Experience and meaning in music performance / edited by Martin Clayton,

Byron Dueck and Laura Leante. OUP Contents Acknowledgments vii

List of contributors ix

About the companion web site xi

1. Introduction: Experience and Meaning in Music Performance 1

Martin Clayton, Byron Dueck and Laura Leante

2. Entrainment, Ethnography and Musical Interaction 17

Martin Clayton

3. Social Co-Regulation and Communication in North Indian Duo Performances 40

Nikki Moran

4. Groove: Temporality, Awareness and the Feeling of Entrainment in Jazz

Performance 62

Mark Doff man

5. Performing the Rosary: Meanings of Time in Afro-Brazilian Congado Music 86

Glaura Lucas

6. Self-consciousness in Music Performance 108

Andy McGuiness

7. Rhythm and Role Recruitment in Manitoban Aboriginal Music 135

Byron Dueck

8. Imagery, Movement and Listeners Construction of Meaning in North Indian Classical Music 161

Laura Leante

9. Embodiment and Movement in Musical Performance 188

Martin Clayton and Laura Leante

References 209

Index 223

SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS IN MUSIC PERFORMANCE Andy McGuiness Introduction

This chapter explores the subjectivity of music performers in the course of felicitous

and creative performance. The kind of music performance described in this chapter

is creative in the very moment of performance, and by presenting a newly created

subjectivity, without either predetermining or censoring it, risks shame. I argue that

this kind of performance ( creative performance or felicitous performance for short)

depends on a particular state of self-consciousness, which this essay aims to describe.

Although I refer to a field study of alternative rock bands, which exemplify this

approach, the kind of performance concernedand the subjectivity that, I argue, is associated with itis not necessarily confined to that style. In fact, arguments by Naomi Cumming (2000) in relation to performance of Western classical music help

to delineate some of its features. Western classical music and rock music (generally)

share the fact of a set text which is performed without changes to its basic elements

of rhythm and pitch, and so allow for the mechanism of control, which I postulate

here as giving rise to felicitous performance. Th is essay combines analysis of ethnographic fieldwork with approaches from

formal aesthetics. Writings on the phenomenology of shame are used to bridge the

two. Th e tools of philosophy of mind and of developmental studies are employed

to dissect the structure of shame in order to construct a model that will account for

the fi ndings of the ethnographic study and that can be reconciled with Cummings aesthetics. 6

Self-Consciousness in Music Performance 109 One more preparatory remark is in order. For simplicity, I have restricted the

topic to the subjectivity of a single performer in relation to the audience, ignoring

the relationship between co-performers. Th is is not meant to discount the sociality

of music making, nor the importance of relationships between performers.

However, consideration of between-performer relations seems likely to introduce

the issue of joint attention and recursive awareness (I am aware of your awareness

of meand so on), which would complicate and obscure the central issue of my argument. Th e present discussion of self-consciousness of the individual

performer might serve as a starting point for an inquiry into the more complex

situation of co-performers.

Drawing on an ethnographic study of alternative rock bands, undertaken

in London and Bristol in 2007, I argue that the bands interviewed implement

rehearsal strategies that promote motor activity without cognitive involvement,

including overlearningthat is, practising songs so that their performance becomes automatic. Th e musicians interviewed rely in performance on what is

sometimes called muscular memory 1 that is, the movements required to play the correct notes at the correct time occur without awareness (in the moment of

performance, at least) of what the correct notes or timing actually are. Where a

musician has practised

a particular work through repetition and without focusing on knowing what the

notes are, they will oft en be unable to name the notes they are playingthis applies also to Western classical musicians. Th e goal of the strategies employed by the alternative

rock musicians interviewed appears to be a sense of bliss in performance.

I argue that overlearned movements are a way of abandoning predetermined action

goals in performance in order to achieve a particular kind of creativity.

What are the features of this kind of performance? Writers on music speak of performances

where the outcome is uncertain and subjective identity cannot be completely

controlledwhere, in fact, the performers subjectivity or sense of self is put at risk (Frith 1996: 214; Cumming 2000: 36ff ). Deliberate control of performance

would produce only a kind of musical play acting of a subjectivity that has been objectively grasped by the performer. By contrast, commitment to a performance

the outcome of which is uncertainuncertain in terms both of how the performance will be shaped, and of how that unpredicted shaping will be received by the

audienceprecludes deliberate, distanced control. Th e position of the subject in this kind of committed musical performance can

be related to Jean-Paul Sartres (1958) picture of shame, with its structure of prerefl ective doing followed by refl ective self-consciousness as the doer (the performer)

becomes aware that they have been observed by the Other (the audience). According

to Sartre, the structure of shame is intentional,

110 Experience and Meaning in Music Performance it is a shameful apprehension of something and this something is me . [ . . . ]

Th rough shame I have discovered an aspect of my being. [ . . . I]t is in its primary

structure shame before somebody. I have just made an awkward or vulgar gesture.

Th is gesture clings to me; I neither judge it nor blame it. I simply live it. I realize

it in the mode of for-itself. But now suddenly I raise my head. Somebody was

there and has seen me. [ . . . T]he Other is the indispensable mediator between

myself and me. I am ashamed of myself as I appear to the Other.

(Sartre 1958: 2212, italics in original) In order to explore Sartres conception of shame and how it might apply in the special case of music performance, I introduce Dorothee Legrands (2007a) analysis of fundamental (prerefl ective) consciousness, the level of consciousness at which (in

Sartres words) we simply live our actions and a gesture is realised in the mode of for-itself . Th is prerefl ective consciousness is based in nonrefl ective motor awareness and is foundational for refl ective consciousness. Psychological and psychoanalytic

models of the development of the Self 2 in early childhood support this analysis. Two

such models are briefl y discussed that recognise the existence of an integrated motor

sense of the selfa knowing-how of the body in relation to the surrounding environment prior to the emergence of a consciousness of the Self as seen by others (Stern

1985; Rochat 2003). Importantly, these diff erent levels or layers of the Self are argued

to persist into adulthoodadults are constantly in transition between the diff erent layers of the Self that arise in the sequential developmental stages of childhood.

Th e analysis of self-consciousness provides a means of mapping the structure of

shame onto the structure of performance. A special feature of performance is its

ongoing nature: rather than a completed action followed by awareness of observation

by the Other, performance (of the kind I describe) is an ongoing process of

prerefl ective doing complemented by refl ective awareness from the stance of the

Other. Performance, I argue, is paradigmatically simultaneously doing in a prerefl

ective stance and observing in refl ective stance; without, however, either mode of

consciousness interfering (at the conscious level) with the action of the other. Th e

separation between them is temporal: refl ective observation is of the actions of the

prerefl ective self in the preceding moment.

I begin with an account of the approach to rehearsal and performance taken by

the bands interviewed in my ethnographic research.

Rehearsal and Performance Processes of Alternative Rock Music

Th e material in this section is drawn from an ethnographic study of alternative rock

bands, undertaken in London and Bristol in 2007. Th e bands interviewed have

Self-Consciousness in Music Performance 111 released self-recorded albums through small record labels and play gigs at small clubs

in London and other cities in England.

Th e two bands whose members are quoted most extensively here are Cove and

biRdbATh . Recordings of the bands can be found online (biRdbATh 2006; Cove

2006). Th e lineup for biRdbATh consists of drums, bass, guitar and vocals. Cove

is a trio (drums, bass, guitar) and has no dedicated vocalist, although the guitarist

sings at times. While the term alternative is used to refer to widely disparate musical styles, these two bands share some features of style. Th e music of both bands is

riff -driven rather than utilising chord progressions. Th e bands both have drummers

who (at least to my perception) tend to lead the beatthis is in contrast to, for example, pop bands or heavy metal bands, where the rhythm guitar usually leads the

beat and controls the tempo. Vocals are sometimes present, but lyric content is not

foregrounded (although biRdbATh utilises more vocals and their lyrics are more

intelligible in performance than is the case for Cove). A sense of song structure is

also more important for biRdbATh than for Cove, but for both bands there is a tendency

for sections within the song structures to be static. Th e songs tend to remain

almost exactly the same from performance to performancethe music is not improvised and any changes tend to be incremental. Song structures typically consist of

two or three diff erent riff s, each iterated in a few seconds but repeated many times

in the song. A riff might be repeated many times before the change to a diff erent one

in the new section, or two riff s might alternate in a section (each being played several

times in succession).

Although some of the musicians of both bands were involved in other musical

projects as well, music was not the main source of income for any. Performance events

tend to take place in small clubs, where three (or more) bands will be scheduled to

play on one night. Audience numbers vary from about twenty upwards (including

members of bands not actually on stage at the time). Neither band banters a great

deal with the audience; the guitarist of Cove may address only one remark to the

audience before he and the bass player turn their backs (to face the drummer) for

the rest of the set. Although some people in the audience may socialise and chat, the

audience generally faces the stage, stands still and watches. At Cove gigs in particular,

there are oft en a small number of people standing very still, close to the stage, and

watching the musicians as if riveted to the fl oor; this is particularly striking when the

band plays a two-note riff , without change, for up to a minute.

It is clear that the emphasis of value is on the process of performance, even more

than the musical achievement brought out by that process; this is evident both in

the interviews and in the musicians observable behaviour. I make this point partly to forestall any tendency to think of the approach to rehearsal and performance that

emerges from the interviews as resulting only from a lack of formal musical training

112 Experience and Meaning in Music Performance and the kind of skills valued in music conservatoria. Th ese skills certainly have not

been developed to a high level amongst the musicians I interviewed (and it is evident

that the processes they use have been conditioned by the relative absence of

music theoretic knowledge). However, the musicians are defi nitely aware that their

creative compositional process (as opposed to their performance process) depends

in part on not knowing music theory. Th is quote is typical:

[Music theory is] with me all the time but I dont know every note, I only sometimes know what Im playing, in fact to be honest with you I think if I really learnt that and I was always really aware of it, I dont think Id write the same music when were jamming. 3 Simon, guitarist/singer, biRdbATh

Th e value of not knowing music theory carries over to performancemusic theoretic

concepts and note names are not used to remember what to play. Instead, these

musicians (in common with many rock musicians) rely on so-called muscular memory memory that is bodily rather than cognitively encoded:

I dont know I think a song that you know really well its just um (( shaking head)) 4 the same as how you remember anything. You know, kind of like, how

do you remember where your front door is? Its probably the same as that, you just know, dont you, cause youre always walking out it. Simon, guitarist/singer, biRdbATh

[I] ts about physical memory as well, if youre just playing it you know, your hand you just remember, it just becomes a sort of second nature of thats how the song is, thats where the fi ngers go, you know. . . Ben, bass guitarist, biRdbATh

. . . . its not very musical, I dont thinkits not played by ear, its not like hearing a note and instinctively knowing where the next note is, itsits more mechanical.

Tim, guitarist/singer, Th e Sailplanes

Riff s are drilled into memory through repetition:

How do you remember the actual riff ? [ . . . ] A lot of the time, thats with repetition as well, (just) playing it again and again.

Ben, bass guitarist, biRdbATh

Self-Consciousness in Music Performance 113 [W] e wrote a new song today and we played it continually for a couple of

hours. And I think, through repetition, thatll be drilled in now. Simon, guitarist/singer, biRdbATh

When a riff is to be played again, the mechanism by which it is recalled is typically

not explicitly conscious:

Errrm . . . I remember the area of the guitar . . . [ . . . ] . . . and . . . (( 3 second pause))

I dont know, yeah, I dont know actually. Simon, guitarist/singer, biRdbATh

Just as there is an antipathy to music theory, there is a reluctance to count bars to

keep track of an arrangement:

NoI dont personally, I know theres some people that do. Er . . . its just a natural reaction, I think, once youve played it a few times [ . . . ] once youve played them through a few times it just becomes embedded.

Tim, guitarist, biRdbATh

[I] f theres [ . . . ] something thats sort of twelve bars or something like that we kind of get a bit confused and even though we should be trying to simplify it

and sort it out, [ . . . ] we just leave Simon to sing his part and well remember when hes got a certain vocal line that we can hear, Th ats the time to come in. Yeah, yeah, thats it. Ben, bass guitarist, biRdbATh

Generally, the musicians limit their cognitive awareness of where they are in the

arrangement to awareness of the next changethat is, what the riff in the next section will consist of:

I try and think, just like . . . the next change (( chuckles)) [ . . . ] [I] n my mind it

all kind of links together, kind of like a little map. But if I kind of look at the

whole thing, its just like, itd be just like . . . a mess basically. Dave, guitarist, Cove

I dont really think ahead as such [ . . . .] Th at kind of makes me think of people playing chess, you know? And sort of thinking what theyre going to do next. Tim, guitarist, biRdbATh

114 Experience and Meaning in Music Performance

. . . its almost like, when youre playing, if you think about it, thats when you mess up . . . I fi nd, then you sort of get that blank, if you think too many . . . steps

ahead. . .

Dave, guitarist, Cove

However, the state of consciousness in performance is not merely an absent-minded

repetition of overlearned materialideally, there is an alertness that, however, should not interfere with the processes of control via muscular memory:

Its weird its kind of concentrating but . . . a mixture of concentrating but kind of at the same time relaxing and not thinking about what youre playing too much, and sort of jinxing yourself, if you really think about it, soI dont know, its weird, its some kind of stored (( Left hand rises as if fr etting guitar)) . . . Dave, guitarist, Cove

In summary, these musicians approach to performance systematically eschews any strategy that involves mental thought about how the music is to be played. As this

essay will discuss later, the mechanisms by which instruments are played are conscious

at a prerefl ective, physical, level, but not at a refl ective, mental, level. Th is is not simply a rejection of music theory in favour of a vernacular system of mnemonics

such as fourth fret; rather, the musicians seem to wish to abdicate all mental control. Th e fi nal quote above, with its reference to a mixture of concentrating and not thinking, hints at the presence of a dual consciousness. It is this dual consciousness that I aim to explicate via the structure of shame. First, however, the next section

discusses the relation of music performance to shame.

The Risk of Shame in Music Performance

I will argue that the approach of the musicians interviewed during fi eldwork gives

rise to an uncensored performance of subjectivitythat this is, in fact, the implicit purpose of the strategyand that the performance of uncensored subjectivity carries with it the risk of shame. I do not claim that uncensored subjectivity is the

unique province of these particular musicians, or of any genre of musicrather the contrary. In discussing the examples that follow, I want to bring to mind the kind of

music performance where the subjectivity of the performer is an essential component

of the performance. Th e artistic outcome of such performance is uncertainin at least three ways, as I shall explainand it therefore carries some risk for the performers sense of Self.

Self-Consciousness in Music Performance 115 Naomi Cummings Th e Sonic Self (2000) centres on the aesthetics of performance of works from the canon of classical violin music, but many of her insights are

generalisable to other music as well. Cumming asks,

where is the work, except in the performance? It does not have life if the performer fails to risk herself for it. Only by taking the risk of spontaneity, in playing

with nuance, can a performer give the work a liveliness that will also convey

her own interpretive character.

(Cumming 2000: 412) Th e notion of spontaneous nuance to which Cumming refers seems to suggest an

element of improvisation in the expressive details of performance, or at least the

possibility of change from performance to performance. My defi nition is somewhat

broader, encompassing both unchanging nuance and nuance that changes between

performances. Th e unifying property across such performances, in my view, is that

the nuance is not coded by the performer in such a way that it can be consciously

reproduced at will. Th us, I have retained an image from the fi rst time I heard Cove

perform (April 2006), of the guitarist repeating a slow two-note riff without change

for an extended periodmore than a minutewhile a small knot of onlookers (including myself ) stood riveted, watching and listening closely. In the notes I made

for later recall, I wrote that this experience was compelling, gripping and fascinating.

Th e fascination was not with any instrumental virtuosity, nor with melodic,

harmonic or rhythmic inventiveness (also absent at this point of the performance),

but found its source in some unspecifi ed nuance. It is the argument of this essay that

nuance must be unspecifi ed (in the sense that it is not codifi ed by the performer)

in order to achieve the simultaneous construction and projection of subjectivity in

felicitous performance.

While the shunning of mental thought during performance is (as noted above)

a characteristic of the approach to performance of the alternative rock musicians

I interviewed, it is much more common for classical musicians to be intensively

trained in expressive nuance through a process of verbalisation by the teacher. Th is

fact makes Cummings insistence on spontaneity the more remarkable. In Cummings view, projection of the performers subjectivityhis or her Self in the performance is not an optional extra but rather the one thing that will make

the performance live. Not just the distanced involvement of the performers subjectivity, but commitment to the spontaneity of performance is required. Rather

than the detached projection of a predetermined subjectivity that the performer

calls forth and presents to the audiencelike a ringmaster at the circusCumming

116 Experience and Meaning in Music Performance describes a subjectivity that is displayed in the procession of moment-to-moment

actions in the course of performance.

Th ere are three closely linked uncertainties in this kind of performance. First,

according to Cumming, the artistry of music performanceaft er all requirements of physical technique, stylistic convention and even of expressive devices have been

satisfi edcannot, fi nally, be grasped and retained as though it were a material entity (2000: 31). Aspects of successful music performance can be conceptualised and

reproduced at will, but some essential component of it remains beyond the certain

grasp of the performer. Cumming notes Jonathan Dunsbys (1995) recognition of Western classical music performers impotence in the face of this fact: Performers appear to [Dunsby] as inherently anxious, aware of the potential

for a negation of their past prowess, and constantly responsible for its maintenance,

without the surety of success. Sounds of Sartrean existentialism emerge

in this consciousness that the artistry of a performing self is an ephemeral notion, requiring continuous recreation in ongoing acts of performance, yet

never sure. [ . . . ] To perform, then, is to take a risk of losing the artistic self. (Cumming 2000: 312) Th is sense of uncertainty is not confi ned to the formal world of classical music but

can also be found among rock musicians. From interviews with JK, the bass player of a moderately successful self-described indie, alt-folk, pop band, Geeves and McIlwain concluded:

Th e inherent uncertainty in music performance resulting from its vulnerability

to temporal and contextual specifi city is, ironically, of greatest threat and value

to JK. Feelings of exclusivity, privilege, success, and accomplishment stem from

the informed yet inevitable gamble with uncertainty JK must take during performance

and the sense that it has, on this occasion, paid off . Yet uncertainty

also serves as the biggest obstacle to JKs desired experience, with performance being a fl eeting, nonreplicable creative experience.

(Geeves and McIlwain 2009: 418)

Spontaneous performance is uncertain of achievement at all, but a second uncertainty

concerns just what a performance will project. It is precisely in the spontaneously

determined details of performance that the performers subjectivity is not just displayed but formed. Exactly what course the performance will take in its fi ne

details cannot be predicted, and therefore the Self that is created and displayed in

Self-Consciousness in Music Performance 117 performance cannot be examined beforehand but is discovered in the moment it is

created in performance (Cumming 2000: 42).

A performance that forms and displays the uncensored Self is risky. As Simon

Frith notes, the ultimate embarrassment for a performer is the performance that

does not workbut whether a performance works or not can only be decided by its eff ect, whether the audience responds appropriately or not:

Th is is a normal aspect of everyday performance too: a risked intimacyan endearment, a caressis always a risked embarrassment; its the response which decides whether it was, indeed, fi tting.

(Frith 1996: 214)

It is unbearable, writes Maurice Merleau-Ponty, when we feel our actions are not taken up and understood, but observed as if they were an insects (1962: 360), precisely because we are aware of the possibility of an appropriate response:

But even then, the objectifi cation of each by the others gaze is felt as unbearable only because it takes the place of possible communication.

(Merleau-Ponty 1962: 3601) Th is is the third source of anxiety regarding committed performance. Since the performer

cannot know precisely what subjectivity will be displayed, there is the risk

that the audience will not respond appropriately. Th is particular risk of performance

is real and is felt as such by the performer. Geeves and McIlwain note both the fundamental

need for a dynamic and reciprocal connection between performer and audience and the element of uncertainty of the connection (2009: 418). I propose that the embarrassment of a performance that does not receive the

appropriate response is at least partly responsible for the anxiety that a performer

feels regarding his or her artistic Self. Th e musical performing Self is susceptible

to the same sense of risk (and potentially, discouragement) as the performance

of everyday intimacies that Frith describes. Since the performing Self cannot be

grasped objectively and reproduced at will, anxiety and discouragement can make

its achievement elusive. While the musicians I interviewed were not explicit about

their sense of subjectivity in performance (and nor were the interviews oriented in

that direction), there are indications of an absence of calculation in the reliance on

mechanical playing and the determined avoidance of cognitive activity concerning the music during performances. Musicians variously reported in the midst of

performing: thinking Very little (Luke, drummer, biRdbATh ); a tendency to just

118 Experience and Meaning in Music Performance drift off (Dave, guitarist, Cove); and doing it without thinking [ . . . ] not making any conscious decisions (Mark, drummer, Cove), Th e picture I have painted of performance, then, is of the coincidence of newly realised Self with the revealing of it

in a social setting: it is here that the possibility of a performed subjectivity arises and

with it, the risk of shame.

The Structure of Shame

Part three of Sartres (1958) Being and Nothingness is titled Being-for-Others; the fi rst chapter of it begins with a lengthy discussion of shame. As Sartre describes it,

the key to the structure of shame is an initial unrefl ective action, which is followed by

a sudden awareness of the action from the perspective of the Other. Sartres famous example in Being and Nothingness is of being caught spying through a keyhole, and it

is archetypal precisely because in that situation one is expecting to see without being

seen. Th e focus is not on oneself, but on the practical negotiation of objects in space;

one is absorbed in acting.

Th e unrefl ective action is followed by discovery. Since the individual so discovered

has been wholly engaged in their actions without refl ection on their social meaning,

they are defenceless against the Others apprehension of them as the actorthey do

not have an alternative self-view to off er:

Nevertheless I am that Ego; I do not reject it as a strange image, but it is present

to me as a self which I am without knowing it; for I discover it in shame and, in

other instances, in pride.

(Sartre 1958: 261, italics in original)

Th ere is then, the possibility of pride arising out of the structure it shares with

shame: the point is that one must fi rst make an uncensored action out of the unrefl

ective core self, and only under the gaze of an audience will it be determined

whether or not its (social) meaning results in pride orunbearablyin shame. In our inner imagination of what we arein everyday life and in music performance we assume a perfect correspondence between our impulses and the way

they are received and understood by others, but when we realise those impulses in

the real world this may not be so:

In our experience (or imagination) of our own bodies, that is to say, there is

always a gap between what is meant (the body directed from the inside) and

what is read (the body interpreted from the outside); and this gap is a continual

Self-Consciousness in Music Performance 119 source of anxiety, an anxiety not so much that the body itself but its meaning

is out of our control.

(Frith 1996: 206)

What Frith says about bodies applies equally to music performance, and Cumming

also recognises that

I am unable directly to express some inner state through music, apart from the manipulation of its micro-structural shaping [ . . . ] Signs can take on a life

of their own, becoming displaced from the meaning intended for them.

(Cumming 2000: 37)

What is key here is the separation between my inner state and the I who seeks to express it. Th e I that chooses a meaning to express may regret a miscommunication but this evasion is not available to the meanings of the whole selfthe self which is not merely expressed, but actually formed in action. As cultural theorist Steven

Connor asserts, it is the essence of shame that the separation of actor from action is

precluded:

Th e meaning of shame is that suddenly I am to have no innerness any more,

that I am all in all the me that is exposed to anothers gaze. (Connor 2001: 218)

Guilt, by contrast, can be acknowledged: I did something bad. Th e acknowledgment

of guilt places a saving distance in the self between what it is and what it has done (Connor 2001: 218); but the subject of shame is always on the side of his shame, there being no other side for him to take (Connor 2001: 219). There is something paradoxical about the nature of shame, which the contrast

with guilt brings to light. One is caught in oneself, ones whole self is caught, and at the same time one sees ones whole self this seems impossible. A closed-circuit television system, no matter where the camera is pointed, will always be unable

to show some part of itself (the camera lens, for instance) on the monitor surely the self is like this? How can shame be so structured as to involve the

whole self, and yet allow a detached I to exist as observer? According to Sartre, I am ashamed of myself as I appear to the Other (1958: 222). The Other who we find observing us can only provide the model; to experience shame, we must

somehow take on the same stance as the Other. How can this occur while preserving

the inescapable pervasiveness of the whole being that is so essential to

the nature of shame?

120 Experience and Meaning in Music Performance

I want to propose that the separation between the self observed and the (internal)

observing self is temporal. Shame arises in the moment of transition between prerefl

ective consciousness and refl ective consciousness, where the refl ective consciousness

is modelled on the gaze of the impassive Other. A sequence is required. First we make

some action prerefl ectivelyan action that, since refl ective consciousness is absent, is for the moment meaningless from the refl ective stance: . . . I neither judge it nor blame it. I simply live it (Sartre 1958: 222). Th is is followed by the sudden apprehension of how we appear to the Other. Th e separation between the whole Self and the observing

self does not arise within the subject but is simply the subject in two diff erent

stances, prerefl ective and refl ective, temporally separated. Th e refl ective stance looks

backwards in time to the whole Self; the whole Self (including the part in refl ective

mode) is now caught in shame. In the experience of shame, the transition to refl ective

consciousness traps the individual in the action just made in the prerefl ective mode:

Because of the outwardly small occasion that has precipitated shame, the

intense emotion seems inappropriate, incongruous, disproportionate to the

incident that has aroused it. Hence a double shame is involved: we are ashamed

because of the original episode and ashamed because we feel so deeply about

anything so slight that a sensible person would not pay any attention to it.

(Lynd 1958; as quoted in Connor 2001: 21920) Finally in this section, I want to say something about the positive potential in the

structure of shame. To say that the same structure can lead either to shame or pride

does not convey either the pervasiveness or the sense of possibility involved. Shame

gives you to yourself, in an agonising entirety you might never have had before (Connor 2001: 218). In achieving shame, the Self escapes the confi nes of its own

idealised conception of itself, the unexamined whole being is brought onto the

stage and allowed to mean. Th e Iwhich normally controls how the Self is presented to the worldis relegated to a passive role of observation, in imitation of the Other: I . . . must take myself to be the me that is all that others can make of me (Connor 2001: 218). With the loss of control, the I also loses its position of censor or fi lter of the Self. Rather than the Self being diminished, it is given to the whole

being of the person to achieve subjectivity:

In shame, the I spreads and swells grandiosely to meet with its infi nite belittling

as the me , which is perhaps why Blake thought shame was the secret name

for pride.

(Connor 2001: 218)

Self-Consciousness in Music Performance 121 The Prereflective Self and Observational Consciousness

I have so far used the terms prerefl ective and refl ective with regard to the self, without

detailed explanation. Th is section deals with the self in terms of self-consciousness ,

correlating phenomenological and philosophical viewpoints with developmental

perspectives. What I aim to show is that prerefl ective awareness of the body as subject

is a necessary substrate of refl ective consciousness. Th e importance of the body

in music performance is obvious: it is the body that performs the actions that produce

the sounds of music. Identifying the diff erent kinds of bodily awareness that

constitute prerefl ective self-consciousness will not only justify mapping the structure

of shame onto music performance, but also help tease out some of the special

characteristics of the kind of performance under discussion. Specifi cally, clarifying

the components of prerefl ective consciousnesssensory perception and motor awarenessenables the separation of aspects of music performance into categories of prerefl ective and refl ective consciousness.

Refl ective consciousness is sometimes referred to as observational consciousness, and the terms are henceforth used interchangeably. Dorothee Legrand clarifi es the

diff erence between observational and prerefl ective consciousness with the example

of ones left hand touching ones right hand: Experience of the touched hand corresponds to an observational consciousness:

the touched hand is taken as an intentional object of consciousness.

Experience of the touching hand is diff erent. It corresponds to what I call here

pre-refl ective bodily consciousness. At this level, the body is not an object of

experience, it is the subject of experience and it is experienced as such.

(Legrand 2007a: 499)

Th e basic diff erence, then, is between a subjective experience of the bodythe body in the position of subjectand the experience of the body as an intentional object (object-directedness).

What does it mean to take something as an object? Drawing on the phenomenology

of Edmund Husserl, Dan Zahavi notes that objecthood is constituted for us

when we experience something as a unity or identity that transcends our diff ering

experiences of it (Zahavi 2006: 7).

As Zahavi argues, the continuity of identity of the object through the diff erent

experiences that the subject has of it requires that subject and object are not the

same thing. If I observe myself now as happy, now as sad and so on, continuity and

unity are not found in the diff erent emotions I observe but in the existence of the

subject that observes them. Th e self observed in introspection must be my own

122 Experience and Meaning in Music Performance self, since it is available to my introspection; but, Zahavi argues, I cannot identify

the introspected self as myself unless I know it is the object of my introspection

(2006: 6). Th erefore:

My pre-refl ective access to my own mental life in fi rst-personal experience is

immediate, non-observational and non-objectifying. It is non-objectifying in

the sense that I do not occupy the position or perspective of a spectator or

in(tro)spector on it.

(Zahavi 2006: 6)

Legrand argues that the prerefl ective dimension of consciousness is paradigmatically (although perhaps not necessarily) anchored to the subjects body (Legrand 2007b: 577). Th e prerefl ective self cannot be knownat any one moment in time though self-refl ection or introspection. Th e foundational prerefl ective experience of

the self must therefore depend on what Legrand calls self-relative information which is (at least in large part) the experience by a single self of the ways that motor

movement (eff erence, or output, from the organism) and sensory perception (aff erence,

or input) interact:

Th e present proposal is thus that a foundational bodily experience is

pre-refl ective and rooted in sensori-motor integration, rather than primarily

on aff erence or primarily on eff erence.

(Legrand 2007a: 51314, italics in original) Sensori-motor integration between motor output and sensory input via the ear is,

of course, fundamental to musical performance, and most people will readily agree

that there is some level of motor skill in the playing of music which escapes control

by the refl ective selfjust as riding a bicycle requires something other than a conscious following of rules (no matter how precisely formulated). Playing music and

riding a bicycle both depend on some degree of autonomy at the prerefl ective level.

Th e emphasis that the interviewed musicians placed on drilling in materialso that playing it was mechanical, second nature, with hand and fi ngers knowing the parts without the need for cognitive involvementmarks a route to greater autonomy of the prerefl ective self. Th is particular route is perhaps not the only one available, but it

is of a piece with these musicians style of music, their preference and their training. Legrands view of the prerefl ective self as rooted in sensori-motor integration concurs with the developmental perspective. Developmental psychoanalyst Daniel

Stern identifi es what he calls the sense of a core self which coheres in infants over the period between two and six months of age:

Self-Consciousness in Music Performance 123 Th is sense of a core self is thus an experiential sense of events. It is normally

taken completely for granted and operates outside of awareness. A crucial term

here is sense of, as distinct from concepts of or knowledge of or awareness of a self or other. Th e emphasis is on the palpable experiential realities of substance, action, sensation, aff ect, and time. Sense of self is not a cognitive

construct. It is an experiential integration.

(Stern 1985: 71)

As in Legrands account of the prerefl ective self, the core self integrates sensory input and motor output in a unifi ed body. As with the characterisation of the prerefl ective

self as nonobservational and nonobjectifi ed, the sense of the core self is not a cognitive

constructnot something which it is necessary to think about but the subjective integration of experiences. Sterns core self corresponds closely to what Philippe Rochat identifi es as Level 2 self-awareness in a fi ve-stage model of the development of consciousness:

By 4 months, normally developing infants become touch all or touche a tout as the French say. Th ey express systematic eye-hand coordination. [ . . . ] In addition, they calibrate their decision to reach in relation to their postural

degrees of freedom, whether they are more or less able to move forward toward

the object without losing balance and falling onto the ground.

(Rochat 2003: 724)

Here there is sensori-motor integration (of which eye-hand coordination is an example)

together with an awareness of posture and balance, as in Legrands account. In the developmental story the emergence of the refl ective self at about 18 months

of agethe fi rst appearance of an integrated Selfsucceeds the initial development of the prerefl ective or core self. Th is is the age at which infants fi rst become aware

that the image in the mirror is themselves. A further development occurs at about

age three. At this fourth stage of development, the sense of self is maintained even

without the immediate experience of the mirror. In Zahavis (2006) terms, the self is objectifi ed; it transcends and perdures through its diff erent appearances. A permanent self is expressed: an entity that is represented as invariant over time and appearance

changes (Rochat 2003: 722). Th e fi nal level in Rochats model is full-blown observational consciousness. Individuals become aware not only of what they are but how they are in the mind

of others, how they present to the public eye. Importantly for the model of performance

I propose, the public eye is internalised and projected in the mind of others:

124 Experience and Meaning in Music Performance Th e public outlook on the self is simulated for further evaluation of how one is

perceived and valued by others. Th e result of this evaluation, more oft en than

not is either a devaluation or a delusion, linked to so-called selfconscious emotions or attitudes such as pride or shame.

(Rochat 2003: 722)

Th e internalisation of others evaluation of the Selfawareness of how the audience is likely to respondis the other essential component of self-consciousness in music performance. Like the involvement of the prerefl ective self, the involvement

of the observational self in this way seems unproblematic. It is the precise relationship

or interaction between the two which is key to the model of performance

developed here.

Interestingly, the fi rst appearance of the (still-developing) observational self,

between two to three years of age, appears to result in spontaneous feelings of

shame. Children at this age oft en begin to express embarrassment, especially when

confronted with a mirroras if the image made them suddenly aware of how they present to the world. Th ey behave not unlike criminals hiding their face [from] the cameras (Rochat 2003: 718). Th us, there appears to be a sound developmental basis, in addition to the philosophical one, for the structure of shame as described above.

Furthermore, Rochat proposes that the diff erent levels of self-awareness that he

identifi es as developing sequentially through infancy are not stages that are abandoned

as each succeeds the last, but rather layers of the self which persist through

adulthood. Each layer or level of consciousness may be more or less activated at any

moment (and the simultaneous activation of, and relation between, the bottom layer

of sensori-motor integration and the refl ective self is fundamental to my account of

creative performance).

Legrand sees the prerefl ective self as underpinning observational forms of consciousness.

Rather than being one possible form of consciousness among others, it is

a foundational state, in the sense that it conditions the very possibility to recognise oneself as such at the observational refl ective level (Legrand 2007a: 498). Unity and Duality in Performance

I have argued that the structure of shame is temporal and that it occurs in a moment

of transition from prerefl ective action to refl ective awareness of that action from the

stance of the Other. In this section I want to link the structure of shame to accounts

of dance and music performance, as a preliminary to teasing out what is actually

occurring in performance.

Self-Consciousness in Music Performance 125 Legrand (2007a) contrasts a dancer learning a new choreography with an

expert dancer who knows the choreography or is skilfully improvising. Th e

dancer learning new steps will probably need to consciously control the position

and movements of the body, which implies an observational stance to it an I that directs the body in the movements it makes. But for the one whose dance is skilful, observational consciousness is not only not necessary (according

to Legrand) but might interfere with their performance: the expert dancer embodies the dance. Without observational consciousness, the dancer enjoys a prerefl ective experience of the body, which Legrand calls (following Gallagher)

performative awareness (Legrand 2007a: 501). Th is is very close to the model of creative performance elaborated in this essay. In both, the prerefl ective bodily

self acts without interference from the observational or refl ective self. Th e crucial

diff erence is that the observational self is an essential component of my model,

although still without interfering with the actions of the prerefl ective self. Th is

is the trick of performance, the elusive poise that some people simply have (and others dont) and that for many performers is there to a greater or lesser degree during any performance.

Without the refl ective component of consciousness, there will be no performance

but simply an absent-minded doing. On the other hand, the absence of prerefl ective

doing manifests in the performer as an inability to act fl uently and responsively.

A balance between the two modes of consciousness, indeed, the simultaneous activation

of both modes, appears to be a feature of at least some approaches to performance

in music and dance. Diff erent disciplines exhibit diff erent approaches to

the independent activation of the prerefl ective self, together with the simultaneous

activation of the observational self. In butoh dance, for instance, Toshiharu Kasai

argues that not using mirrors during training aims at the nonobjectifi cation of the

body, a means by which control can cease to be a volitional directing of the body, and

be returned to proprioceptive sensation, the internal physical sense. Nevertheless, there are reciprocal relationships of the objectifying self and the objectifi ed self (Kasai, 2000: 358).

Similarly, both kinds of consciousness were reported as present in performance

and rehearsal by professional dancers within western European traditions, interviewed

by Susan Ravn:

[T] he ballet dancers focus on the visual appearance of the body, but the latter

is always regarded as forming the other side of what they all describe as a

sensing from insideand which, according to both these dancers and their instructors, is the most important sense of movement for becoming a good

dancer. [ . . . ]

126 Experience and Meaning in Music Performance Th e [ . . . ] dancers in diff erent ways focus on proprioception but they also

describe a constant fl ow of internal (e.g. proprioceptive) and external (e.g. visual) information. As one of the dancers puts it: I have almost the rhythm of like perceiving outsideperceiving internalperceiving outsideperceiving internal, so there is constant fl ow or fl ux . . . . (Legrand and Ravn 2009: 400, emphases removed)

Th ese quotes are typical of the duality of consciousness that many performers

describe. Th e notion that the music performer must internalise the ear of the audience

is a commonplace. Th e emphasis which in Western music pedagogy is placed

on being able to hear what you are playing as it sounds to the audience (rather than

what you imagine it sounds like) is an indication of the diffi culty of the separation

between action and observation (audition).

Naomi Cumming draws on Richard Schechners (1990) description of theatrical performance as a model for music performance. Schechner argues that for a passionate

performance to be successful requires both the passionate immersion of the actor

in the role and the maintenance of a monitoring level of consciousness:

Th e monitoring capacity described by Schechner is like that developed in many disciplined practices of performancenot a form of self-assessment but a dispassionate observational mode allowing control even when passion is being expressed.

(Cumming 2000: 35)

Similarly, Simon Frith argues that pop singers are

involved in a process of double enactment [ . . . ] the performers skill is to objectify an expressive gesture at the very moment of its expression[.]

(Frith 1996: 212, italics in original)

Th e objectifi cation of the expressive gesture might not always be smoothly and comfortably

carried out. Here is Greil Marcuss description of Janis Joplins stunning version of Ball and Chain that would mark her as an overnight blues sensation (Doyle 2009) at the Monterey Pop Festival in 1967: 5

One minute into this performance and shes not wearing her heart on her sleeve: all of her internal organs are draped over her body like a hideous new

skin. [ . . . ] Its no fun: theres an instant in the last chorus of the performance when Joplins voice goes . . . somewhere else, and its simply not credible that the

Self-Consciousness in Music Performance 127 music then ends with an ordinary fl ourish people can cheer for. How did she

get back?

(Marcus 1993, cited in Frith 1996: 203; italics in original)

Cumming, however, translates the objective, monitoring level of awareness simply

as that involved in the control of each aspect of the musical performance, thus losing

the aspect of the detached and uninvolved observer. Th e omission of the impassive,

disinterested observer from the picture betrays an ambivalence that can be found in

the pages of Th e Sonic Self (2000). On the one hand, Cumming wants to preserve

the idea that the performer is engaged in expressing an inner statewhich seems to

imply a separation between the performers subjectivity and its expression. In line with the notion of an inner state which it is the performers job to express, Cumming argues that what is needed

is a specifi c awareness of how music is a pattern of signs, where inner states fi nd their character through the molding of audibly material form.

(Cumming 2000: 41)

Awareness of how music is a pattern of signs is necessary, according to Cumming,

because fr om the point of view of the audience the performer does not have a musical self apart from its sounding form (2000: 41). On the other hand, she argues that (rather than apprehending and then expressing

an inner state) performers subjectivities are actually constituted in their acts; that performers discover themselves in their actions; that they are per-forming themselves through those acts (Cumming 2000: 42). Th is is consistent with my

argument here: I hold that the musical self of the performer (at least, in the kind

of performance with which this essay is concerned) is created (rather than merely

expressed) in the performance, not just for the audience but in reality. Th e audience

will read the whole performance, not just what the performer wants it to mean.

Th ere is always some part of myself that I cannot seeit will include, at least, the part that does the seeing. Th e musician who seeks to present a predetermined meaning

(separate from his or her whole, unexamined Self ) to the audience will inescapably

present meanings that are extra to those objectively apprehended. Th e totality

of meaning of a performance always exceeds what the performer can apprehend

objectively. Th ese are the performances where the performers subjectivity is not at riskbecause it is not created in the very process of performance. Th e performance that risks the Self, by contrast, makes no separation between

the actions of performance and the Self that is formed in them. For this to occur,

the monitoring level of awareness cannot (contrary to Cummings view) be involved

128 Experience and Meaning in Music Performance in the control of the performance, but must function as a detached, uninvolved

observer. Active thought is involvedbut the thinking is done via motor processes. In (felicitous, creative) performance,

doing and thinking are so aligned that thinking proceeds to deploy what the

doing is to be, and doing provides the thinking with a manifest presence.

What is thought out is precisely what is done, the thought-out dance and

danced-out thought being one and the same . . . dances are events brought forth

by performing.

(Beiswanger 1973; quoted in Frith 1996: 208)

Compare this statement regarding the process of experimentation in rehearsal:

. . . literally um . . . . not know what the hell Im going to do the second I do it. Simon, singer/guitarist, biRdbATh

Experimentation or improvisation (changing what is actually played) is at best a

minor feature of performance for the bands interviewed. Nevertheless, the interviewed

musicians approach can be characterised by a minimising of cognitive involvement in the moment of performance, of not thinking about what youre playing too much. Th e observational self can still be assumed to be active, internalising the audience response to the performance by the prerefl ective self. However,

the absence of refl ective involvement in the detail of the sound indicates a level of

independence or autonomy for the prerefl ective level of consciousness.

Performance Creativity

So far, I have explicated the structure of shame in terms of the prerefl ective and

refl ective modes of self-consciousness; and I have established that the simultaneous

activity of bodily doing and refl ective monitoring is recognised among performers

from several performance traditions, including Western theatre, dance and classical

music, Japanese butoh dance and alternative rock musicians. In this fi nal section,

I want to say more about what the duality of consciousness provides in performance

and how it maps onto the structure of shame. I want also to make an argument

about how the two modes of consciousness are balanced and interact in creative

performance.

I have argued that the structure of shame is temporal, that it occurs in a moment

of transition from prerefl ective action to refl ective awareness of that action from the

Self-Consciousness in Music Performance 129 stance of the Other. Creative performance, I argue, preserves the fundamental structure

of shame while also exhibiting an important diff erence in its dynamics as I have

so far described them. Th e creative performance mode establishes a continuous balance

between two simultaneous modes of self, the refl ective and the prerefl ective.

Th e diff erence from the ordinary experience of shame is that, in performance, the

moment of transition between prerefl ective doing and observational awareness of

the act is extendedor rather, suspended on the fl ow of the music. In creative performance, each moment brings a new action, a new event in the fl ow of performed

music, and that new action becomes the object of refl ective consciousness in its turn.

By contrast, in the ordinary experience of shame, the transition to refl ective

consciousness traps the individual in consciousness of the action just made in the

prerefl ective mode. In sport, the colloquial term choking refers to a breakdown of prerefl ective motor action caused by refl ective consciousness obstructing the

temporal fl ow:

Interestingly, if one rises to the next levels of explicit self-awareness [i.e., those

above sensori-motor integration] while engaged in skilled actions such as playing

tennis or golf, this transition is associated with dramatic changes in performance,

typically a deterioration. Tennis and golf players will tell you that

if they step into explicit self-consciousness, erring into explicitly thinking and

refl ecting on what they are doing, their game tends to collapse.

(Rochat 2003: 729)

In music performance, the moment of transition must be dynamicrather than being caught and immobilised by shame, the performer must continuously re-expose

themselves to the risk of shame via new prerefl ective doing. Th e performative state

is the ongoing maintenance of both prerefl ective doing and refl ective observation.

In felicitous performances, musicians sometimes report a feeling as if the music

were playing itself, or as if the music were coming through the performer, rather than from them. Th e following quote conveys something of the experience, together with the sense of value associated with it. Geeves and McIlwain (2009) report this

statement from an interview with JK: If youre not nervous and [the] crowd is already into it . . . and if its a song that you know backwards . . . you just go into a little bit of a zone . . . . In that

blissful moment its the same feeling you have when you really enjoy anything I think . . . . Your body knows what to do, and you just go into this trance [ . . . ]

Its just bliss. (JK, quoted in Geeves and McIlwain 2009: 417)

130 Experience and Meaning in Music Performance Similar to JKs ideal of bliss in performance is the notion of higher enlightenment in performance in this quote from my interview with the bass guitarist of biRdbATh :

[I] ts a Zen, its a Zen thing I think. [ . . . Y]ou know youre almost on another level youre almostyoure not conscious of what youre doing, you get to that stage where youre kind of almost like a higher enlightenment kind of thing. [ . . . Y] oure not quite sure what youre doing and youre pushed beyond another level. Ben, bass guitarist, biRdbATh

What is most interesting about these two quotes is the dissociation between the

skilful body and the thinking self, a dissociation experienced as a state of bliss or higher enlightenment. Th e statement that your body knows what to do can be taken in this context to indicate that the observational self is not controlling the

performance, while the phrase youre not quite sure what youre doing indicates a separation between refl ective consciousness and prerefl ective bodily doing. Th e

blissful sense of higher enlightenment represents, at least, a special state associated

with performance. Th is sense of bliss is an ideal stateachievable, although for most performers not with certainty.

In order to map these accounts of felicitous performance onto the structure although not the experienceof shame, it is necessary to make explicit the distinction between agency and ownership of the body. A great deal has been written on

the topic: what is important here is to establish the possibility of a sense of ownership

of the body without a sense of agency. Th is is important because I want to argue

that the approach to performance of the alternative rock musicians interviewed,

involves a loss of agency.

Gallagher defi nes the sense of agency as Th e sense that I am the one who is causing or generating an action [ . . . ], while the sense of ownership is Th e sense that I am the one who is undergoing an experience for example, the sense that my body is moving regardless of whether the movement is voluntary or involuntary (2000: 15).

From these defi nitions, it appears that a loss of the sense of agency may yet leave the

individual with their sense of body ownership intact.

In normal experiences of willed or goal-directed action, the sense of agency and

the sense of ownership coincideownership of body and action are indistinguishable (Gallagher 2000: 16). It is perfectly possible, however, to experience involuntary

movements that are recognised as movements of ones own body but without the sense of causing or controlling the movement:

Th e agent of the movement is the person who pushed me from behind,

for example, or the physician who is manipulating my arm in a medical

Self-Consciousness in Music Performance 131 examination. Th us, my claim of ownership (my self-ascription that I am the

one who is undergoing an experience) can be consistent with my lack of a sense

of agency.

(Gallagher 2000: 16)

With this kind of sense of ownership 6 of the body in movement there is still a sense

of self, of mine-ness. As Gallagher puts it:

[A] lthough the body schema does not involve a consciousness of the body as

a direct intentional object, body schematic processes may generate an ongoing

pre-refl ective experience of the body as it performs and moves in ways that are

intentional as well as sometimes automatic[.]

(Gallagher 2005: 239)

Automatic is just how the experience of performing overlearned actions from muscular memory might be described. A familiar example of a loss of agency at the prerefl ective level is of someone intending to drive somewhere (to a shop, say) but,

from habit, automatically taking the turns to their home street. In the same way, for

the alternative rock musicians interviewed, remembering a riff is like remembering

where your own front door is: you just know, dont you, cause youre always walking out it (Simon, guitarist/singer, biRdbATh ). Statements such as Your body knows what to do, and you just go into this trance (Geeves and McIlwain 2009: 417) and youre not conscious of what youre doing (Ben, bass guitarist, biRdbATh ) also seem to describe a loss of agency.

To describe movements as automatic, rather than intentional, indicates that the

movements are not goal-directedthat is, that the musical result of the movement

is not represented in imagination at the time of its execution. Th is is in line with

Cummings view that the performers subjectivity is constituted in their acts, rather than pre-established and merely expressed in performance: in felicitous performance,

the prerefl ective self does not preconceive the eff ect of the actions it makes.

Th e musical choices which display subjectivity are made directly in terms of motor

actions, with the eff ect of those motor actionsthe performed music, exhibiting nuances of timing, loudness and timbrebeing available simultaneously to the audience and the performers refl ective self. Th us the refl ective self does not make musical choices, but simply observes (listens).

Th e prerefl ective self continues its motor actions without interference from the

refl ective self. Th e separate functions of these two layers of consciousness are independent.

Th at the two layers of self-consciousness do co-exist in the present moment

is axiomaticas argued above, the prerefl ective self is foundational in the sense that

132 Experience and Meaning in Music Performance it conditions the very possibility to recognise oneself as such at the observational

refl ective level (Legrand 2007a: 498). Similarly, refl ective consciousness is the prerequisite for being-for-others, which would appear to be essential to any notion of

performance. Th e repetitive drilling to achieve overlearning can be seen as a strategy

for removing refl ective consciousness from any role in the mechanics of playing,

including making moment-to-moment choices in how to play individual musical

gestures. What defi nes creative performance (as described here) is the continuous attention of the refl ective self to the actions of the prerefl ective self in the preceding

moment, but without attempting to control present or future actions.

It is an interesting question, to what extent diff erent performance traditions

may prove to correlate with the idealised account of performance that I have

given in this essay. It seems likely that, even in traditions where something like

what I have described is usual, there will be diff erences both between individual

performers and between more or less felicitous performances by any individual.

Nevertheless, there does appear to be, at the very least, activation of both refl ective

and observational consciousness in the performance traditions of diff erent

the artistic disciplines and diff erent cultures mentioned (Western theatre and

dance, Japanese butoh, Western classical and rock music). Within Kasais writings on butoh, in particular, there appears, further, a tension between the two stances

of consciousness, which correlates with my model. Indeed, the very awareness

by performers (such as the dancers surveyed by Legrand and Ravn) of the need

for attention to both modes of consciousness might be taken to indicate a relationship

between the two in performance that is diff erent from that required for

nonperformative activity.

In addition to being idealised, the model is also simplifi ed. For theatre, at least,

Schechner makes the sound argument that an actor must preserve an awareness of

the consequences of their actions, in order that Othello in a murderous rage does

not actually cause the death of the actor playing Desdemona (Schechner 1990: 37;

as quoted in Cumming 2000: 35). Similarly, in pop music, Simon Frith writes

of the necessary separation of musician-as-performer from artist-as-character

(1996: 212). Th e need for a modicum of control by the monitoring part of the

actor, which Schechner notes and which is not a part of my idealised model, is

perhaps also necessary in cases where the performer play-acts an imagined reality,

so that, for instance, Janis Joplin must monitor her impassioned extemporisations

in the performance of Ball and Chain so that they fi t the predetermined structure

of the song.

In teasing out the roles of diff erent layers of self-consciousness, the relationship

between them, and the mechanism by which the relationship can be maintained

in performance, I am aware that important questions have been raised and left

Self-Consciousness in Music Performance 133 unanswered. In particular, if prerefl ective consciousness acts independently from

observational consciousness, then how does observational consciousnessinternalising the public outlook on the self in order to evaluate others perceive and value

the Selfaff ect the course of the performance? According to the argument in this chapter, prerefl ective consciousness operates at the conscious level without infl uence

from observational consciousnesswhich suggests the activity of some nonconscious process. However, an investigation of this question is beyond the scope

of this chapter.

Conclusion

Th is chapter has outlined a mode of felicitous performance that allows the simultaneous

formation and projection of an uncensored subjectivity of the performer, via

the performance of nuance that escapes capture by any system of conscious codifi cation.

While the focus has been on alternative rock bands interviewed during fi eldwork

in 2006, I have adduced arguments drawn from the literature that suggest that

a similar mechanism of performance can be found in Western classical music and in

some forms of dance.

Drawing on the literature on shame (beginning with Sartre) I have drawn a parallel

between the structure of self-consciousness in felicitous performance and that

in shame. Th e essence of this structure is that the prerefl ective self acts without

interference from the observational or refl ective self, which subsequently provides

a simulation of others evaluation of the action made from the prerefl ective self. In the ordinary experience of shame, awareness in the refl ective or observational mode,

of the action made in the prerefl ective mode, leads to a paralyzing sense of shame. In

felicitous performance, a continuous state of prerefl ective doing and refl ective (but

non-interfering) observing is maintained. In both performance and in shame, there

exists a sense that the individual is exposing their whole Self to the perception of

others, without censorship.

I have argued that the particular mechanism by which the alternative rock musicians

I interviewed achieve this kind of performance is through the avoidance of

cognitive activity during music rehearsal and performance, together with a reliance

on so-called muscular memory and overlearning of the music. Th e ultimate goal of this approach is a blissful state in which performance is experienced as felicitous

in a special kind of way. Th e characteristics of this kind of performance include a

loss of the sense of agency, together with the feeling that the body proceeds with

the performance in a particularly successful way, and without interference from the

nonbodily self.

134 Experience and Meaning in Music Performance Notes

1 . Despite the term muscular memory, the encoding is more probably in motor areas of the brain than in the actual muscles involved.

2 . Where Self is capitalised, it refers to an integrated subject, situated in relation to other people. Th e uncapitalised self , I have used to refer to individual aspects or layers of self-consciousness. 3 . Unless otherwise credited, quotes from interviews are from fi eldwork undertaken by the

present author in 2007.

4 . Italicised text in double parentheses is used to annotate nonverbal activity, such as gestures

and movements. Text in parentheses in the interview transcripts indicates speech that is either

unclear or spoken particular quietly.

5 . Several videos of this performance can be found on the Internet.

6 . Th e sense of ownership appears to rely (at least in part) on proprioception, the internal

feedback to the brain regarding limb position and movement (Legrand 2007a: 494)although it seems probable that, especially for whole-body movement, feedback from areas responsible for

balance, such as the vestibular, would be involved. Both are aspects of the body schema, that is, the set of mechanisms that enable us to maintain our posture in the presence of gravity and to readjust

posture in order to carry out motor actions (Paillard, 1991: 167). As such, the body schema underpins

prereflective consciousness, but is not identical with it, as Legrand (2005: 413) warns. Rather,

the body schema structures and is the precondition for bodily awareness (Carman, 1999: 219).