Both of your perspectives on the relation between art, originality, and meaning in music are fascinating. Mr. Fillmore’s comment reminds me of what a classical rhetorician would say. Take Quintilion: “A speaker wins but trifling praise if he does no more than speak with correctness and lucidity; in fact his speech seems rather to be free from blemish than to have any positive merit…On the other hand, by the employment of skillful ornament the orator commends himself at the same time, and whereas his other accomplishments appeal to the considered judgment of the learned, this gift appeals to the enthusiastic approval of the world at large, and the speaker who possesses it fights not merely with effective, but with flashing weapons.” (emphasis added).

Returning to the innate/learned behavior divide, I think Eric is definitely right that we can learn to smile when we are not happy. However, there has actually been a good deal of research into the nature of smiles of genuine happiness versus smiles that are simply posed. The conclusion is that they aren’t the same, because true smiles, identified by Duchenne de Boulogne, involve not only the mouth, but also a change in the eyes…and people seem unable to fake the eye component of what’s been named a “Duchenne smile.”

Also, if smiles are learned, then why do people who are born blind still show happiness on their face as readily as those who can see? Where did they learn that expression?

So, it seems there is a difference between knowing by nature to smile when you are happy, and knowing through learning to smile in a social context. A few basic expressions that seem innate and universal…not only are the expressions innate, but our ability to recognize them and associate them with a certain emotion seems that way too. There are combinations, variations, and amplifications of these expressions, however, that are learned differently in various cultures.

That’s why the question of how much of our musical appreciation is learned versus innate still seems wide open to me. If it is genetic that we express emotion in our face, might it also be genetic that we can express certain emotions through music? I’m definitely not saying yes. But I also think that it’s too soon to definitely say no.

ADDENDUM: What a coincidence, the BBC has just posted this article today: Smiles and scowls ‘in our genes’. Is MI5 watching this blog?

I consider originality/artfulness and meaning to be closely related. I think you can have one without the other, yes, but the greatest works of music are those that combine both. Beauty without meaning is still beauty, but with meaning it can change lives. When I write songs (yes, I write songs), I strive for the perfect mixture of meaning and art.

Without this combination, I think the two ideas are equally ambitious/effective. I could write a very direct, meaningful song, telling exactly how I feel about General Winfield Scott (the bastard), with lyrics like “Oh, he’s a bastard, I wish he were dead/See, the party picked him over me/So now I’m upset/I’m upset because I won’t be President again.”

While something like this may rank high in the area of “meaning” in that the audience knows exactly what I’m saying, and I’m getting my message across very clearly, it may not be as effective as it could be if the level of “art” isn’t there. If the music were very droll, say with a single harpsichord note sounding every 2 minutes, while I speak/ramble the words off quickly, the message wouldn’t get very far. But with the addition of originality and art, the message can be so much more effective.

Well, as they say, the nourishment is palatable!

As for the pursuit of artfulness or originality in music, I think they can be the same goals or different goals. For example, I could write a song that is totally original, but I might only be experimenting with sounds and not trying to get any meaning from it. As I work with these new sounds, I can start writing a sound with meaning. Or I could even go the opposite way and write a parody of all the top 40 hits on the radio that sound like it, it can be original because it does not sound like any other song, and it has meaning as well.

I agree with Mr. “Roosevelt” (Alex’s latest identity, it seems) that the only limit to originality in music is human imagination. Think of the diversity just in the number of possible sounds we can make! And then think of all the possible combinations thereof. However, as Mr. Stephen Fry continued in that sketch, we have a tendency to ignore this infinite potential in our language, and simply repeat the same words and phrases every day. This seems true in music too. The potential for originality is limitless, but the top 40 hits all sound nearly the same, and the reason they’re top 40 hits is because they get played over and over and over and over and over again. We can be original, but we hate to stray from what’s comfortable.

I wonder, Alex/FDR, (and Eric too, if you like), what do you think about the pursuit of originality or artfulness in music as opposed to the pursuit of making music say something, be expressive, and communicate? Are they separate goals? Is either more ambitious, more rewarding? When you yourself write songs/presidential speeches, does either consideration, art or meaning, enter your process? Or are you just writing to have fun?

As regards innate vs. learned behavior, there is certainly a school of thought that insists all behavior is learned, and none innate. However, there are other schools of thought that insist with equal resolve that much behavior is genetic. The reason that two schools can hold such different ideas is because neither side really has enough evidence to disprove the other. For the sake of argument, though, what would you say about behaviors that are universal to humankind? We often concentrate on differences. It’s obvious to see the variety between societies in things like language, music, dress, etc. Such things can only be transmitted by learning. But what about something like, oh, smiling? In every human society, without exception, people smile to express happiness. Is it really likely that, in the light of so much diversity in so many other aspects of life, every human culture somehow manages to teach exactly the same facial expressions to denote the same emotions? Or are basic facial expressions with us from birth, part of the human genome, embedded in our species? The latter seems to me more likely.

Let’s look at this in terms of music. Take consonance and dissonance. It’s true that not everyone finds the same meanings in consonance and dissonance, and it’s also true that there is disagreement about where the boundary between the two lies. It’s also true, however, that everyone who can hear at all can tell the difference between a strongly consonant chord and strongly dissonant one, even if they don’t know what to call the difference. Our ears are obviously genetic. The mental ability to process what our ears take in and comprehend pitch and rhythm and so forth seems genetic. And, as I’m not aware of any group of humans that doesn’t find emotion in music, perhaps the reason we find music emotional is that, as humans, that’s what we’re genetically programmed to do. Might it go still further than that? Are there certain musical features that all people associate with the same emotions? I don’t know. I doubt it, frankly. I’ve never seen a real study on this, though, so I’m only positing. My guess is that even if everyone finds music emotional, the emotions people find are specific to different cultures, subcultures, even unique individuals. They’re something we learn. But I can’t say that for sure, because there hasn’t been enough hard research to know.

Eric, or any other reader, you’re certainly welcome to continue this discussion further.

Anyway, this reminds me of the discussion of language with Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie whether it was the language that made English men ironic, or the ironic of the people that made the language ironic. This discussion can also be translated to music as you were discussing regionalism.

There is also a quote I heard from Stravinsky: “Good composers borrow. Great composers steal.” I was wondering how you felt about anyone trying to be original in music. Is that even possible? Or is it just like Steven Fry said: “Imagine a piano keyboard, eh, 88 keys, only 88 and yet, and yet, hundreds of new melodies, new tunes, new harmonies are being composed by hundreds of different keyboards every day in Dorset alone.”?