I've been thinking about duality thinking, and how to diminish it.
Diminish, because I suspect there is no "cure." All we need is a little more day-to-day traction in the direction of diminishment.
Yes, I now perceive of duality thinking as a social disease to be addressed as a public health problem without a total cure, just like the Surgeon General and an increasing number of reputable medical academics now think that gun violence is a public health problem.
The duality problem as set forth in my two recent blogs, is best typified by three things: language framing, mental concepts, and social programming, which all feature the paradigm represented by the phrases: "win-lose", "black-or-white", "good-or-bad", or "for me to win or be better, then you have to lose and be worse." Then it turns into ranking and levels and labels of all sorts.
Duality thinking in the music world is most evident in international piano competitions.
Over a year ago I discovered a video commentary regarding international piano competitions. It was an interview of Seymour Bernstein on his 96th birthday. Bernstein is a renowned pianist and has become a respected and beloved piano teacher. (Check out his comments at 17.20 minutes into the interview and his advice to the music world provided at 19.40).
Bernstein was lamenting the need to designate "numbers one, two, three, etc." among finalists in famed international piano competitions such as The International Tchaikowsky Competition or The Chopin Piano Competition. He thought at that level it was better to realize that judgments were principally subjective, that each pianist had something different to offer, and thus all should be rewarded by equal recognition with no ranking or single first prize awarded.
Quite a novel, egalitarian, and fair approach, I thought at the time. I had just attended my first-ever annual student piano concerto competition which on that occasion involved three graduates of our SF Conservatory of Music. I was gobsmacked to note the competence - and distinct difference - of each finalist, but only one could "win." But...why only one?
Classical pianist Robert Estrin in an undated blog, "The Truth about Piano Competitions," notes that piano competitions today are "a whole industry and the level of players is astounding...at any competition there will be literally hundreds of supremely qualified people."
My ears perked up, because I've recently been thinking about the "kleptocorporate capitalism" so evident in the health profession (especially in HMOs and the drug manufacturing and distribution industries; google "pharmacy managers"). I first read the term used by a distinguished physician writing in the Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA).
In the world of piano competitions Estrin notes that: "(The decisions) might really turn on one or two of the judges and some of the other judges might think oh, that’s not the way I’m used to hearing it."
The truly sad thing to Estrin as well as to me, is that the nature of today's piano competitions causes contestants to "sound like everyone else" and fail to take chances of presenting a novel, "spell binding" approach.
Some music professors think competitions lend motivation to the competitor. Really? As a top level, superbly competent pianist or piano student, would that person truly need to find more motivation? By his or her persistence, does not a student already demonstrate motivation beyond compare? It seems like a truly ludicrous reason to persist with ranking performers in piano competitions, a reason that condescends to and denigrates the prior dedicated efforts of all.
From a contestant's perspective, one student says he does not consider them a "competition" but an opportunity for exposure and growth. "It's a marker in terms of progress" and can "validate you as a musician" he says. Another student says that the stress "makes you stronger." (Reminds one of Kelley Clarkson's song "Stronger"!)
But intense competition can also devastate a sensitive soul, and is that cost to the musical world worth it?
The cost is not insignificant. How about the cost of losing a music student who is overwhelmed by failing to win first prize, then disappears? Their withdrawal makes the music world the loser in the end, precisely because there goes a potential piano teacher who could impart their technical and musicality skills and overall encourage the love of music.
Perhaps that person might have written persuasively about music as an academician, or have composed a timeless piece of music, or become a recording artist. Why take the chance of dashing the hopes and persistence of those who clearly already adore music and want to share it from their deepest soul?
Does a musician truly require validation from and in an anxiety-producing forum which reflects the duality of our modern argument culture? Is it a valid way (pun intended!) in which to feel "validated" and worthy to continue in a concertizing profession when one is perpetuating a "win-lose" paradigm by participating in it?
As with any given issue, it's complex.
Sometimes the consuming public is part of the problem. I was surprised to learn that some patrons support competitions and crave the approval rating and "status" that inheres in winning a contest. I've heard of people who won't even attend a performance by a non-winner. Losing seems to be equated with being a nobody or of "low status." Is that the kind of world we want to live in and promote by our own choices?
Consider the marvelous musicians I've heard or viewed busking in the streets, or those on the Groupmuse musician roster. Not many of those local musicians yearn to play Carnegie, although they might not turn down an invitation should it come.
These superb Groupmuse musicians, most of whom are not major competition "winners," joyfully make themselves professionally and personally available in intimate and friendly home or apartment settings, or in small cafes or libraries where we guests can get up close and personal to music and to the musician. For me, that intimacy enhances my experience of music and more quickly leads me inside the composition and to the heart of what the composer and musician wanted to say and wanted me to hear and understand. It warms my heart to be so accepted by them into their wonderful music world, and that makes me feel special and encouraged in my own piano studies. What could be better?
Estrin has persuasively described modern-day international piano competitions, but was there a "before"? Yes, there was. Apparently piano competitions were a handful in number and only took flight around the 1990s. By today they approach 800 annually, or perhaps more.
There is an informative August 9, 2009 New York Times article by Michael Johnson, an American journalist based in Bordeaux, who served on the board of the London International Piano Competition from 1997 to 2005. He says that competitions lack universal standards and even worse, some competitions involve "corrupt judges." Johnson cites one judge who ousted a competitor because he played a Bach piece better than she did. Perhaps these problems have been sorted out and it's better today, some 15 years later?
Johnson goes on to say that "Perhaps more sinister is the practice of jurors — often prohibited from voting for their own students — secretly trading votes with other jurors whose students are also competing." Johnson includes this quote: “'The system is broken,' Ivan Ilic, an American pianist in France, told me."
Absolutely horrifying!
But in a more hopeful vein, Ilic also says that "Competitions have lost their weight in determining careers."
So there you have a brief summary of the pros and cons regarding "win-lose" piano competitions.
Yet nothing is fixed as "good-bad" and everything changes. That was brought home to me by Linguistics Professor Deborah Tannen writing about changing and "acceptable" gender terms.
However, I don't think anyone can convince me of any ultimate benefit in promoting the crystal clear destructive nature of words - and competitive events - that represent duality and ultimately point and even indirectly lead to the actuality of war.
I've found it tough to be aware of the war words that are often my default. Just today I started to say "my health challenge" and changed it to "my health puzzle." "Issue" might have been appropriate, too. The word "challenge" smacks of war and makes something seem more difficult than it otherwise might be. Why hamstring myself with such words and a "good-bad" dualistic mindset?
Usually it takes more than will power and time to change a habituated response; it takes the caring and gentle help of others to point out when we slip. But being resolute as to the direction we want to head, helps us get there. If we don't know where we want to head then it really doesn't matter where we go.
Would you like to join me in promoting the below slogan, and helping ourselves and other willing and like-minded friends live by it, at least in the personal words that we use and loving relationships that we choose and pursue?
"NO MORE WORDS OF WAR!"
("praise song for walking forward in that light." - the final line in the following poem)
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"Praise Song for the Day" by was written for President Obama's inauguration, by poet Elizabeth Alexander and so aptly reflects the topic of this blog.
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Post script: A friend who helped me edit my blog sent me this response, which proves the benefits of substantive, aside from technical, editing - and it heartens me! "You, as usual, make very persuasive arguments for your beliefs. In fact, let me modify what I just wrote to this: You, as usual, share very persuasive reasons for your beliefs. (Better?)"
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