Blessed Saint Patrick

 

March 17, 2023

Blessed Saint Patrick

Last night’s rehearsal: infuriating. 

Made a stew of many ingredients, then added sour cream. White stew is a little off-putting, but delicious. 

ASC plans a Mother’s Day concert of music by women. Classical music stations quarry pieces by women to play on the air. One of our chorus pieces is by Amy Beach, a truly colossal Mass. The mass is very big but also dull as your everyday dishes, its high points engineered to resemble the high points of the greats. Of all the new women’s pieces I’ve heard, none has been important in the same sense as Schubert or Mendelssohn are important– the B sides of their brothers’ masterpieces. This observation cannot be shared in any imaginable conversation, being for the moment a forbidden thought. If asked by an angel whether I think male art is better–in general–than female art, I would–to the angel alone–answer yes. It seems so to me. I have dedicated my life to the perception and evaluation of art, and it seems so to me. To the anticipated objections that I am used to male art and have not learned to appreciate a female perspective, that I prefer the art of men being one myself, that the best works by women have somehow been kept from the public, I have no response. Any or all of those could be true. If I set up a test where music is played behind a screen without anyone knowing who wrote it, and all present choose the piece by the man, the argument would still be made that our very ears have been twisted by the Patriarchy. Years ago in one the Lit Dept’s writing contests, all the winners were men, all the judges women. A young woman came to protest, and I told her that, and she said “Even the judgment of women is pervaded by patriarchal prejudices.” One wastes time trying to argue concepts which are, essentially, articles of faith.