I want to preface this third entry about art criticism by making a clear point of what my goal with these posts is. I want to focus on how criticism is often used poorly, and offer a different take on how we can critically analyse music (or any kind of art, or really just anything in general). Art criticism doesn't require a degree or special training. Anyone can speak his or her mind on how they perceive creative works. But I think there are good and bad ways (or perhaps useful and irrelevant ways) of talking about it, and I see and hear far too much of the latter. There are so many different ways we can talk about art, so why should we limit ourselves to such narrow views?
"Art and love are the same thing: it's the process of seeing yourself in things that are not you."
Chuck Klosterman, Killing Yourself to Live
This says as much about creating as it does about analysing. And so perhaps the reason we see poorly constructed criticisms and irrelevant commentary is because those providing it don't know who they are. If you don't know what you look like, you can't see your reflection. The more you know about yourself, the more you understand your likes and dislikes, the more you can embrace contradictions co-existing, the more self-aware you are, the better you will be able to offer analysis and commentary with depth and understanding.
I can understand how people can lose themselves in someone else's art. We do this all the time with varying degrees of attachment. Most people will have at least a song connected to some important moments in their lives (a song for falling in love, a song for a memorable summer, music for a rainy day, etc.). When we hear this music, it can feel as much a part of our lives as the actual experience it now represents. On deeper levels there are also those who are wholly dedicated to a band or musician, sewing the music directly into their lives. Music becomes a very personal thing, and sometimes we stop thinking we're a part of it and we start appropriating it. This becomes a problem for analysis when we stop hearing music as what it is, and can only see it through the filter we've imposed.
This is how we end up with people thinking they can influence artists with their personal agenda. In 2005, Nightwish fired vocalist Tarja Turunen, who also served as the frontwoman, was an original member and helped define the big sound that Holopainen aimed for. And people are still talking about it as if it's relevant. For some reason, eight years later, you can still find posts on YouTube, facebook and elsewhere where so-called fans have nothing else to say but "so sad Tarja is gone" or "this band sucks without Tarja" or even "will you do a reunion tour with her?" These people are missing the point entirely. She was fired for a reason (there was an open letter and it was very clear why she was fired and why they didn't want to work with her again). So what makes people think that by telling the band they miss the old singer that everything will be fixed? I can only imagine that those making these statements are either not artists themselves, or have never had to work with someone they don't get along with. Think about it this way: if you broke up with your significant other because you didn't get along with him or her, would you try to start the relationship again if all your friends said they missed him or her? Working with people in a creative situation is an odd cross between a working relationship and an intimate relationship.
And just as people come in go in our lives, so does music. Sometimes it seems hard to detach ourselves from period music--that is, music that represents or reflects a period in our lives that is maybe no longer relevant or identifiable. But as I've already talked about, it's hard to accept change, especially that we may have changed. We hear music from our youth and we feel young again, even though it may have been years since we last listened to it. It's a wonderful feeling to travel through time with music. But it is also ok to look at it, unbiased, and see times have changed. What's worth more is remembering where you came from and understanding how your tastes have changed and developed, than trying to cling to old memories, defending your former self.
My first real exposure to heavy metal was through Italian power metal band Rhapsody (now Rhapsody of Fire). It was a sound I'd never experienced before combining heavy guitar riffs, operatic vocals, orchestral backdrops, neo-classical licks, and a grand fantasy story. At the time it was the perfect amalgamation of my interests: it was like reading a Dragonlance book, while listening to a classical concerto with all the coolness of a rock and roll band. Once I'd set foot in that world I was only degrees away from Nightwish, Sonata Arctica and other European metal bands that would come to occupy my music collection. But as I listened to more and more metal I came to refine my taste, finding the common elements that linked the different bands I listened to and figuring out what parts of it actually appealed to me. Over the years I listened to Rhapsody less and less as I discovered I wasn't as interested in fantasy as I thought I was; I preferred the orchestral work done with Nightwish; I moved away from the bombast of power metal into the grungier aesthetic of gothic metal; I started preferring the speed and riff elements of thrash and death metal. Looking back I can see how it all got to where I am today; the progression was slow but now very obvious. At the time I almost felt bad when I realised I wasn't listening to as much Rhapsody, or when I started connecting more with Nightwish as my favourite band because I was still trying to hold on to this element that brought me into the world. I couldn't let go of my past. But I don't blame Rhapsody for any of this. I never fell into the trap of thinking the band had changed instead of me. They continued doing what they loved and what they felt was right for the band. When it stopped lining up with what I wanted I simply stepped away.
I admire most the artists who are honest with themselves. Now if we can only be honest. What of ourselves do we expect to see in their art? What do we expect of them? Are we being critical of their art or of ourselves? For years, American gamers have been extremely critical of the Final Fantasy video game series, particularly since the series' founder left and the original company merged with its competitor to form Square Enix (this happened 10 years ago, but they're still complaining). The Final Fantasy series has always been dedicated to progress and change--many games have pioneered elements that are now considered RPG standards. You can't do this by repeating yourself. I see in the complainants people unwilling to give up their pasts. They still remember Saturday mornings in front of a CRT TV with a flat grey controller in hands; top-down side-scrolling fantasy games with overworlds and chip-tune music. These aesthetics are now anachronistic, but they see the advancements as a departure, not as a progression. And who are these gamers that "stick with" a company they so dislike for 10 years? If you strictly want the 16-bit aesthetic, there are dozens of modern and classic games available on your phone, your computer, your home console and handheld. If you want a game that plays like a Western RPG, then don't go looking in Japan. It's ok that you once liked these games but no longer find them enjoyable. Art cannot please everyone, and it's truly a waste of your time to look in the wrong place for something you want. Don't go to a hamburger joint expecting them to make you a shepherd's pie.
If you are honest with yourself, you will find yourself in art, and you will find the art that best reflects you. And be prepared for change. The world moves ever onward.
