There are two kinds of people. There are those that listen to classical music and those that don't.
You know this is true because you've seen them. In record stores, the "classical" section is usually separated from the rest of the store; it has a more serious decor, a more serious clientele, and more serious music playing in the background. Sometimes there are even serious video displays, banks of television screens showing overweight people galumphing about a stage and bellowing in a foreign language. The overall impression one gets is that classical music is a very serious affair.
You also know that there are only two kinds of people because you, faithful reader, are either one or the other. If you are the kind of person who already listens to classical music, skip to the next page. If you're not, or if you're not sure, then I have a chance to convert you.
I want to convince you that you should listen to classical music. Not because classical music is intrinsically superior to all other forms of musical expression, not because it is more serious or more profound and not because it is your duty, if you wish to become an educated citizen of the world, to acquire a smattering of "culture". It is probably because of people telling you things like that that you have never wanted to listen to classical music in the first place. They are the same ones who insist that you be able to rattle off composers and titles, opus numbers and keys, if you dare express an interest in, say, Beethoven's symphonies.
They're wrong. The only valid reason why you should listen to classical music is that it is enjoyable. It is fun. It can even be moving and inspiring
These things may seem obvious, but it is easy to lose sight of the real motivation that drives hardcore classical music listeners when they cloak their enjoyments with a veil of esotericism, exchanging knowing winks and nods at the sales counter when someone asks who the composer of "Don Giovanni" was.
Similarly, classical record companies trade in a commodity that is aggressively marketed as "highculture", occasionally making condescending gestures to the uninitiate masses in the form of "classical compilations" or "greatest hits" albums. Theirs is the currency of snobbery, calculated to impress rather than to invite.
Maybe you've never wanted to listen to classical music because of the image that these people project. When examined critically, though, their definition of classical music disintegrates.
First, the word "classical". If it were spelled with a capital "C", it would denote a very narrow body of music composed primarily during the second half of the eighteenth century, according to a number of more-or-less definite rules guiding the practice of composition. In this sense, the only truly Classical composers are people like Haydn and Mozart (and even this comes under debate). Neither Bach nor Wagner would qualify.
What the term "classical music" really means when used to identify a section in a record store or listings in a newspaper is music that is not other things--not jazz or rock or folk. But this distinction is not rigid. There are cases, like the Chronos Quartet or George Gershwin, that straddle several of these categories. The word classical is, at best, a shorthand term for a body of music that most people recognize but that nobody can define with absolute precision.
Classical music is simply not as homogeneous as its name implies. That is why you can like Stravinsky and hate Handel, or the other way around. It is why two musicians can perform the same piece in two totally different ways. Despite its rigid appearance, the world of classical music is entirely free and open.
This comes from the second word in its definition. Classical music is nothing more than music (in the way that there is no quantity greater than infinity). Nothing more, and nothing less. The notion that you need to acquire the taste or become educated in musical history and theory in order to listen to classical music with enjoyment is bunk.
Why do you listen to the kind of music you already enjoy? The question is unanswerable. You can patch together a kind of excuse, invoking reasons that can account for the accident by which you discovered your favorite artist or group, but taste can never be ultimately explained. That is why you should try classical music: you can't be sure that you won't like what you hear. Approach what you listen with only one prejudice--that it is probably enjoyable.
If you start to listen to things other than the "warhorses" of the classical repertoire, you'll find things that you recognize: folk tunes in Dvorak, jazz rhythms in Ravel, and humor in Mozart's operas (try the "Magic Flute"). In any case, you've already mastered the basics if you can recognize a melody and move to a rhythm.
If I can presume that I have convinced you to try classical music, I should at least do the courtesy of telling you where to start. The answer is: anywhere. There is no single best introduction to five centuries' worth of the music of the western world.
Whatever approach you take, be sure to ignore those who tell you what you need to listen to, but cherish the advice of those who share with you the pieces and composers that they love. Accept people's sincere advice, but reject their snobbery. For there is nothing more exciting than the discovery that you share someone else's tastes. And remember that you can listen to everything, but you are not obliged to listen to anything. You will develop a passion for classical music, but only if it is a delight and not a duty.
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