THE POODLE FACTOR

Despite the fact that classical music is now listened to by only 2% of the public in North America, this audience is resistant and even hostile to change. Even the eminently sensible introduction of supertitles at performances of operas caused howls of protest by the classical purists. And instead of accepting progress and improvements in technology, the most significant development in classical music in recent times has been the rise of the period instrument fad which began in England and spread to the continent. (Yet another reason to mock the Brits.)

In all ages past, when the technology improved and new instruments appeared, these advances were accepted with alacrity by all composers. When the pianoforte was developed, all of Europe's musicians set their clavichords out by the curb for the junkman. When the valved saxhorns were invented, composers immediately began scoring for them, and the serpent and the ophicleide became as extinct as trilobites.

But now, classical music has shifted into reverse, and it instead offers audiences antique instruments which sound terrible and are often impossible to play in tune. Why is this? Why has the art form which has traditionally been the most advanced and the first to embrace new technology, now regressed into antiquity and practices which are certain to further alienate the general public?

The reason is that majority of classical meyvns now are professorial types who have typically made careers out of cataloguing the use of the subjunctive conditional in the works of Shakespeare. They're old ladies with poodles, effeminate men, those who think that fun is of dubious value and should likely be punished, those whose idea of a good time is an evening spent reading the opinions of George Will, the chemically pure, those who suffer from the discomfort of irregularity.

Such people may not appreciate music at all—indeed, I suspect that some may be tone deaf—but classical music appeals to them because it's old and hence safe. A person who proclaims himself to be interested in classical music does so to demonstrate how serious he is, and classical music certifies that his intellectual attainment and/or his socioeconomic status is far above average. Such a superior being would not listen to folk music (which all the great composers delighted in and employed in their works)—or at least would not be seen listening to folk music any more than he would allow himself to be seen sitting in his underwear, drinking beer out of a plastic cup. What he desires above all things and at all costs is to be perceived as being respectable—and not a whit below the mark. When questioned, such a person will say, Why of course I listen to the music of the great masters—I'm a very serious person, and I thus prefer serious music!

Since nothing is more serious than a museum, that is precisely what the entire oeuvre of classical music has been turned into—an aural museum. It is listened to because it is respectable, and it is respectable because it is old. If any advance in technology were to be adopted, it would no longer be old, and it would thus lose its patina of respectability.

That's how it works.

Beside museums, the other most serious thing in society is worship, and that's why classical concerts, instead of being exciting or fun, have been turned into such dismal and solemn gatherings. (I'm amazed that we haven't adopted the old puritan custom of ushers patrolling the aisles with hardwood poles ready to knock sleepers on the head.) Despite however rousing the music may be, the audience must not react in any way (until, ironically, the music has ended), because that is exactly how one must behave during divine worship.

That's also why the classical repertoire has become so limited in recent years. Masterpieces are like sacred relics; it queers the whole racket if there are plenty of them to go around. But if we venerate only a few holy relics—the true masterpieces, such as the symphonies of Beethoven—then we're getting the real deal. Handel's Messiah is thus like a piece of the True Cross, but a symphony by Franz Berwald is of no interest—about as sacred as the pail of St. Birgid (the zaftig patron saint of milkmaids).

Young people generally have a difficult time at worship and must be told to sit still, and likewise they must be forced to listen to classical music. To perform this task we have schoolmarms (always the most serious of people—NO TALKING DURING A FIRE DRILL!) who introduce children to classical music by telling them that poor Beethoven went deaf and that, alas!, Schubert died when he was only 31! My God! Isn't that serious? Doesn't it make you feel guilty about not listening to classical music? (Even if you still don't listen to it, it's important to continue feeling guilty.)

If I understand the pedagogue's train of thought correctly, and I believe that I am making a fair and honest presentation of this attitude, you should listen to classical music because it is good for you. Listening to Mozart will make you a better student. You will be uplifted by it an become a more noble person. Classical music will enable you to remain faithful to your spouse. Your root canal procedure will become painless while listening to classical music. Dogs will no longer bark at you. You will pass nectar and expel a floral bouquet when your sphincter parts. Birds (clean ones) will follow you around. Your chances of attaining eternal bliss in the afterlife will increase by 35% or more, and if you are already skilled at playing the harp, you will have an advantage over the other angels.

With it presented in such a way, I would be worried about any young person who listened to classical music. Adolescence is supposed to be a time of mania and rebellion, and although there were originally plenty of such emotions in classical music, all the élan vital has now been sucked out, and what is presented are the desiccated relics. This is what the schoolmarms and matrons have done to music, and it is no wonder that young people regard a classical performance about as attractive as a dental appointment.

The prim and respectable people have hijacked classical music. They are usurpers who have disguised classical music to their liking. They have refashioned it into something scarcely recognizable to the rakes and roués who originally created it. Such practical jokers as Hans Brahms and Max Reger would likely install whoopee cushions on the seats of concert halls if they were alive today, but as it is, the transformation of their work into museum pieces is yet another torture they must bear in Hell.

It's entirely possible that with a few imaginative changes, classical music could become much more popular than it currently is. But between the matrons with poodles and the pedagogues and the puritans, this will never happen. Classical music is doomed to a sterile and arid eternity inside a glass case.