Dead or alive

Any performer active in new music has experienced it when working with living composers: they aren't necessarily the Holy Grail of answers to the questions we may have about their pieces. The previous sentence sounds perhaps odd, as if it is a choice not to work with a dead composer. But we all do want to communicate with the composers of the music we want to play, whether we interpret what they wrote in letters two centuries ago or what they are going to say to us during the dress rehearsal for tomorrow's world première. In other words: it can be as difficult to get the information you want from a living composer as from a dead composer.

This may be one of the reasons that musicology has been mostly interested in the deceased. Other reasons are of course the convenience of a closed oeuvre and of an extensive literature to build upon, but these should be outweighed easily by the advantages of investigating living beings and their actions, one would think. Besides the fundamental urge to assess the act of (co-)creation without the distorting prism of the score, there is the prospect of insights unique to dialogue and common context (e.g. contemporaneity of language, research focus and perspective, knowledge,...). Nevertheless, research into living composers is often not much more than a way to propagate those composers’ ideas. In this regard, Ian Pace’s thorough critique on such spokesman-musicology is certainly valid for quite a few more cases than the one involving Brian Ferneyhough. I remember vividly the awkwardness of seeing David Osmond-Smith read a paper on Berio with the composer sitting next to him, and how nobody knew who to address with a question during the Q&A session. Or how Kagel visibly – dare I say “theatrically” – nodded or shook his head (dis)approvingly during each consecutive presentation at a conference in his honor.

It is none the less good to see that recent music is the object of study. It is not a very recent evolution, but there seems to always have been a kind of schism between those who scrutinize long bygone eras and those who look around themselves. The moving wall between them, gradually shifting with time at the speed of about a generation, represents defining lines between interests as well as methods. Already in 1933 Henry Cowell published a book “to present the composer’s own point of view”.* Some of the rationale behind the “experiment unprecedented in musical history” demonstrates a sense of critical perspective, such as the urge to display diversity (“Special consideration was given to composers who are developing indigenous types of music”), or the doing away with any "pretense of being complete”. (Cowell 1933, v) Other aspects betray a level of superficiality, however: while ostentatiously called “a symposium”, there was never a conference and it is reasonable to assume that Cowell oversaw and controlled the whole enterprise himself rather than organize a peer process to work out the content; contributions were sought, and when it was impossible to obtain original ones, articles were reprinted from “various periodicals”. From an academic point of view, there is a thin line between amateurism and journalism.

Interviews are similarly dubious. Since 1969, the Oral History of American Music has been collecting thousands of “voices of the major musical figures of our time” in audio and video interviews. As tempting as these look (and I have not been able to resist them, myself), there is only limited use for them, e.g. to corroborate, negate, or contextualize insights found elsewhere. Investigative journalism never depends on letting the investigated do most of the talking – the interviewer is just another prism. And then there are the multiple issues on the side of the interviewee, not least with regards to purposefully remembering one's own past. (When it comes to wilfully constructing false memories, Cowell has shown himself to be quite skillful.) 

As long as we revere the writings of artists as a product of an oracle, as we so often do their compositions, critical assessment stands little chance. Such issues of “the work” are accompanied by those of power. It is not a coincidence that I added the names of two dead composers to the second paragraph of this text. I could list others – and not just of composers – but I could also name projects of which I had to see the potential vanish into thin air because it became too dangerous to mine the field of knowledge embodied in the mind of the living being who was the object of the study. If I thought myself strong enough to put aside my own ego, that of the other was not so easy to take out of the equation.

Nevertheless, AR can mitigate some of the above concerns. From that perspective, Cowell’s book deserves to be quoted some more, even if his rationale did not include letting composers discuss their own works:

...critical estimates from composers who may not always have a polished literary style but who know their subject, instead of from reviewers who are clever with words but do not know the principles of composition. (Cowell 1933, iii)

...to obtain a synthetic and sympathetic understanding of the aims of any particular composer, why not ask him to relate them himself? He knows more about his aims than anyone else! (Cowell 1933, iii)

Composers who were included had to be persons who could write intelligibly. While literary style is not here the paramount consideration, it must be admitted that some very talented composers have absolutely no ability to set down their ideas in words. (Cowell 1933, iv)

 ...it was expected from the beginning to reveal as much about its authors as it did about their subjects…(Cowell 1933/62, ix)

To be fair, Cowells aims and ideas need to be seen in their historical context (i.e. reacting against a perceived bias in the reception of "modern" music), all the while taking into account his penchant for combining instruction with provocation. Yet, some of it anticipates ideals and conundrums of AR: today, we still recognize the added value in and the issues with an artist contemplating his/her own practice. But the problems of auto-ethnography overlap with those mentioned above, and the intentionality and poetic fallacies are treacherous at any distance between subject and object.

These challenges are very typical of AR, as the researcher necessarily involves his/her artistic practice. Through regular such confrontations in my own research, I am thus simultaneously researching (in-and-through that practice, so to speak) possible ways around the pitfalls, whether investigating living composers or performers. And although I am convinced that enough safeguards can be put in place to make scrutiny of living beings’ actions worth its while, I don’t have all the answers to all of the issues. It is therefore very fortunate that an international, multi-disciplinary three-day conference (with Ian Pace on the board of conveners) is planned to discuss just these matters. Writing About Contemporary Artists: Challenges,Practices and Complexities will be held at Surrey University's Institute for Advanced Studies on October 20-22, 2017. The closing date for sending in abstracts is May 29th, 2017.

The proposals are expected to cover a range of different artistic fields, disciplines, musical genres, methodological perspectives, and types of discourse and artist; to focus upon all forms of writing as well as its conventions and boundaries; and – naturally – to focus on living (or recently deceased) artists. A roundtable proposal is encouraged, “exploring questions around the status of creative practice as a form of research in different arts disciplines.”

Many important reasons to be in Surrey in October!

* Cowell, Henry. American Composers on American Music. A Symposium. New York: Frederick Ungar Publishing Co., Inc. 1962 edition. xiv + 226 p.

The UK debate / the AEC White Paper

2015 is in the past. As far as this blog goes, that year has certainly been marked by the composition-is-(not-)research debate. My response to John Croft’s article, the follow-up posts, and Scott McLaughlin’s report on the London discussion, have by far garnered most of the readers of all the texts on this site.

There has been a distinct feeling of closure: for composer Christopher Fox, editor of TEMPO (where John’s initial article was published), the journal’s freshly published 275th issue, with articles by Camden Reeves and Ian Pace, and with John Croft’s rebuttal to them, marked "the final innings […] of the great practice-as-research test match"; Ian published "final thoughts" on his blog, followed by what he called a "last post" on "300-word statements" (here for that post). On the other hand, an announcement came in through the mail, this week, of a combined live/online conference at the University of West London (see here) - dealing with such fundamental aspects of the matter as, for instance, "what is good output", echoing Scott's request for deciding on "what we think good research is" (here). Clearly, the last word has not been said, just yet.

Some such aspects have already been touched upon in this blog, e.g. why I thought composition should be debated especially (feeling uncomfortable with the fact that, as phrased elsewhere, "it is tacitly accepted that a musical composition is likely to qualify as some type of research much more than is the case for musical performances and recordings"), and, years ago, definitions, dissemination platforms, peer review systems, etc., all particular to AR.

The debate at City University "Can composition and

performance be research? Critical perspectives."

There are certainly aspects still worthwhile going into, such as the need to distinguish between a composition/performance and the act of composing/performing (including preparations) when talking about composition/performance-as-research. Or that stretch in the City University panel video (1h 06’25” – 1h 11’10”) where Ian Pace plays an excerpt from the Paul Dukas piano sonata “in light of some research”, which he briefly indicated to consist of his analysis of the work, his study of the relevant 17 recordings, and especially his consideration of late 19th-Century French pianism and distinct compositional aesthetics and approaches from that time. An applause followed his performance, and reports on the debate were written, but I find it strange that such an important statement - and I mean the performance - was not picked up on anywhere. I don’t want to doubt that Ian did analyze the work and the recordings, and that he dug deeply into the historical contexts, although that is only because I know him well enough to trust what is otherwise a mere assumption of mine. But am I to take the insights that his research established to be situated in his seemingly odd approach to the tempo change (perhaps relating to the "amorphous musical composition" that he mentioned in his introduction), or in his ignoring a two-bar long diminuendo (in order, maybe, to stress a more "strongly hierarchical approach to musical composition")? What options did he decide not to integrate into his interpretation, and why? Why play the trio section? How did the difference between looking at 19th century French pianism (and how did he do that?) and compositional aesthetics play out? Or were certain parameters such as timbre involved? (I can’t tell, as the microphone set-up doesn’t allow any serious assessment.) And so on. I am sure the above will sound like I am trying to be facetious, but I am genuinly at a loss. I cannot but think of Ian's statement (from here) that 

a sensitive listener with some familiarity with the work in question and performance practice might very well be able at least to assess, if not necessarily reconstruct in every detail, the research process which has given rise to one of David Milsom’s performances. A 40 000 word dissertation would certainly elaborate the process to a high degree, if done well, but I am not really sure that a 300 word statement could – or rather, if some point can be elucidated in 300 words but not clearly heard from the performance without such guidance, I would question the extent to which it is embodied in that performance

Ian's verbal introduction was a bit less than half of 300 words, but the excerpt he played was very limited in scope as well, and I do think I can consider myself familiar with the work in question (I have listened with the score, have compared other recordings, etc.). I cannot say that I have analysed 17 recordings, or that I have studied the particular context as vigourously as I suspect Ian did, but that would be against the point of listening to someone communicate the results of his research, anyway. So, I end up desperately trying to give his performance research credit while being aware that I achieve no more than committing intentional fallacies.

As I indicated above, I trust Ian enough to be sure that, if/when he publishes about his research, all will become clear. What I am interested in, at this point, is the hesitance with which positions seem to be taken. I do not think that "I am not really sure that a 300 word statement could [...]" and "a sensitive listener might" are a matter of understatement so often found in British English. As I don't think the silence of so many professionals involved in the debate is a coincidence. Or the fact that nobody from the UK has come forward (to my knowledge) with an answer to Piers Hellawell's question of the relation between composition and research when both are not equated (here), which was at the core of my response to John's article, and which led to the titles of four of my blog entries. 

Liduino Pitombeira

I did receive one reaction, however, from composer Liduino José Pitombeira de Oliveira, who sent me a +/-1400 word article Composition of Two Works for Woodwind Quintet based on the Systemic Modelling of Guarnieri’s Ponteio No. 25, which he wrote with Marcel Macedo de Castro Lima (downloadable here). The article proposes a compositional-analytical method

in order to identify a hypothetical compositional system that would have given rise to Camargo Guarnieri’s Ponteio No.25 [for piano], which was analyzed from the perspective of its harmonic and melodic structure. The resulting model allowed us to create two applications in MATLAB, which helped us during the compositional planning of two new works that are distinct from the original but still similar from the point of view of the selected parameters.

The article contains a referenced theoretical context, a report on the analysis, and details on the related planning for the new compositions. That the latter is still descriptive ("we started by", "next we have", "…was added", etc. ), and that the conclusions as well as other parts leave important questions wide open, certainly provides room for criticism. But, at least, with this verbal explication, critical assessment of the research is possible. With only the pieces (in their scores and/or performances), it would not be.

But I have made this argument before. More important for this post is the fact that Liduino Pitombeira is from Brazil, where a similar debate seems to be going on, and which was the reason for him to contact me. In hindsight, much of how the 2015 debate on the matter evolved – the expectance (or hope?) that all is said and done, probing fundamentals, the polarization, the latent thin ice, the tacit acceptances, etc. – is odd because this has all been taking place in a country where the composition-research degree is said to have been invented already in the 1960s (as Christopher Fox explains after 8’30” in the video of the November 2015 debate), and where there are now so many composers in academic positions (see Ian Pace’s numbers here). Even if the continuous references to past and future UK Research Excellence Framework exercises keep explaining most of the 2015 peak of interest in these matters, the historical background and critical mass of professional artist-researchers make it difficult not to wonder why this debate has not taken place long ago. And if it has, why was it unsuccesful enough to have to have it again? Despite all the legitimate criticism on the recent REF assessment, it seems that it can at least be credited with having reinvigorated the discourse.

Across the channel from the UK, I have witnessed the same debates in countless instances already within less than the first decade after AR was institutionally introduced at the beginning of this century. Some of it is ongoing, certainly in countries that hopped onto the bandwagon at a later stage than others. Nevertheless, last November, at the time of the City University debate, and even on the same island, the Association of European Conservatoires and Hochschules (AEC) held their Annual Congress and General Assembly, during which they presented their "White Paper on Artistic Research". (Downloadable in English, German, French, Italian, and even Polish.)

The organization, comprising over 300 member institutions for professional music training in 57 countries, has planned to set out "key concepts that are relevant in the sphere of higher music education, especially those where there may be some confusion or controversy as to their meaning or how they should be interpreted." (See here.) The first action concerns AR.

The AEC defines AR as solidly based in artistic practice, and as creating new knowledge within the arts. Features include critical dialogue (within the artistic field, with other relevant fields of knowledge, and between the scholarly and professional domains), critical reflection (on content and/or context, and on methods and processes), and the sharing of professional knowledge with the wider artistic community.

This endeavor equally shows signs of wanting to be politically correct: it recognizes that, while AR is seen to grow in importance, not every conservatoire will necessarily wish to participate in explicit research activities, nor use the term 'artistic research', and that precise definitions should not limit valid research ambitions. Also, that AR should be multi-facetted, and inclusive rather than tied to a particular orthodoxy.

Nevertheless, while the diversity is made explicit as including "a wide range of component activities, some of which may count as pure research, others as applied, and still others as developmental or translational research", and while, as stated, research should not to be understood as incompatible with more traditional forms of research, nor be without its distinctive emphasis upon the integral role of the artist in its research processes, it should "aspire to the same procedural standards that apply across the whole research spectrum – replicability (especially of procedures), verifiability, justification of claims by reference to evidence, etc."

The AEC furthermore considers the need for explaining both the process and the outcome of research "in ways that conform to the normal standards of comprehensibility among peers that are found in more traditional research". It allows for the exploration of new ways that are more closely embedded in the artistic component, but sees "the obligation of clear communication and dissemination" to be overriding. In other words, "It is not enough to perform a work and call this a 'communication of research results'".

There is much more in the White Paper, including views on pedagogical benefits in different educational cycles, the intention to help AR become a fully established discipline, to see it as complementary to the conservatoires’ main artistic focus, how the AEC envisions itself supporting its member institutions towards these causes, etc.

Several UK institutions are active members of the AEC: Birmingham Conservatoire, Guildhall School of Music and Drama, Leeds College of Music, Royal Academy of Music, Royal College of Music, Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, and the Royal Northern College of Music. Some of these are represented at the conference that opens tomorrow; in Leeds, the university has established a center in practice-as-research. I shall be interested to hear of how such parties position themselves and interact with their colleagues in the present UK landscape and ongoing discourse.

Scott Mc Laughlin reporting on a PaR discussion

Interested in following the debate on "composition-as-research", I regretted that I could not be in London for a panel talk on this topic, now a few weeks ago. Luckily, composer Scott Mc Laughlin did go, and he kindly agreed to report on it. Here are his thoughts.

Scott Mc Laughlin

Report on Practice-as-Research discussion at City University London

I’m a composer and academic at the University of Leeds (UK). I went down to London for the research forum on Nov. 25th organised by Ian Pace at City University called 'Can Composition and Performance be Research? Critical Perspectives'. A video of the event is here. 

The forum discussion was planned as a response to John Croft’s article 'Composition is Not Research' (Tempo, 69/272, April 2015, pp.6–11), and also as a prelude to the forthcoming edition of Tempo which will include response articles by Ian Pace and Camden Reeves, as well as a right-of-reply article by Croft himself. In this research forum, each of the six panelists gave a short response to Croft’s article, followed by panelists responding to each other, then opening-up to audience questions. The panel is listed below, and was moderated by Alexander Lingus:

• Christopher Fox (Professor of Composition at Brunel University and editor of Tempo)
• Miguel Mera (composer and Head of the Department of Music at City University)
• Annie Yim (pianist and DMA student at City University)
•  Christine Dysers (PhD student in Music at City University)
• Camden Reeves (composer and Head of Music, University of Manchester)
• Ian Pace (pianist and Lecturer in Music at City University)

Panel Contributions:

Panelist 1: Christopher Fox’s short talk emphasised the impact of Croft’s article as re-igniting this long-standing debate across the summer of 2015. Fox’s main point was to raise two important questions that he felt are central to this debate: (A) what do we mean as academics (in practice areas) when we say 'I am doing research’? and (B) what are the practical consequences of research, and what is the impact of losing this status? Research generates money and is an indicator of esteem, it attracts students. If we stop calling composition (and performance) research then there will be consequences for composers who wish to study for PhDs. Fox’s parting point was that if music is a discourse then why should composers write words about it, they should just compose. Unfortunately there was no time for him to nuance or discuss this further, but I would argue in response that music can be a discourse but that this discourse (at least, that which is received by the listener) is not necessarily connected (or connectable) to any research that went into its composition.

I agree with Fox that these two questions are central. For this debate to move forward, I think a single session of discussion devoted to just the first —what do we mean as academics (in practice areas) when we say 'I am doing research’? — would be time very well spent.

Panelist 2: Miguel Mera framed the discussion in terms of a disciplinary anxiety about legitimacy. He reframed Fox’s question as ‘why do we find it so difficult to judge the contributions to knowledge made by composition and performance on their own terms?’. He noted the definition of research given by the REF as being very open, 'a process of investigation effectively shared’, and that the REF does not inscribe any scientistic ideas of research (such as the OED’s requirement that research ‘establishes facts’) in its requirements. Mera, queried what the phrase ‘effective shared’ might mean, but suggested that as a discipline it is our responsibility to define what we consider to be valuable in our practice, and in what ways this may or may not be research. Mera began with Croft’s idea that composition is often not about pre-formed ideas but rather as creating striking responses to musical problems. Mera agreed that composition research shouldn’t simply report the findings of research questions, and called for playfulness in research; a possible ideal of compositional research being exploratory and facilitating serendipitous discoveries. He tentatively agreed with composers who think music should not need words to explain itself, but felt that in academia we had a duty to explain or work, though not necessarily in words (see ‘Exegesis’ below): I agree on this point in particular. Summarising his thoughts, Mera emphasised practitioners making a case for when we ARE doing research, and highlighting our contribution to knowledge.

Panelist 3: Annie Yim is a recently-completed DMA performance student, providing the discussion with a useful shift in perspective, both in terms of discipline and researcher-context. Yim’s presentation focused on her experience as a student and the frustrating lack of boundaries and definition between joint roles as practitioner and researcher. She echoed Mera’s point about overly rigid approaches to practice-research by noting that PaR requires a curiosity that the existing framework (postgraduate study I presume) is not equipped to handle. Yim also made several points about ‘training’ that I regret I was not able to follow up with questions: I’m interested to know if she considers the DMA as professional training for practice, which she may consider as antithetical to the researcher role. 

Panelist 4: Christine Dysers was not able to make the event in person, but she had a prepared a statement that was read out by Sam MacKay. As with Yim, Dysers, a musicologist, also provided a welcome new context. She found Croft’s definition of research to be too narrow and ‘bureaucratic’, and she echoed Mera’s call for an open approach to practice research wherein she described composition as reflexive and non-linear process where the composer is keen to reflect findings and communicate them. Dysers’ statement also made some references to practice research in terms of ‘scientific discovery’, which I think is a problematic approach to thinking about most research in composition/performance (see 'Science' below), but I was not able to question her about this.

Panelist 5: Camden Reeves talked of a sinister attack on composition where some forms of composing are segregated as not being research-worthy: an acute example of Mera’s ‘anxiety of legitimacy’ mentioned above. Reeves compared composition-as-research to the Athenian democracy, which, despite good intentions, ended up marginalising its people by successively changing the criteria for being a citizen. Reeves dismissed Croft’s entire question as ‘goofy’ and only mattering to those in a University — I’m not sure where Reeves is coming from on this point, since the University is the only context in which discussion of ‘research' is relevant — and echoes others in considering Croft’s definition of research as too narrow. Reeves also takes issue with the attempt by the humanities to mirror STEM research in its definitions and models, arguing that the scientific method is not applicable in the humanities — a point I agree with. Reeves’ closing point was that we, as a discipline, need to decide how to measure composition, but not by calling it research.

Panelist 6: Ian Pace called for more careful distinctions to be made between the possible relationships of practice and research (practice-as, practice-led etc.), and also to open the debate to more perspectives; both from other disciplines (theatres, dance, etc., through their extensive engagement with PaR), and other non-practice perspectives within music. Pace presented some analysis of how much practice-as-research is happening within UK Music Depts: unfortunately the numbers passed by too quickly for me to take appropriate notes, but he promises to make a blog post of this analysis soon. [Update: the link to Ian's blog with the numbers.] Echoing Reeves, Pace identifies some worrying trends in PaR where certain types of practice are considered more research-worthy, noting that it appears 'composition mostly IS research if it involves electronics or [compositional?] systems, and performance mostly IS research if it involves extended techniques.’ Pace described how in his own specialism (notated music) there are choices, therefore interpretation, and therefore research is possible. He asks for a critical approach to research and investment in long-form critical research, being open to choices, critically interrogating these choices, and communicating them as research; though he also accepts that communication need not necessarily be through text. Pace warned of the inherent danger of textual exegesis as allowing (or even encouraging) assessors to avoid engaging with the work itself, but he takes the pragmatic view that textual documentation of practice-research as standard is ‘probably inevitable’.

Post-Panel:

In the subsequent panel responses (to each other) and audience questions, there was some useful clarification of points and positions, but often it was difficult to maintain a thread or argument, with many points going by unexamined and unconnected. This forum was very useful in demonstrating some consensus on points in response to Croft (mostly), the format was problematic as there were simply too many people on the panel for the time allowed. I assume it was constructed this way to ensure a wide breadth of perspectives was included, and in that it was successful, but 2 hours wasn’t enough to even begin to unravel all the points or to provide critical perspective. If we are to continue having these discussions then I firmly believe we need to break down the problem into topics and tackle them one at a time; as far as that is possible. Of course all of these topics interrelate and will influence each other so separating them will always be artificial, but it seems to me the only way through a discourse dominated by uncertainty over definitions and anxiety about change is to try and create SOME anchors of consensus along the way. As you can see from above, there were certain topics that came up again and again in this discussion, I address a couple of these below.

  

‘Quality':

The conflation of musical quality and research quality; the idea that good music is the same as good research. This seems to be at the root of many issues composers have with considering their work as ‘research’. The conflation is revealed in comments that I’ve heard at this event and others like it. As an example, at the 'RMA Practice as Research Symposium' in Manchester in June I heard some colleagues express disbelief along the lines that composer X, 'who is an excellent composer', did not get a research grant to write a certain piece. The disbelief appeared to rest on the assumption that a good composer must automatically be a good researcher, which to me is very problematic. This issue did not escape the Main Panel D report, which noted that 'the sector still has difficulty distinguishing excellent professional practice from practice with a clear research dimension’ (REF2014, p.100 [update: see here for the REF report]). In the same vein, towards the end of this research forum at City I asked Camden Reeves to expand upon something he’d said about music being judged on its own merits (presumably, as opposed to being judged on what’s written about it). Unfortunately, I didn’t frame the question with much care, and Reeves' somewhat indignant response shot the point down. In hindsight, what I wanted him to unpack was to what extent is it possible to judge music on its own merits in the context of research. Reeves claimed ‘on its own merit’ was self-explanatory and didn’t need expansion, I didn’t think this was such a ‘given’ because any piece of music is too open to different readings to be judged so simply and holistically. A piece can be simultaneously innovative on one level and derivative on another, it can be highly original in its development of one technique while using another without any critical reflection or apparent knowledge of others’ advances. And in artistic terms this is all fine, that’s just how composition works, but as research we need to be able to point to where and how the originality and rigour are happening. This point did come back around in another guise 10 minutes later when Reeves was arguing that we should change the conversation away from 'what is research' to assessing 'who is producing quality', by which he meant quality ‘work’, to which myself and another audience member queried how this would be assessed, but the conversation had moved on and the point withered. To me, this is another example of the conflation of artistic and research worthiness via the universal descriptor of ‘quality’, if we’re simply judging what music is ‘best’ then the question of research is meaningless (as I think Reeves believes it is), but I don't think research is commensurate with artistic quality, there is a definite difference in what the two measures are trying to gauge. The REF2014 Panel Criteria and Working Methods points to ‘originality’, ’significance’ and ‘rigour’ as its criteria for assessing research. While these can be applied to artistic quality, I struggle to imagine artistic quality being measured solely on this: that said, I struggle to imagine any sort of even partially-objective measures of artistic quality (answers on a postcard please…). Ian Pace subsequently pointed out that funding based on artistic merit is what we have the Arts Council for, and I worry that defining composition and performance as ‘research equivalent’ will put us on the short path to being ’not research’: this is especially pertinent in a context where every other performance discipline appears has to have vigorously embraced the idea of Practice as Research, where does this leave a musical practice without research?

This issue brings us right back to Christopher Fox’s first question, what do we as practitioners mean by 'research’. I sincerely believe that every composer and performer is automatically doing research in what they do, but that within the academic sphere we have (as Mera says above) a duty to explain and communicate. This is also strongly tied to the difference between professional and academic contexts. I don’t expect a composer who writes a piece for a concert to explain what they’re doing unless they want to, but in an academic context I think it’s the only way to separate the research from the piece. Because I don’t think the research is the piece. My answer to Fox’s question is that the research takes place in the process of writing the piece. It cannot happen apart from the piece and is wrapped up completely in the act of composing, but the piece is not the research. Research is (as Croft would agree I think) the thinking and doing of creating the piece. It is the response of praxis to issues raised by the unfolding of that praxis. Subsequently, for this process to be meaningful to others outside the artist’s head it also needs to be 'effectively shared’, see Exegesis below.

To echo a point of Pace’s above, when I compose I make choices, and those choices embody the research. Sometimes those choices require investigation before they can be made, and this can take a dizzying array of forms all equally valid (this might be ‘book’ research, but more likely it will be material and performative research that may be mediated through other persons — e.g. consulting with musicians — and may be difficult to document and/or unpack). Part of our problem in this debate is the legitimisation-angst this creates by calling for these forms of research to be considered valid in the face of poorly-considered comparisons with research models such as STEM and musicology, which are not appropriate in most cases. 

So what is good research in composing and performing? this is something that we as a discipline need to work out.

Exegesis:

A general sticking-point in this debate is whether, or to what degree, practitioners should use text in support of their practice submissions. Generally, the panel seemed to agree that 300 word statements are the worst of all possibilities as they (a) don’t allow enough depth of engagement with the research, and (b) they possibly increased the attractiveness of ‘gimmicky’ projects (an anxiety clearly present in Croft’s article). Mera also noted that these 300 word statements were not a REF requirement; though I get the sense that many Universities insisted on them. The Main Panel D report from REF2104 noted positives and negatives in this respect:

‘[often] presentation of practice needed no more than a well-turned 300 word statement to point up the research inquiry and its findings, since the concerns outlined were then amply apparent within the practice itself’ (REF2014, p.99)

'300 word statements too often displayed a misunderstanding of what was being asked for and provided evidence of impact from the research, or a descriptive account akin to a programme note, rather than making the case for practice as research’ (REF2014, p.100)

Some panelists were explicitly against text support, preferring the work be judged on its own terms, while some panelists explicitly called for some level of exegesis. Reeves argued against exegesis because he felt it would unfairly advantage composers who were good at writing: I’ve heard others put this argument more cynically that it would advantage those more able to write in whatever academic speak is fashionable, but this rapidly becomes more conspiracy theory than argument. I don’t find Reeves' point to be persuasive, it seems a particularly hollow form of special-pleading to argue that academics (of all people) don’t need to explain and contextualize their thoughts on a topic. Surely objective distance and the ability to analyse and explain complex ideas is exactly what academics are for.

It is clear that the REF2014 guidelines already assume that artefacts alone cannot always speak to their research concerns. Personally, I have problems with the idea that the research value of the work is accessible in the artefact itself without at least ’some’ level of help. I think words are the most effective tool to point to the research, but equally I accept that there may be useful non-textual approaches also: I would dearly love to see good examples of this, I’m sure they’re out there, please send them my way if you’re aware of any.

Conclusion:

From the discussions that I’ve observed in this debate, we appear to be reaching a consensus in this overall debate that composition neither is nor isn’t research, as both of these positions involve throwing a lot of babies out with the bathwater. The fruitful ground appears to be in the middle of the spectrum where we should identify how composition can be good research, and when it is not. I think the next question to discuss is really what we think good research is. Only then can we answer the question of how and if this is evidenced.

When composition is not research³

On November 25, 2015, at 17.30, a group of panellists will address critical perspectives on the question "Can Composition and Performance be Research?" in London. The panellists will be Ian Pace (pianist), Miguel Mera (composer), Annie Yim (pianist), Christine Dysers ("PhD student"), Camden Reeves (composer), and Christopher Fox (composer). The latter is also the editor of Tempo, the journal in which John Croft published the article that exposed the issue of composition-as-research to the widest and most intense public interest that I have witnessed so far.

As this debate initially dealt with composition, I have followed it, and engaged with it (here and here in writing, as well as in live fora) due to my general interest as expressed in this blog, but also more specifically because of my involvement with doctoral students in AR (often composers) and the fact that the AR discourse seemed to consistantly shy away from taking a clear stance in matters of composition, compared to performance. 

Ian Pace

As the discussion has now been widening its focus to cover performance as well, my interest is sparked beyond what I thought before. Ian's announcement of this event (in this post on his blog) links to a good number of writings on the subject, including a forthcoming article of his own (to be published in Tempo, also). In it, he states that:

If I say that I have learned a good deal from listening to performances and recordings of Walter Gieseking, György Cziffra, Charles Rosen, or Frederic Rzewski, or Barbara Bonney, or Nikolaus Harnoncourt, or even Marcel Pérès, this is not simply in the sense of old-fashioned conceptions of ‘influence’ and osmosis (not that these do not also occur). But I listen to these performers to garner some idea of what is distinctive about their approach, and how they have set about achieving this. In a critical, non-slavish manner it is then possible to draw upon their achievements and also to discern what other possibilities might exist, opening up a new range of interpretive – and I would say research – questions.

He goes on to compare this artistic process of seeking direction in context (my interpretation) with an example from the "wilder fringes of theatre and visual performance", stating that his approach is "no less 'research' as result". This is followed by concluding that 

[...] composition-as-research, and performance-as-research (and performance-based research) are real activities; the terms themselves are just new ways to describe what has gone on earlier, with the addition of a demand for explicit articulation to facilitate integration into academic structures.

I don't agree with the jump from "opening up research questions" to actually being "research as a result", nor do I think performance-based research should be considered on the same level (much legitimate systematic musicology - e.g. performance science - is performance-based or -led). I more than agree with that "additional demand", as I find the explication of the research to be essential to its identity. As long as it is impossible for me to assess how (and how exactly) Ian has learned from Gieseking, Cziffra, et all., how exactly this has opened up new questions, how exactly this worked in a certain way (and not in perhaps certain other ways), what the conclusions are, etc., it is not worth it to use a new term to describe the age-old process he described. Research is a collective effort, with peer-interaction as a fundamental, i.e. peer-based and peer-oriented. Contrary to matters of composition, I can consider myself to be a peer of Ian's, but, from his performances, I cannot tell any of the above to a level that informs me about his research.

A few years ago, I have had a discussion with composer Aaron Holloway-Nahum about that latter notion. I argued that I couldn't tell any compositional research aspect from looking at a score. Even on the level of composition, I cannot find myself be sure about how something is put together. His reply offered the example of a chord that consists of intervals that are stacked symmetrically around a center C, and argued that the idea and the knowledge necessary to come to that conclusion (i.e. the chord is symmetrical rather than a functional harmonic construction within a scale or key) are contained in the chord itself. Well, philosophically, that point can be pushed, yes, but when the real potential knowledge is tacit (the decisions that were involved, the choices that were made, and how the assessment of the outcome relates to the research question, etc. - not the apparent positioning of visual constituents), then by definition it resists explicit articulation and thereby merely leads to interpretation and  speculation, even for specialists. When browsing through the many folders of archival materials for Boulez's third piano sonata, it is only possible to reliably explain the knowledge or - if you will - the research processes that lie behind any given chord in such a piece when going through the work that Peter O'Hagan did. And then we still only know something about the processes of construction, which, methodical as Boulez may have been, is still not necessarily saying anything about the research premisses, methodology, or conclusions. It does not even indicate that there was any research to begin with.

One of the articles Ian's post refers to is Nicholas Till's Opus versus output. Till gives examples of what he considers historical instances of creative practice, arguing them to be research by way of retro-actively devising research questions, e.g. in the case of Arnold Schoenberg (of whom Till states that he "developed serialism"): "how can we reconstitute musical form on a non-harmonic basis?" Both the statement and the research question are not only as "confused and lacking intellectual rigour" as Till accuses "the present model [of artistic practice as research] in UK universities" of, they also demonstrate how futile it is to try and rephrase an artistic process in terms of research methodology. 

It is quite possible that Schoenberg carried out actual research, but we won't know anything about it as long we only assess the artistic output. And that is what, by definition, happens with practice-as-research.

It is too bad that I cannot be in London on the 25th - would love to hear what is being brought to the fore. If I hear of anything new, I'll be posting about it, although I am running out of superscript numbers on my keyboard to write out more follow-up titles. On the other hand, the discussion still seems to show no promise of dealing with the question of what AR in composition can be if research and composition are not equated.

Reporting on the Oslo symposium

The world of artistic research revolves quickly and there is much to see. As I can't be everywhere at all times, I have been lucky: my colleague researcher Darla Crispin gave a keynote lecture at the Oslo conference, earlier this month, and she graciously agreed to act as my guest blogger. Here's her thorough account of what she witnessed, 'up there in the cool North'. (Links inserted by me.)

 

Symposium: ‘The Art of Artistic Research’ 6-8 May 2011

The Norwegian Academy of Music hosted its first International Symposium on ‘The Art of Artistic Research’ from 6 to 8 May 2011. The Symposium had been developed to allow a deep interrogation of presented work at different stages of evolution in this new field. Appropriately, the presentations were searching, almost always strongly based in practice, and demonstrated a keen awareness of the key issues that artistic researchers grapple with – though not always able to supply ‘easy’ answers to the proposed research questions. The Symposium encouraged instead an open approach to working with ideas, and this was of particular benefit to the doctoral students in attendance. Expert Panels were conducted periodically, and included the pianist, Leif Ove Andsnes, who is proud to call himself an artist-researcher!

The ‘Symposium’ model was developed for this event in order to provide an opportunity to discuss various approaches to artistic research. In default of any generally approved definition (of artistic research), there is a continuing need for establishing good examples, relevant research models and a common understanding. The aim of the Symposium was to enhance a collective discussion and reflection on various questions related to artistic research.

The event was organized around four themes:

1) Craftsmanship and Artistic Research
2) The Concert
3) Interdisciplinarity in Arts
4) Defining Artistic Research

Ian Pace (City University, London) gave the opening keynote relating to craftsmanship, relating his analysis of the postwar evolution of piano performances – including the politicization of performance styles – to some of the current themes of artistic research, such as how small-scale aspects of craft might be read in the current turbulent political landscape for Western classical music. As a context to this, he also presented a short recital, including Johannes Brahms’ Klavierstücke Op. 118, Claude Debussy’s Images Book II, and a rare performance of Karlheinz Stockhausen’s Klavierstück X, which he performed clad in protective gloves.

Pace’s keynote and the short papers within the thematic group all pointed up the challenges of generating artistic research questions from personal observations from within practice. Some, like Pace, relate their practice very rapidly to existing knowledge – but we witnessed others less certain in their thought-trajectories, and focused more intently of the personal insights of their own practice, prior to the process of contextualization.

This lack of certainty, its potential to leave space for new understanding, also means that musical performance itself has the potential to be transformed by the findings of artist researchers. This potential was discussed by MartinTröndle (Zeppelin University Friedrichshafen) in a trenchant keynote: ‘Transforming performing: new concepts for new audiences’. Tröndle presented a series of sobering statistics for performers attached to traditional concert-giving paradigms, but then challenged his listeners to use artistic research itself as a means of rethinking the manner of musical presentation. There was some resistance to his message in the form of concern that the musical content was being challenged by media packaging and virtuosic light shows, but the current turbulence in the funding for the arts is undeniable, and is an important component for consideration in the world of artistic research, where the scholarly and professional spheres often clash. Examples of contrasting consequences to this were heard in the accompanying papers, from the negative reception of Rudolf Kolisch’s Beethoven cadenzas in America, to the positive revivification of the carillon through innovative approaches to improvisation and performance practice: Carl van Einhoven’s video of his jazz performance on the carillon will stay long in the memory.

This pointed up another challenge for artist-researchers: the necessity to go beyond research in musical practice to learn from other disciplines. ‘Interdisciplinarity was thus an important theme of the Symposium, and was vividly discussed by Sally Jane Norman (University of Sussex) in her keynote: ‘Interdisciplinarity through and beyond the Arts’. She presented numerous examples of projects in which the work engaged with collaborative interdisciplinary practice, relations between art and technology, and disruptive innovation processes. She was also able to offer some insights on research and cultural policy frameworks, which form another site of interface with which artistic research must engage.

As the Symposium, questions arose about how artistic research was going to generate it own critical theories. In her keynote, Darla Crispin (Orpheus Research Centre in Music) drew together all the themes of the Symposium and proposed one model of how the very specific experimentation and observation processes of the artist-researcher might generate broad interpretative frameworks; in her case, this involved relating aspects of Anton Webern’s Piano Variations Op. 27 with the development of a theory for understanding ethics in relation to music performance. This led into a dedicated session for 3rd cycle students, who are developing their own projects in light of their findings during the Symposium.

Erlend Hovland and Otto Christian Pay are to be congratulated for setting up a very good event. The time keeping was precise, especially on the first day, and the programme had been developed with many long, open slots for group discussion. Many of these talks were very productive, sometimes through strong words and unresolved philosophical disagreements, but also with respectful, open research attitudes. Hopefully, this will be the first of a series of such events within the Norwegian Academy of Music.