If I live to be 80, I will have lived roughly 16% of the time during which codified classical music has existed (starting around 1550). My mind was blown when I realized that. 16% is a pretty large percentage, if you think about it. So much has changed in such a short amount of time, and it makes me reflect on how quickly things are evolving at this very moment, and the importance of what is occurring musically.
The other day I said to a friend that I believed we were in the midst of a modern Renaissance. Those are pretty big words, but I based that statement on the existence of current technology, which is (obviously) also evolving and progressing at an alarming rate. The technology available has put music and a multitude of access channels at the fingertips of virtually everyone. And everyone now has the ability to experiment at whim for a negligible amount of money and/or training. Add to that, that art feeds on art. The potential to find the most talent is now at its highest for all of these reasons, and more.
Am I happy about the saturation of the market? I don't know. Hadn't really thought about that. I suppose I am... I like art, and I like when people get excited about it. So in a way, technology is opening the doors for many people to be creative.
On the flip side, I've always been a fan of tactile creation, and I think technology has drawn people away from that. For me, the sensation of touch is so expressive in itself, and it lets me feel the experience of creating physically. Even when I write here, directly onto the computer, it's just getting words out. I don't feel like it's really writing. I miss the sound and scratch of the pen (I know exactly which pen, too. Pilot Precise v5. Yes, they can smear... just let it dry!) and the smell of the ink and paper. I like the way the sheet feels on the side of my palm as I move my hand across the page. I also like the way that my handwriting changes depending on my mood, or how furiously I need to get the words into physical form before they vaporize. I like the slow spread of the ink pigments into the fibers of the paper when I linger on a punctuation, finalizing what is most likely a profoundly true, often brooding statement. And I like that, if you look closely enough, the blot doesn't expand as a perfect circle, but follows an uneven nest of filaments. I like the sound that my pen makes when I tap its cap on my notebook, in a rhythmic ponder to the next phrase. I love all of that. And you just don't get that when you type your thoughts directly into a machine.
You know what I hate? The glow of the computer screen. It gives me the same unrested feel I get when I'm in a small room (or even a big one, for that matter,) with cheap, fluorescent, hazy green, ceiling lights. *shudder* Computers are totally necessary, of course, and mine has served me well (though equally a time-suck). But I'll always prefer to touch and smell my notebook.
What a rambling post...
Here we go, Day 199: https://ia600804.us.archive.org/35/items/Improv22912/20120229150715.mp3
No comments:
Post a Comment