It was 1856 and Clara Schumann was newly widowed. She hadn’t seen her husband, Robert, for several years; his ragings, during his institutionalization, specifically made clear that he did not wish to see her. But as a new, and young, widow, still with many of their nine children at home to feed, she needed to display some degree of cleverness in order to continue the lifestyle she was accustomed to. So she decided to return to her former love, the piano. Robert had snatched her away from the promise of a career as a concert pianist; now she would return to it. But she was no longer a child prodigy, and the competition to be noticed as a pianist was fierce. She decided to do something that, in the end, would change the nature of solo performing for the foreseeable future. She decided to perform from memory.
The critics were outraged! That she, a woman!, would have the audacity to do something as bold as that was surely to be condemned. But the male pianists of the day saw it differently. They knew that their prowess, even their male virility, was at stake; they could not allow a female to show them up! And so the cult of piano memorization was born. In short order, this would also penetrate the world of concerto performances on every instrument.
It’s hard to imagine today, but until the twentieth century, musicians didn’t overly concern themselves with music of former eras. Music was, by and large, of the day; and reading music off the page was how it was always performed. But as humanity evolved, sociologically, following the Industrial Revolution, the function of music did as well. In the Baroque period, music’s role was to incite the passions, to educate, and to amuse. The title of “genius” did not exist in the realm of music. Musicians carried out a craft, after serving as apprentices, and were considered working class. The world was separated into two classes, the nobles and the working class.
The Industrial Revolution changed all of that, eventually creating a middle class. In Europe, the class system was still rooted in heredity. In America the class system was rooted in money. The latter, what we call Capitalism, allowed for greater mobility up (and sometimes down) the social ladder. Europe would eventually adapt the same system.
But in the 19th century, as the artist started to become revered (the “noble savage,” the “artistic temperament,” and the “genius” all used as terms of endearment), the role of music shifted as well. The personality of the artist, the composer, the performer became paramount. The internal feelings of the artist became source of speculation and intrigue. Think, for example, about the contrast of Bach and Beethoven. We have no idea what Bach was feeling when he wrote the Agnus Dei from the B minor Mass, although we certainly know how it makes us feel. That’s music inciting the passions of the listener. But with Beethoven, we are all painstakingly aware of how he was a tortured artist, how his hearing loss frustrated him, and how these things manifested in his music. In other words, we are more aware of what Beethoven (the artist) felt than what we feel. This was a complete reversal of music’s function prior to the Industrial Revolution.
So it was natural that the rise of individuality and the cult of the genius artist would come together to influence music-making. Music became considerably more technically demanding (showy), and performers sought to impress their audiences. One of the ways of impressing, of showmanship, was the cult of memorization. By the end of the second world war, memorization became de riguer in conservatories and concert halls.
But neither science nor humanity had evolved enough to understand the great limitation that the memorization-standard inflicted on the Arts. Neuroscience didn’t exist yet, nor social psychology. Who would have dreamed that not all human brains learn in the same manner? What we now understand about visual vs. oral vs. motor learning skills is only a small piece of the complexity of brain organization in each individual. Looking, for example, at various systems that help us understand our genetic code (such as the Jovian method), we can see 16 possible patterns that constitute the way our brains assimilate knowledge. Each person has only one of these, for life! Of these, the ability to memorize facts, or memorize music, ranges from second nature to nearly impossible. By adapting a litmus test of memorization, the music “business” cut out at least half of the people with the artistic sensibility to enhance the quality of life on this planet. Tragic! And it’s time someone calls out the folly of this enterprise.
Organists were slow to get on the bandwagon of memorization. What would be the point? Nearly all organs were in balconies in the back of churches, and the organists, themselves, were completely out of sight. The organ was adapted for use in the church during the golden age of organs, the Baroque period. The cult of the individual, the great artist, did not exist. Although there were a few notable exceptions, the idea of being a concert organist, playing organ music outside of a church service, didn’t hit the music world until the middle of the 20th century. And with it came the expectation of showmanship, of memorization.
We now know that the brain is organized in a manner that performers are either adept at memorization or improvisation. Yes, these two things are hard-wired into brain functioning and almost mutually exclusive. Show me a brilliant improviser and I would be willing to bet that they struggle to memorize music. One is not better than the other; they are different and of equal merit.
I can only think of two European organists, in my entire lifetime, that advocated memorization. Yet, here in America, most conservatories still require it. I know of organ teachers who “threaten” their students that they will never be a concert organist if they don’t learn to improvise. How tragic that teachers like this show such little understanding of the human brain, and that audiences still are impressed by memorization.
I believe that the cult of memorization is now coming into its sunset, led on by the sunrise of the Technological Age. It’s computers that memorize! Humans give something else to art, we give soul. It’s time to stop insisting humans need to act like computers. Let’s let computers do the memorizing, and allow people to do the soulful communication. It is only through the latter that transformation of the listener is possible.