Watching this discussion between the Islamic scholar Hamza Yusuf and conservative philosopher Roger Scruton, I was struck by something Yusuf said, that one of the spiritual goals of Islam is to be 'inwardly in a state of ecstasy and outwardly in a state of sobriety'. This is an extremely profound insight, one forgotten by a modern secular world that seems to demand an exaggerated outward expression of internal feelings. To not smile when photographed is considered weird, if not disturbing; and to grin widely and make the most ridiculous faces while taking photographs of oneself is considered normal. One is frequently told to 'express yourself' and 'be who you are'; reserve is treated not as a dignified spiritual position but as psychological repression.
This attitude has colonised most aspects of our lives. One sanctuary (though increasingly under threat) is the concert hall. Listeners are ideally expected to be 'inwardly in a state of ecstasy and outwardly in a state of sobriety'. This is out of respect not merely for fellow audience members, and not merely for the music and the musicians either, but in recognition that this communal moment is more important than oneself. It engages the best parts of ourselves -- the part of us that forgets ourselves -- and it cannot be accessed if we are constantly indulging our basest, most selfish nature. We are together an audience before something great, and the ecstasy of the soul is discovered in our silence and stillness.
I heard the Catholic composer James Macmillan, in a conversation with Anglican priest and writer Giles Fraser, describe the 'obedience of music', a beautiful phrase -- and I think it refers to a similar idea. For music demands things of us: restraint, reflection, but seldom action. The trouble is, most people react to music by noise (and sometimes movement) because this is the only way they know to express gratitude and joy. But applause, the most common way of doing this, is actually very poor at showing gratitude. It is a noisy, disruptive and indulgent act only really good for showing enthusiasm. Sure, this works well for something like the last movement of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, which naturally inspires the most enthusiastic and extroverted of responses. But so much great music requires a more reflective audience. This is especially true (though by no means exclusively true) of quieter, more intimate music, whose beauty is trampled upon by the sound of hands clapping. But I would also prefer after a performance of Monteverdi's Vespers, for example, that there would be no applause. After a period of reflection, wouldn't a better response be for people to quietly leave?
This attitude has colonised most aspects of our lives. One sanctuary (though increasingly under threat) is the concert hall. Listeners are ideally expected to be 'inwardly in a state of ecstasy and outwardly in a state of sobriety'. This is out of respect not merely for fellow audience members, and not merely for the music and the musicians either, but in recognition that this communal moment is more important than oneself. It engages the best parts of ourselves -- the part of us that forgets ourselves -- and it cannot be accessed if we are constantly indulging our basest, most selfish nature. We are together an audience before something great, and the ecstasy of the soul is discovered in our silence and stillness.
I heard the Catholic composer James Macmillan, in a conversation with Anglican priest and writer Giles Fraser, describe the 'obedience of music', a beautiful phrase -- and I think it refers to a similar idea. For music demands things of us: restraint, reflection, but seldom action. The trouble is, most people react to music by noise (and sometimes movement) because this is the only way they know to express gratitude and joy. But applause, the most common way of doing this, is actually very poor at showing gratitude. It is a noisy, disruptive and indulgent act only really good for showing enthusiasm. Sure, this works well for something like the last movement of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, which naturally inspires the most enthusiastic and extroverted of responses. But so much great music requires a more reflective audience. This is especially true (though by no means exclusively true) of quieter, more intimate music, whose beauty is trampled upon by the sound of hands clapping. But I would also prefer after a performance of Monteverdi's Vespers, for example, that there would be no applause. After a period of reflection, wouldn't a better response be for people to quietly leave?
Most listeners are well aware how irritating it is to hear people rustling through programmes, whispering, or to see them checking their phones during a concert. (And these are all wretched manifestations of the sad inability to restrain oneself.) But I find even more irritating the habit of applauding and shouting 'bravo' immediately after the last note has been played, if not well before. I was never more annoyed than when hearing Messiaen's profound and sacred L'ascension, beautifully performed, and just before it had ended a silly, thoughtless man shouted 'bravo!' and began the applause. I do not believe he was actually listening to the music. He was listening to himself, and he was eager to impose himself on the rest of us. I suspect that, unlike most of us in the audience, he was inwardly in a state of sobriety but outwardly in a state of ecstasy, which is a miserable way of being.
[Update: Apparently Debussy beat me to it by some 118 years: https://www.laphamsquarterly.org/music/hold-applause]
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