Cowell and an epiphany

A few weeks we listened to Henry Cowell's Tiger and Banshee.  Upon listening I was thoroughly disappointed. Henry Cowell is an American icon whose name I knew, though not his music. My interpretation boiled down to a bland sound devoid of emotion and direction, simply notes on a page, rather than music.

After listening, the class lecture spent some time on the reviews of Cowell's work. With these I was speechless. People fainted, Cowell would pound, even punch the keys of the piano, and reviewers had to shut their eyes to try and listen to the music because the sight of Cowell performing was too distracting.

This new information moved my train of thought to the idea that Cowell live was much more firm and provocative than any recording could entail, thereby leading me to a question of deeper understanding. Can motion be separated from music?

Going back historically, we can see that the first musics were inexorably tied to motion, to dance. For example, African Tribal Dancing. Dancing in this case, they tied to life, but without a rhythm, there would be no dance. Music provided the motivation for movement, an extrinsic replication of what they heard and how they felt about it.

Can movement be linked to other genres? Why not is the clear answer. In our culture, popular music may even take a backseat to the motion accompanying the music. Take this year's Superbowl Halftime Show, in this, I am not even certain the artists are making their music the entire time, it seems that it would take more breath support to belt out the tones that she is, and the amount of movement she makes while singing makes it seem unlikely.

This can't be the case in classical music too can it? It seems that it is totally restricted. Players sit, move very little, and the expression comes from elsewhere. However, in most cases, the orchestra hires a person to be in motion. The conductor's sole responsibility is to be a physical representation of the music. Watch as Leonard Bernstein conducts Candide. His movements are distinct and not even often a clear beat pattern or in the realm of what we teach to conductors, but he does represent the music physically very well. How then, does this all tie into Henry Cowell?

Cowell's performances were reviewed by those who could not watch because he was too distracting at the piano to be listened to. There were some who would faint at the performances given by Cowell at the piano as he played his works. How then, if movement and performance is so tied to music, can we be expected to comprehend, even appreciate a work of music unless we are enabled to see the movement that accompanies such music?

Although I considered Cowell's music bland, watching someone treat Banshee as a real work of art, take it seriously, and play it intensely with their full attention brought me to the realization that a composer like Cowell cannot be appreciated without the notion that his motion is as important (if not moreso) as his music.