The Sounds of Silence

Listening to a lot of live music, YouTubes and streaming during the past few years has really sensitized me to the silence between movements in classical music. I rarely work with mp3s, but bought one today and was stunned to realize I couldn't tell how long the artist chose to pause, if at all, between movements.

In the recital hall, the artist decides how long to pause. That decision may be aesthetic, biological, or simply the need to wait for the pent-up coughing to stop. Yet that pause becomes part of the creative process. With digital recordings, on the other hand, the listener--you or me--decides whether to keep going or break for lunch.

I had no idea that negative space between sections could be so important in listening to a multi-movement composition. And imagine the reverse. What if a sound engineer decided to chop up Beethoven's fluidly unified String Quartet #14 Op. 131 into seven separate sections with a big fat pause between each? Maybe this already has been done. I'm glad I haven't heard it!

In a different medium, Asian water colorists for centuries have recognized the value of space and visual silence in their art. Negative space helps us look at an image in a specific, controlled way, and creates a sense of scope. It also gives the work of art a chance to breathe. Space and silence are elements of meditation necessary for not only our restless minds, but also for the contemplation, understanding, and sense of union that we attain in great art.

Musically, Beethoven is famous for incorporating rests in his music, often with fermatas, that can be downright uncomfortable. Or heavenly. Is it time to recognize the space between movements as an essential element of a musical work? Or is it too human to matter?