Melodious thinking
I’ve never entirely trusted Dr Raj Persaud — it’s that thing about him being a “celebrity psychiatrist” that worries me, I think. And I’m certainly not sure what to make of his latest research:
“His studies of dementia patients show a link between taste and ‘hard-nosed intellectual function’ — in other words, appreciation of classical music may require more brain power. Persaud has observed that, as brain power diminishes in dementia patients, they sometimes go from liking classical to pop — but not the other way round.”
Read the full report here.
Whilst this sounds believable to a certain extent, I also think it’s a dangerous route to take. Classical music already suffers enough at the hands of elitist snobs who believe that it can’t be appreciated by just anyone. At the other end of the scale, some successful “pop music” (for want of a better term) is getting increasingly complex and difficult, and is being written about and analysed in a way that was previously only the preserve of the classical field. To even imply that one must be intelligent to appreciate the works of the great composers, but that it’s possible to get by without some of the more discriminating brain cells in order to believe there is equal substance in pop music is, I think, a risky premise. I know this for myself, because I love and appreciate both equally. Elgar’s Cello Concerto invokes waves of passion within me, but then currently so does the latest album by Francoiz Breut; Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring has the ability to throw my emotions all over the place, but so do many of the songs by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds; and Vaughan Williams’s The Lark Ascending can easily bring tears to my eyes, but then so can many of the most sublime moments written and sung by the late Nick Drake.
Intelligence and intellect is integral to the appreciation of music, but it should not be the only consideration. Just because you can’t necessarily understand something, it doesn’t mean that your emotions can’t be moved by it.
Aside: I’ve loved a wide range of classical music for years, but if I’m honest it’s only in the past five or six years that I’ve really begun to appreciate it and understand it. Could that be anything to do with my little grey cells improving? Possibly. Yet, in my case, I think there’s another equally valid answer. I attempted to study Music at O-level, because I loved the subject and was a good pianist. Unfortunately, it began to ruin it for me. As soon as my teacher stood in front of her class and began dissecting, note for note, a gorgeous piece of music, I lost interest. The magic entirely disappeared.