originally the same, a formidable learning entity.
Characters will vary, and ARE partly innate. But social development is a universal constant. An amazingly plastic constant. :-)
TTL, practically all my psychology knowledge is self-taught. Modesty aside, I admit it is one of my strong suits. :-)
But since I'm no University teacher, I keep learning from others.
Sharing is the best way to get rich.
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