Music and Contemplation

Saraswati: goddess of music, wisdom, art, and knowledge

The spirit that animates the music of traditional civilizations is very different than the one which dominates our modern Western culture. I think that one of the factors behind this great difference is the West's exaltation of action which has become opposed to contemplation.

It does not take great powers of perception to see that Western society is propelled by action, there is a tangible and inescapable obsession with work and production, and we see the fruits of this all around us: from our private time spent gazing into the void of virtual worlds to the sparkling towers which dominate the horizon of the earth. Activity which is not entertainment or work has no place in such a world, intellectual activity is not understood and even looked down upon, this is the natural result of the unnatural glorification of action, and it poisons everything it comes into contact with. Much has been written on this wide and important topic, and it is not my purpose to set forth a full exposition of the significance of contemplation and action (for this I would recommend Pieper's Leisure the Basis of Culture and Guenon's The Crisis of the Modern World), here I wish only to focus on how these principles apply to music and see what deeper meanings we can draw from them. As always, what I say here is only some aspects of the greater picture, not an exhaustive or perfect treatment.

Gould Plays Bach

Far from being the flat, uninspiring, academic music that it’s made out to be, Glenn Gould showcases Bach at his most dynamic and powerful, with dramatic force and emotion that rivals the works of the great romantics.

This is a video I’ve returned to again and again over the years, it's probably my favourite recording of classical music. 

The performance starts at about 5:08.

A North American Raga

A strange and beautiful piece of American folk. Robbie Basho's music is virtuous and eclectic, with influences ranging from country music to Indian raga.

Basho's (and John Fahey's) music has the same hypnotic quality that I find in listening to Bach's fugues: from a simple theme you are carried down a relentless stream of dense, interweaving lines that work together to create a harmonious unity. Heavily layered music like this has tremendous re-play quality because all of the parts simply cannot be taken in all at once, for they reveal themselves gradually with every listen.