There's an old Woody Allen joke that goes something like this: “Some people strive for immortality through the art they create. I prefer to strive for immortality by living forever.” I'm not sure what got me thinking about posterity lately. Perhaps it was my last column where I considered the importance of preserving musical heritage. Also, a few days ago, the Polish composer Henryk Górecki died. He was 76 and might never have been known by the general concert going public were it not for one piece of his–his Third Symphony, also known as his “Symphony of Sorrowful Songs.” This all leads me to wonder why some music survives at all. Sometimes music survives because of its great beauty, like Vivaldi's The Four Seasons. Sometimes music survives because it is so singable, like the children's songs we grew up with, or like Mozart's “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik.” Sometimes music survives purely because of its historic value. In my music history class I play a recording of a piece of early Roman music from the 1st century A.D. (there are only about 12 pieces that come down to us from this early age). This particular piece was a song carved onto a patron's tomb. It's a nice song. I don't know if it's a great song. But any music that has survived for two thousand years ago deserves our attention. And what is particularly remarkable is that the music is still understandable and speaks to us this very day. There are other reasons why music lasts or becomes resurrected. Sometimes music that was once buried reaches the surface because of its greatness. This is what happened to Bach‘s music, which was all but lost for over half a century until it was resurrected by the composer Felix Mendelssohn in the early nineteenth century. Sometimes a composer expects that his music will be buried and discovered later. In his life, some of Beethoven's music was too progressive to be understood. When challenged by his critics, Beethoven replied “This music is for a later generation.” Yet I also think about other music that survives. We think that time is the great art critic that buries works that are inadequate and preserves those that are most worthy. Yet is this always he case? The cynic in me can't help considering all the musicologists and Ph.D. students whose careers are built upon discovering or uncovering what had for so long been buried. In some cases, what is brought to light can be remarkable, like a rare work of Mozart's. Sometimes what is uncovered is less remarkable. So unless you're a Mozart or a Beethoven or a Bach, why compose? Why create at all? I suppose that by creating, we try to leave to a signal that we were once here. Like carving initials onto a tree or hieroglyphics onto a tomb, it is a message that honors our existence. A musical legacy, like every other kind of legacy becomes a connection through the ages. The music of Górecki will achieve that connection. But I can't help wonder if any of my music will transcend generations. Will any of my music be buried by the sands of time only to be discovered by a Ph.D. student looking for someone unknown on which to do his or her thesis? In the end, we can all speculate on whether or not what we do will have a lasting and beneficial effect on our world. Or, we can be like Woody Allen and just try to live forever. A portion of Gorecki's beautiful Symphony No. 3 Can be heard on Youtube. BM
