It’s clear to me that the Universe doesn’t work the way I would imagine it to, but that’s part of the charm. I was very surprised to learn that people with one hemisphere of the brain damaged could no longer speak, but they could sing. This is noticed in many books on the brain. It also happened to the father of a woman I know.
Now, were I building a human being, speech would be pretty fundamental, with singing and music as a special function on top of that. If you lost the higher processing, you could still talk, but you couldn’t sing. There wouldn’t be a way to sing but not talk.
But that’s clearly not how the brain functions. Clearly music is somehow basic to the functioning of that part of the brain. Our love of music may, ultimately, be related to the fact that it is inherent in the operation of that hemisphere of the brain.
There’s another aspect to our appreciation of music. The column “Deadalus” in the British journal Nature always consists of very brief columns on science or engineering speculation, usually with a very dry tongue in cheek. One suggestion it made some time ago was that we appreciated the harmony of octaves (play a chord of middle C and C one octave up and it sounds pretty) because such harmonics are the natural harmonics of bending beams, especially simply-supported beams (beams that simply rest on a support at each end without being tied down – think of xylophones or marimbas). Such beams have a sonic spectrum harmonics – middle C plus the C above that plus the C above that plus…etc. Our arboreal ancestors, Daedalus suggested, listened to the sound of groaning branches, and if they heard the natural harmony of such octaves, knew that it was sound. Broken or rotten branches gave dissonance, and were to be avoided.
Pretty far-fetched, but I think it’s onto something. I’ve always wondered where octaves came from, and why they should occur so naturally in the case of simply-supported beams.
A few other random notes on music and our appreciation:
– not everyone’s music is the same. Chinese pentatonic scales aren’t the same as our western scales. I once heard Chinese music played on a western-style violin tuned to a pentatonic scale, and both scale and music were vastly different from what I would call music, yet there was an observable pattern. (This was at the Met. Museum of Art in NYC, in their Musical Instruments room). There are plenty of other examples, but this is the one that struck me most forcibly. There may be an underlying natural love of music, but the specific form of it is heavily influenced and guided by culture.
– Music is the ultimate Abstract Art. Although some music may be consciously pettered after some natural sounds or forms, or try to “tell a story”, most music, of any kind, is as nonrepresentational and abstract as you can get. The next time you get in a discussion with someone saying that they don’t like abstract art – you know, modern painting, post-impressionist – bring up the subject of music. What does Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony sound like?