Classical music and the eternal undead.
Despite everything those elitist connoisseurs keep telling you, classical music is not inherently superior to all other genres of music.
Who are these hypothetical composers that choose the aesthetic math problem over the big sheet of newsprint on which to finger-paint?
Music is ultimately more valuable than politics.
I’ve heard countless stories of performers who were discouraged by their instrumental teachers when they would improvise or compose, as it took away from valuable practice time and was a “distraction.”
Orchestral terrorism, John Adams and Steve Reich use MIDI, a harpsichord built out of LEGOs—we are surely at the end of days.
The next time you feel the urge to insert, say, an intervallic aggregate simply because it bears a connection to another structural element in the music, take into sonic consideration the consequence of your actions. Are you really contributing anything to the sound?
How is that music can deliver us both heavenly and hellish experiences at the same time?
Can you call yourself a composer if no one else does? And why is the performer rather than the composer called the artist in performances and on recordings?
Can you just tell a composer to do an educational project along with a commission and expect success?