I found another expression of the same idea in Larry Rothe's article in last week's SF Symphony program. Quote:
"Music is something you enter, a kind of aural real estate. I believe I always thought of music in architectural terms, as a structure awaiting visitors, but I was not able to put that idea into words until I heard composer John Adams describe one of his works as 'a memory space'. ... Not all music is meditative, as is Adams's On the Transmigration of Souls, but all music is something you enter. In there, you get to know a little more about what you feel and believe, what you like and dislike, what you aspire to and what you can do without. And I'm not talking about art as respite, as some retreat where we go to slip away from a world that has grown too overwhelming. If music is a sanctuary at all, it is a sanctuary where we renew our energy and redefine our strategies for taking possession of the world. Music is not a hiding place. It's a place where we recharge, an anteroom from which we emerge onto the stage."
no subject
Date: 2006-12-09 09:36 am (UTC)"Music is something you enter, a kind of aural real estate. I believe I always thought of music in architectural terms, as a structure awaiting visitors, but I was not able to put that idea into words until I heard composer John Adams describe one of his works as 'a memory space'. ... Not all music is meditative, as is Adams's On the Transmigration of Souls, but all music is something you enter. In there, you get to know a little more about what you feel and believe, what you like and dislike, what you aspire to and what you can do without. And I'm not talking about art as respite, as some retreat where we go to slip away from a world that has grown too overwhelming. If music is a sanctuary at all, it is a sanctuary where we renew our energy and redefine our strategies for taking possession of the world. Music is not a hiding place. It's a place where we recharge, an anteroom from which we emerge onto the stage."