I Love My Opinion

I like it that you like stuff. You like potatoes, you like recess, you love dogs, you love getting your nails done, you love the Warriors. That’s all stuff you like and love, and it’s great that you know about yourself and what makes you happy. You’re a triumph of self-definition.

But – “I love these potatoes, they’re really good!” Now this is where we get into problems. Do you see what you did there? You turned your opinion into a fact. Because you love the potatoes, you endowed them with a quality that links back to your appreciation. “Because I love these potatoes, they are good.” My opinion must be the same as the truth, so my opinion makes it the truth. Did you see that?

It’s not your fault, and everybody does it. Certainly, the worth of potatoes isn’t something that we need to worry ourselves with at the moment, but it’s worth considering what the my opinion endows the object with positive qualities construction means, and what it implies, because in actual fact your opinion and objective fact don’t necessarily line up. (“Shakespeare is totally overrated!”) It’s nice when and if opinion and fact do, but your opinion is just your opinion. It’s not as important to other people as it is to you, and overall it’s probably not as important as you think it is.

In my teaching practice I try to move students beyond their own opinions, in order not to be limited by dislike. You might not like this Bach Minuet, but it’s what you’re going to play, so don’t make yourself miserable by pouting that you don’t like it; be curious, and you might end up surprising yourself.

Young students usually respond positively or negatively to whole pieces. “I like this.” “I don’t like that.” Adult students on the other hand are more tuned in to the finer grain of the music and raise objections about particular sound combinations that they find unappealing. Beyond merely wincing at the uncomfortable sound moment, these students sometimes need to change the world around them to fit with their aesthetic preferences, and will happily edit the music to suit their own tastes, as if Beethoven didn’t know what he was doing and needs some pointers.  This behavior is deeply problematic, and betrays a selfish misunderstanding of the symbiosis of consonance and dissonance. It might also indicate that the students perhaps misunderstand the nature of seasoning and flavor. (Note to self; don’t accept dinner invitations from them.)

Concentrated contemplation of Art offers a counter to selfishness and self-preoccupation by asking us to consider deeply something that is not ourself. Paying attention to Art is a form of prayer, a stepping beyond yourself and out of yourself, in an attempt to understand someone or something other. Cultivate an opinion, certainly, but don’t be limited by it. Just as it is unproductive to address your intercessions to yourself when praying, it is unproductive to refer to yourself when looking at art. Selfless contemplation is communing with something that points us to the Good by getting us beyond ourself.

Oh, and taking a selfie in a picture gallery is not Looking at Art.

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