Early Music is apparently in trouble – or so I hear. There's a perception that the field is not growing; that the audience today is comprised of the same people who came to Renaissance music concerts in their Birkenstocks in 1976. Recently I was informed that most of the members of the American Recorder Society and Early Music America are also eligible for membership in AARP, or soon to be so.
Is this true? And if so, why? Many early music performers and aficionados chalk this up to the same bugaboos that are besetting the classical music world in general: not enough public support, not enough education of the young, the demise of record stores and classical music labels, fewer labels wanting to invest in “fringe” repertoire, pop music heralding the demise of western civilization, and the hand-wringing goes on and on.
As a person who has been broadcasting so-called early music for 15 years and teaching it full-time for seven, here is my newsflash: Medieval, Renaissance and Baroque music are NOT in danger. The act of playing medieval, Renaissance, and Baroque music on historical instruments is also NOT in trouble. “Early Music,” however, may be in trouble.
“Early Music” is a concept – an invention of the 1960s and 1970s. Yes, it was a new, useful, innovative, and creative approach to the performance of particularly old Euro-Anglo music, despite the fact that the term “early music” itself was very problematic (what the hell does it mean?) and difficult to explain to the uninitiated. But the advent of the historical performance movement fired the imagination at a time when experimentation, and doing something that was “off the beaten track,” was both fashionable and encouraged. Hearing the music on the original period instruments was a revelation. Discovering new techniques, new pieces, and new approaches was refreshing. The repertoire also provided both performers and listeners with a musical experience that was at once “new” and yet strangely “familiar.” (For a good sampling of both Dorian and Mixolydian mode, I refer you to 1) most hymnals and 2) the entire plethora of 1960s British Invasion bands; for modal contrapuntal guitar pyrotechnics and some Fun With Rhythmic Prolations, I refer you to Led Zeppelin.) Even the vexing “Authenticity” problem, which put the movement in danger of disappearing into a vortex of “Earlier Than Thou” preciousness, was eventually put to rest as many of us took a slightly more ethnomusicological approach to the field, realizing that the past is, in fact, a different country, and we cannot create an “authentic” performance of anything before this morning without access to Bill and Ted’s Most Excellent Time-Traveling Phone Booth. We became more interested in an “authenticity” that had to do with the integrity of the performer and the scholarship that went into the historical performance method.
Meanwhile, the “early music” movement gained momentum like a snowball rolling down Taos Mountain’s triple-diamond slope. In the late 1980s and early to mid 1990s, early music represented the majority of classical music sales – OK, the numbers still aren’t exactly worrying Britney Spears, but it is a considerable percentage. So what has gone wrong? Where are all the younger “early music” people? What went wrong, in my opinion, is that the concept of “early music” as a
self-contained entity has reached its expiration date – an expiration date that was programmed into it from the very beginning of its existence.
Let me attempt to explain my thoughts here.
It is impossible to sustain the image of “early music” as a NEW approach to performing the music of the 11th to the 18th centuries. At some point, the techniques of historical performance either had to be absorbed into the mainstream of classical music approaches, or people had to decide that they were not valid. Fortunately, the former has happened, and with flying colors. A person who wants to specialize in Baroque violin is no longer “on the fringe.” It is now considered normal for a conductor of a “modern” chamber orchestra to explore some of the techniques and performance practices that were championed by the “early music” players of earlier decades. A number of players are active in several different musical genres. As a result, we have a whole generation of performers who are quite active in these areas, and who play period instruments – in Baroque and Classical music in particular – but who do not necessarily
self-identify as exclusively “early music” performers. They are much more apt to tell you that they specialize in chamber music. Many of them also play other kinds of music: mainstream classical, New Music, rock and roll, ambient music, Irish traditional music…
It is folly to try to market 700 years worth of music as one genre. In my opinion, this might be the single biggest mistake that the “early music movement” has made. It is not possible to describe, market, practice, or sustain this enormous repertoire of incredibly diverse music as One Large Category. (It doesn’t work that well with “World Music” either, although the marketing of World Music was done a bit more successfully.)
Presenters of concert series, for example, have found themselves in an interesting situation. Suppose their funding and their mission allows for one concert of New Music, one concert of World Music, and one concert of “early music” per year. On their desk are demo recordings of three exciting concerts: An all-Biber concert by a great young Baroque ensemble; a concert of New Music written for violas da gamba; and a performance of medieval Gallego-Portuguese Cantigas de Santa Maria. According to the established category of “early music,” the presenter will choose one of these concerts for their ‘early music’ niche. In fact, each of those three performances satisfies the criteria of a different category in their concert season; they could actually have all three and never stray from their mission.
Even in radio, the “early music” category could be problematic. On the one hand, it lent an enormous amount of freedom and diversity to the programming of a weekly hour of music (as I know well, having been the producer / host of a national early music radio program for many years.) On the other hand, it could be difficult to sell the program, because many program directors felt that they already incorporated plenty of “early music” into their daily playlists. In point of fact, their daily playlists contain loads of Baroque and early classical music, but not the earlier stuff, which in the case of my program has been the more prevalent repertoire programmed. However, since it was all lumped together in the category of “early music,” many program directors saw no point in adding more to their playlist.
Medieval music in particular, and some secular Renaissance music, has suffered from this narrow categorization, being the fringe of the fringe of “early music.” A concert of Playford dances, or medieval Italian
laude spirituali done with voices and instruments, would both be completely appropriate for most folk festivals; yet many “early music” people don’t even attempt to market themselves to this demographic, and the folk and world music presenters have often not been made aware that this is an option for them. But if we want more people to hear medieval music – if we don’t want to limit it to the audiences who go to the “earliest” of the “early music” concerts (in other words, the weirdest) – it is absolutely crucial that we figure this out. A medieval ensemble should have a different presenter list than the one maintained by the baroque ensemble. But we have not done this. Not only have we tried to market it all to the same people, but even at our festivals we have often relegated the medieval concerts to some insane midnight hour, thus ensuring that it will be kept on the fringe, rather than have the medieval concert at a sane hour at a venue that normally is frequented by the world- and folk- music crowd (and by the way, this can also be a church – no reason to sacrifice the acoustic.)
We are also guilty of selling potential audiences short. This is a fault we share with a number of musics that attract “purists,” jazz and traditional folk being two other culprits. Why are we not putting the posters for our sacred chant concert at the local New-Age bookstore? (God forbid we should be associated with those new-age types.) Why doesn’t the Playford band advertise their concert to the local chapter of the SCA? (OK, the audience might show up in costume – but they have ears and hearts, and they can have a sincere and deep reaction to the music, even if they have a different approach to historical re-enactment than you do.)
Audiences can tell if you think you are smarter / better / hipper than they are. And if they sense that, your audience will end up always being the same 26 people whom you deign to consider your equal.
While I’m on this rant, here’s another question: why do we record all “early music” the same way? If you think your particular flavor of “early music” is going to have a stronger appeal to the people who buy world and folk music, why not record it the way world and folk music is recorded? I’m not suggesting that you should sing Hildegard with a click track; however, it’s not outrageous to consider utilizing some multitrack digital technology in the process of recording a bunch of Cantigas de Santa Maria (at least, not in my opinion.) The mixing and mastering process is also different in folk and world music (unless it’s a field recording.) Ever notice that classical music records are way lower in volume than other genres of recorded music, even if those other genres are all acoustic? Any idea how much iPod volume-twiddling this requires (or setting of radio levels? It drives radio engineers nuts.) Why not experiment? Forget about authenticity. Music, once the most impermanent of all art forms, is now the most precisely preserved for posterity. The minute you stick a microphone in front of a medieval instrument, the process is no longer medieval, whether you are recording direct to digital with no edits (which, granted, is fine, and is what I’ve always done), or recording the basic tracks and then layering on extra vocals and instrumental parts (which I admit I would very much like to try with some medieval repertoire, just to see what happens.)
All right, enough ranting. What are we supposed to do about all of this? How do we attract younger listeners and players to early music?
Well, first of all, understand that
They Are Out There. The repertoire is far from dead, and the ears of people under 40 are just as open to medieval, Renaissance and Baroque music as those of their older brothers and sisters. They also are just as fascinated by, and attracted to, historical instruments. This is not just true in Boston, San Francisco, Seattle, and New York; I see their reactions every day, and I live out on the prairie 400 miles from Lah-Lah-Land. I have no "magic bullet" for attracting them, but I know for sure that we have to BE where they ARE.This may require thinking outside the Baby Boomer Box. Here are a few suggestions:
----- If you want someone between 18 and 30 to hear some “early music,” don’t wait around for them to hear it on NPR. Be where they are. They are on the Internet. Make a great video and put that sucker on YouTube. Use the media they listen to and watch.
----- Here's another place where they are: in school. Encourage the absorption of early music techniques into the mainstream of classical music, including classical music curriculum. It’s not necessary to have an official “Early Music Department” in order to have an “Introduction to Performance Practice” course, nor is it necessary to have a battalion of early instruments on hand.) It’s not even necessary to have a battalion of early instruments in order to play early music, as blasphemous as that may sound. They have to be introduced to it somehow, and if you need a hundred-thousand dollar grant to introduce them to it, it ain’t gonna happen in most college situations.
----- If you want younger kids to hear “early music,” put together an exciting program and bring it to the local high school or middle school. If you have college students who play early music, encourage them to do these presentations, so that the high school kids can see people close to their own age playing the stuff along with Grandma. (Two caveats: 1) Don’t expect to make money doing this. 2) If the persons involved at the schools can only wrap their brains around this if you are willing to climb into a costume or wear a funny hat, either get a good persuasive speech about why it's not necessary, or gut it out and take one for the team.
----- Allow the times to change. Make yourselves a killer website with interactivity and bells and whistles. (I know, I haven't done this yet. I haven't had time because of the above bullet points. I know it needs to be done.) Don’t wait around to “get signed;” get your CD on iTunes, put it on CDBaby. Call it (and the video) something that will show up in an internet search, so that when some kid is searching for a video game where two medieval avatars are knocking each other’s blocks off, your video just may Google up. Think about marketing the CD with some other descriptive term in addition to "Early Music," because no one seems to know what the hell early music is.
Early Music is "not dead yet." It may be driving up the wrong road looking for the party, but it ain't dead. We just need to point it in the right direction.
