“Writing about music is like dancing about architecture.” David Bowie.
Which I’ve always taken to mean that each art form can only be appreciated on its own terms.
Made sense. And then I read a book.
I had never given classical music the time of day beyond the big tunes. But I’ve just finished “Absolutely on Music” by Haruki Murakami. It’s a collection of his interviews with the conductor Seiji Ozawa. Murakami is a classical music fan and collector, with a deep passion and encyclopedic knowledge. He finds common ground with Maestro Ozawa, who was taken under the wings of Leonard Bernstein, Herbert von Karajan and Hideo Saito. He has conducted and taught around the world for more than fifty years.
Together their lively conversations unveil the workings of the creative process, the patterns and visions of certain composers, the influence the ethos of an orchestra has on an interpretation, the impact of cultural background on composing and performing.
I listened to one piece while driving to and from work this week, for the first time really investing in a piece, armed with a very rudimentary ability to appreciate the work, based on their conversations. The piece is Mahler’s First Symphony, performed by the Boston Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Seiji Ozawa.
And I enjoyed it. Because they wrote about it.