Let the Trumpets Blare
There is something sad about the musical instrument wing of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. To be sure, it is filled with lovely things: harpsichords, a gorgeous cello, guitars, even a harpo-lyre. I can't help thinking, however, that this is little more than a chronicle of instruments unplayed.It is of course true that some of the items on display are more works of art than works of instrumental craftsmanship, and perhaps it makes sense that Namur's Belgian guitar (with its parquetry decoration) or Voboam's 17th-century Parisian guitar (complete with patterns of tortoiseshell, ebony, and ivory) should be on permanent display in the art museum. Maybe we can justify the Tibetan trumpet, the Chinese gongs, and numerous other foreign instruments, too; after all, they are instruments that we don't see every day, and the museum is a valuable cultural as well as artistic repository. But the three Stradivarius violins? The numerous pianos? Even the organ, not particularly remarkable and very like those found in any number of churches across America? Sure, in some way they chronicle the development of modern instruments, and in some way each are objects of great worth and value that, it is at least arguable, ought to be publicly accessible.
But not like this. Not silent, unplayed, in a museum with deaf ears. These instruments are preserved, looked after, researched, and analyzed--but they are nearly never played. What good is an exhibit like that?
Incidentally, and not that tangentially, I feel the same way about rare old books. They should not be acquired by museums merely to be put behind glass, allowing us to appreciate all of two whole pages. Rather, we should put them in publicly-accessible archives (or even private libraries) where they might be read, enjoyed, researched, and--gasp!--handled as books are meant to be. One of my greatest joys at Cornell was to venture into the Rare Books and Manuscript Collection, to request a lovely old volume, and just to sit and read it. Because, after all, old (or financially valuable) things should not be so revered that we forget what they are for, and thereby lose all joy of them.
posted by Skay @ 10:45 PM
4 Comments:
Instruments unplayed… I get an image of guitars sitting in their stands, a french horn laying on the ground, a trumpet standing on it’s bell, an empty microphone stand, and a double bass propped in the corner. Maybe a wooden stool, with a violin laid on top. Maybe the french horn is propped against the base of the stool so you can see it’s tubing. It’s a black and white picture, the area of the instruments lit by a spotlight, the background an impenetrable black, concealing the presence or absence of any musicians possibly waiting in the wings. Maybe part of a drum set is half in, half out of the spotlight, on the right, and to the left a paino angled away from the focal point so you can see part of the keyboard. There might be a little haze in the air, lingering cigarette smoke, as if this is a jazz club after hours. I wish I could photgraph that scene.
But then, I have a penchant for being (seemingly) alone in normally busy places, like a mall just after the stores are closed, or (when I was a student) walking through the school halls long after regular classes had ended. Empty city streets at late late at night is another ‘empty’ place I sometimes like to go.
Maybe I just spend too much time with my shadow.
I agree, the instruments should be played. Especially the Stradavariuses. They are supposed to be the pinnacle of string insturment craftsmanship, they do noone any good behind glass cases. They need to be played to be appreciated. But I am more cautious regarding books. Some pages of very old books are fragile, and will crumble away at the slightest touch. Sometimes those display cases are the only way to allow any interaction between audience and tome. This is, of course, after the book has been copied so it’s contents can still be enjoyed by the masses. I do believe in the preservation of books.
I think I’d like this museum of yours. Especially if I could be in there and feel I was the only person there, have only my own footsteps echoing in the halls at the time.
Crag,
I think you'd like my museum too, though perhaps calling it "mine" is a bit too bold. I like your picture of instruments unplayed, but I assure you that unfortunately the curation of these particular instruments is not nearly so aesthetically pleasing.
As for books: it is true that they can crumble away--but then, they will anyway. It's just a question of how long this will take. And I remain completely unconvinced that a book is doing anybody any good if left in a perpetual state of unread preservation (at least, until it falls apart altogether). Things are ephemeral. And while we shouldn't try to speed on something's destruction (if only out of a respect for and as a continued token of history), to cease to use and thereby fully enjoy an object of any sort before its time has come seems... well, sad, as well as simply irrational.
Well, you have a point there, Skay. We create things to be used, not put on a pedestal.
Even if I was told as a kid that my Star Wars figures would be worth a bundle in mint condition, would I have not taken them out of the box and played with them? Nah. They were given to me (or I saved and bought them) to play with, and I played with them for many hours as a child.
The analogy is weak, but I think you get the point.
Skay: 1. blackcrag: 1
P.S. The museum belongs to the people. You are a citizen of the museum’s home town. The museum is as much yours as anybody’s. Just not exclusively yours.
It appears that I get the point in more than one way. :)
I hope those Star Wars figures were loads of fun...
Post a Comment
<< Home