OCT 24, 2024 | OPINION | By Emmanuel Mercedes
Thursday, Oct. 10, just as the Ensemble Musica Humana performances were about to commence in Cornerstone’s Flex Room, I felt a sense of theatricality as if entering a Broadway play. The anticipation in the room was palpable, with the crowd uniformly gathered around the stage and the orchestra huddled together, perhaps making last-minute adjustments or simply catching up. Little did I know that this would be more than just another ensemble performance. From the moment the musicians spoke in accents, the audience was transported to another time, immersed in Old Britannic English.
The stage was set perfectly for this journey through time: soft, warm lighting, wooden floors, and the presence of a fortepiano. The production team had gone to great lengths to recreate the intimacy of a pre-industrial classical music experience. This attention to detail extended beyond the visual elements into the music itself. The performers’ vocals, often sung in minor keys, evoked the mood of an old-world opera. In particular, the harmonies of the lead singers reminded me of the haunting, reflective numbers in Amy Herzog’s “An Enemy of the People,” which played on Broadway earlier this year.
Midway through the performance, the audience was drawn to the fortepiano, which took center stage in both sound and sight. At one point, I wandered closer to see what had captivated so many. The fortepiano’s mechanics were revealed in all their intricate beauty, with piston-like wooden pieces rising and falling as the performer played. It was a striking visual metaphor for the overall cohesiveness of the ensemble; just as the piano’s inner workings powered the melody, so did the musicians worked together in harmony, listening and responding to one another like a finely tuned engine.
One particularly memorable moment came when Dr. Gili Loftus, the pianist, was asked by fellow critics what went through her mind as she played her solo piece. Her response, which spoke to the potential of music to touch one’s soul, resonated deeply with me. The soul, as Hozier sings in his song “First Time,” “is the uneasy ally of the body,” wanting to travel into our standard mode of life with nowhere to get there. However, as shown by Dr. Loftus’ experience with the piece, the soul can live in these modes through art mediums, such as music. When we understand the relationship of the observer to the music, music reaches a sense of objectivity through subjective perceptions of the pieces.
This message is further illustrated by Dr. Loftus tuning the fortepiano in the middle of the performance, showcasing not only her expertise in the music needed for her performance but also her ability in nature to become one with the instrument. At that moment, the line between musician and music blurred, and we, as the audience, were privileged to witness the seamless interplay between performer and piece.
While much of the performance succeeded in creating an immersive, historical experience, it wasn’t without its flaws. There was a subtle yet persistent issue of cultural representation that felt at odds with the institution’s progressive values. The push to present the student body and community members with a musical experience centered in Western classical seems tone deaf to the progressive pull by musicologists, amongst these Ryan Banagale, to understand and represent music through a more diverse and inclusive lens. Music was long understood as an art that must be learned in its compositions and theories, creating an access blockade to music for people without a certain socioeconomic status.
Music scholar Christopher Small redefines music as a work representative of culture. Small shifts the culturally accepted definition of music from a verb to a noun, thus deterring us from the rigid standard of elitist classical music culture. In creating such a specific world, the ensemble inadvertently reinforced certain cultural biases, which the audience seemed to absorb unconsciously.
Nevertheless, the English accents were culturally and periodically accurate for the ensemble. As former professor and linguistic scholar Hiromi Onishi explains, in a modern context, mass media illustrates the English accent to represent intelligence and sophistication. The audience adopted a similar behavior and speech style when interacting with the performances, drawing me to the conclusion that this ensemble portrayed these biases that music held for centuries. For an institution that champions diversity and inclusivity, this dissonance was jarring and worthy of deeper reflection within the music department.
Ultimately, “A Salon Concert at Hartfield” offered a rich, multi-sensory experience that transported its audience to another time while reminding them of the importance of mindful representation in artistic performances. As much as we were invited to enjoy the music, we were also urged to question the cultural narratives we bring — and those presented to us — onstage.