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Zara Walden's avatar

One of my favourites is the 4th movement of the 4th Symphony: Wir geniessen die Himmlischen Freuden (We enjoy the heavenly pleasures). It is so full of joy and beauty. A good place to start (in my opinion) if you are new to Mahler's music.

Param Patel's avatar

We so desperately need people like you. I will become a founding member soon. Never stop the work you do.

Yonatan Daon-Stern's avatar

Thank you so much Param! I’ll never stop! This work is what gets me going. Let me know if you’d like to speak more in private. I really appreciate your support!

Ilene Skeen's avatar

Brilliant analysis.

Great art is a lead. The creator senses the future and goes for it. Philosophy is generally a lag. By the time philosophers build the conceptual structure to explain the phenomena, often times the world of has moved on.

The second truth is that most people want to live in the present and don’t want to think about the future at all or the past. Great art is often a threat before and after.

By the time a future movement becomes a past history, the same type of people who didn’t want to see it when it was in the future say what eh, was all the fuss about?

George Cervenka's avatar

Thank you another great post! Merry Christmas and continued success in the New Year!

Kirill Magidson's avatar

It certainly seems that we respect creative geniuses who refuse to compromise, don’t go along the flow and rather act out of their inner convictions. The vision that this is morally good is indeed deeply embedded in our culture. It’s actually a very interesting question of where exactly is this idea coming from, or at least how did it become so powerful? It seems that the idea is very old, heavily drawing from the Christian (and hence, Jewish) ideal of martyrdom for the higher truth, German idealism and more recently, existentialism. Modern culture clearly adopted this as well: notice how we tend to automatically respect people like Steve Jobs when we discover how they refused to compromise and pursued their own vision. Ultimately, the main spell word that comes to mind here is “causa sui” = being the reason for itself. In a sense, this is the ideal that Western civilization has aspired to for centuries: that human becomes causa sui, whether this is understood as a self-creator in character, self-legislator of moral law, or the crafter of new cultural forms.

If we look at this idea more closely, however, it’s clear that it is not so clear-cut. To start with, causa sui can be easily confused with alienation: the desire to withdraw from the world and not engage with it out of sheer narcissism, cowardice or frankly, understandable psychological exhaustion. Perhaps, a person who does that, might still be a causa sui, but do we really approve of self-imposed alienation? It seems that we don’t, for good reasons. We don’t need any weird examples to understand what’s going on. In art, there’s plenty of eccentric artists who think that everyone around them is mistaken and they are the only ones doing the right thing. But yet, if we look at them and their art externally, it’s clear that they are wrong. They are not a misunderstood genius of Mahler or Van Gogh. So we get a tension that needs to be resolved: how do we distinguish true inner creativity from mere self-inflicted narcissistic alienation?

It seems that here, we essentially arrive at the Hegelian idea that inner creativity is 1) culturally and historically embedded, and 2) most important: operates in a dialectical mode. The true achievement of a creative genius consists of successfully remaking certain architectural elements of the current culture. The dialectical nature of such an achievement is that a) it is always done in opposition to something and b) brings about a new synthesis. It’s not mere rejection of external culture, and not merely a spontaneous overthrowal of existing traditions. It creates something new in opposition to existing trends, but in such a way that it also subsumes them. So this kind of “inner necessity” of creative freedom is actually very much embedded into the culture and deeply engages with it.

For example, Beethoven rejected some limitations of classicism, such its restraint and predictability. His originality was that he made music both more monumental (Symphony 9) and more personal (Moonlight Sonata). But he certainly also preserved the harmony and the structural elegance of classicism he was educated in. This way he became a pivotal figure in the transition from Classicism to Romanticism. I expect that a similar analysis can be done with Mahler, but it’s certainly beyond my knowledge of musical theory & history.

George Cervenka's avatar

I don’t think you finished reading “The Fountainhead”.

Kirill Magidson's avatar

Did I mention “The Fountainhead” even once in my comment? It doesn’t solve the problem I identify here. I suppose it doesn’t even know that it exists. Therefore, I’ll spare my limited time.

But if you have anything of substance to say in response to my points, please go ahead.

Alexander Goodman's avatar

Well written and well said. Thank you.