Watch Classical Music Come to Life in Artfully Animated Scores: Stravinsky, Debussy, Bach, Beethoven, Mozart & More

Stephen Mali­nows­ki has cul­ti­vat­ed his own patch of YouTube ground over the years with the Music Ani­ma­tion Machine, slow­ly scrolling visu­al rep­re­sen­ta­tions of clas­si­cal music. The videos, like the one above, use shape and col­or to inter­pret pitch, dura­tion, and more recent­ly dynam­ics and inter­vals in a hyp­not­ic style that ref­er­ences both Oskar Fischinger and Gui­tar Hero.

Per­son­al­ly, I’ve been a fan for years and watched his style evolve from the basics of a “piano roll” scroll to these much more com­plex ani­ma­tions, just as sma­lin (his YouTube name) has gone from work­ing with solo piano works to the den­si­ty of Beethoven’s sym­pho­ny scores or the chaos of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring.

Many music lovers who are not musi­cians but under­stand enough about com­po­si­tion will often fol­low a print­ed score when lis­ten­ing to clas­si­cal music; I would sug­gest that this is one bet­ter than the tra­di­tion­al nota­tion, as smalin’s method makes indi­vid­ual instru­ments in a quar­tet easy to fol­low; or show the inter­play between left and right hands in a Debussy piece; or lay out in visu­al terms the vari­a­tions on a theme or pat­tern (espe­cial­ly in Bach). For those who love but “don’t get” clas­si­cal music, these videos are a step towards clar­i­ty.

The Music Ani­ma­tion Machine start­ed long before the Inter­net. Mali­nows­ki (a grad­u­ate of my alma maters SBCC and UCSB!) dates the begin­ning to 1982, and the inspi­ra­tion came from a “hal­lu­ci­na­tion” he had while lis­ten­ing to Bach’s Sonatas and Par­ti­tas for Unac­com­pa­nied Vio­lin.

“As I lis­tened to the music, the notes on the page were danc­ing to the music — but at the same time, they were the music. It was so charm­ing and grace­ful — the flag of an eighth note extend­ing like a bal­let dancer’s arm; pairs of notes, mov­ing in par­al­lel thirds and sixths, like dancers step­ping hand-in-hand … I was delight­ed!”

The idea to ani­mate was sug­gest­ed by a friend and dove­tailed into the tech­nol­o­gy of the time, espe­cial­ly the birth of MIDI. Too self-crit­i­cal to be a per­former and too for­get­ful to be a com­pos­er, Mali­nows­ki turned to com­put­er pro­gram­ming and visu­al­iz­ing scores as the lis­ten­er, not the per­former, under­stands them. It’s been his life’s work. Explore his big col­lec­tion of ani­ma­tions and also his ani­ma­tion tech­niques.

Be wary, though. Watch­ing one isn’t enough–writing this arti­cle was a con­tin­u­al strug­gle between the dead­line and ani­mat­ed bliss. You just may find your­self sim­i­lar­ly and pleas­ant­ly lost.

Note: Here’s a list of Mali­nows­ki favorite and most pop­u­lar videos:

Grainger, Chil­dren’s March
Mozart, Sonata for Two Pianos, K 448, first move­ment
Bach, “Lit­tle” Fugue in G minor, Organ
Debussy, First Arabesque
Rim­sky-Kor­sakov, Flight of the Bum­ble­bee
Debussy, Pre­lude to ‘The After­noon of a Faun’
Beethoven, Sym­pho­ny 7, Alle­gret­to, mvt. 2
Stravin­sky, The Rite of Spring
Bach, Toc­ca­ta and Fugue in D minor
Sousa, Sem­per Fidelis
Debussy, Syrinx
Ligeti, 6 Bagatelles, III. Alle­gro grazioso
Bach, Bran­den­burg Con­cer­to 4, 3rd mvt.

Relat­ed Posts:

Opti­cal Poems by Oskar Fischinger, the Avant-Garde Ani­ma­tor Hat­ed by Hitler, Dissed by Dis­ney

Dis­cov­er the 1950s & 1960s Com­put­er & Cut-Up Ani­ma­tion of Pio­neer­ing Film­mak­er Stan Van­Der­Beek

The Genius of J.S. Bach’s “Crab Canon” Visu­al­ized on a Möbius Strip

Ted Mills is a free­lance writer on the arts who cur­rent­ly hosts the artist inter­view-based FunkZone Pod­cast and is the pro­duc­er of KCR­W’s Curi­ous Coast. You can also fol­low him on Twit­ter at @tedmills, read his oth­er arts writ­ing at tedmills.com and/or watch his films here.

Herbie Hancock Is Now Teaching His First Online Course on Jazz

FYI: If you sign up for a Mas­ter­Class course by click­ing on the affil­i­ate links in this post, Open Cul­ture will receive a small fee that helps sup­port our oper­a­tion.

A quick update to some­thing we first men­tioned last June. On Mas­ter­class, jazz leg­end Her­bie Han­cock is now teach­ing his first online course on jazz. In 25 video lessons, the 14-time Gram­my win­ner shares his approach to impro­vi­sa­tion, com­po­si­tion, and har­mo­ny, and gives stu­dents access to 10+ orig­i­nal piano tran­scrip­tions, includ­ing 5 exclu­sive solo per­for­mances. Plus there’s a down­load­able work­book.

You can take this class by sign­ing up for a Mas­ter­Class’ All Access Pass. The All Access Pass will give you instant access to this course and 85 oth­ers for a 12-month peri­od.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

Watch Her­bie Han­cock Rock Out on an Ear­ly Syn­the­siz­er on Sesame Street (1983)

What Miles Davis Taught Her­bie Han­cock: In Music, as in Life, There Are No Mis­takes, Just Chances to Impro­vise 

Her­bie Han­cock Presents the Pres­ti­gious Nor­ton Lec­tures at Har­vard Uni­ver­si­ty: Watch Online

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An Interactive Map of Every Record Shop in the World

Arriv­ing in a new city usu­al­ly means find­ing the near­est decent gro­cery, phar­ma­cy, cof­fee shop, book­store, laun­dry, etc. And before near­ly every musi­cal whim could be sat­is­fied with a few clicks, it also meant for many peo­ple find­ing the near­est record store. Even the local strip mall chain might hold a sur­prise or two. But the true finds appeared among the small pro­pri­etors, mer­chan­dis­ers of dusty LPs in wood­en bins and keep­ers of local music scene lore. Enter­ing a well-curat­ed music shop can feel like walk­ing into a medieval apothe­cary. What­ev­er ails you, you’re sure to find a rem­e­dy here. If it doesn’t work, there remains a cer­tain mag­ic in the trans­ac­tion. We con­tin­ue to believe in music even when it lets us down.

But have we lost faith in the record shop? I hope not. Online stream­ing and buy­ing has the regret­table effect of flat­ten­ing every­thing into the same two dimen­sions with­out the aura of phys­i­cal media and the musi­cal para­pher­na­lia we find in real life stores. Should you be among the unlucky who lack a local music store, fear not.

You can recov­er the romance by trav­el­ing to any one of the thou­sands of shops world­wide that are cat­a­logued and mapped on Vinyl­Hub, a crowd-sourced “endeav­or,” Ron Kretsch writes at Dan­ger­ous Minds, “to cre­ate an inter­ac­tive map of every brick-and-mor­tar record store on Earth, a per­fect resource for the world-trav­el­ing vinyl obses­sive.”

Brought to us by mas­ter­minds behind Discogs and their sim­i­lar spin-off online cat­a­logs for books, movies, etc., this project might get us out of our chairs—maybe even out of the country—and into new places to dig through the crates. But even if we’re not inclined to leave the house, Vinyl­Hub offers a wealth of fas­ci­nat­ing infor­ma­tion. “The sin­gle city with the largest den­si­ty of shops,” we learn, “is Tokyo,” though “had you asked me,” Kretsch writes, “I’d have prob­a­bly said Lon­don.” I’d have guessed New York, which comes in at a sur­pris­ing 7th place.

The most remote record store on Earth is a clus­ter of CD stalls above a pro­duce mar­ket in the tiny Pacif­ic Island King­dom of Ton­ga, but Vinyl Run, locat­ed on the tiny Indi­an Ocean island of Réu­nion, sure looks like a con­tender. The north­ern­most is in Alta, Nor­way; the south­ern­most is in Inver­cargill, New Zealand.

The UK is cur­rent­ly sec­ond in num­ber of shops by coun­try: 537, with .8443 shops per 100,000 inhab­i­tants. The Unit­ed States at num­ber one has almost triple that num­ber, but also over five times the pop­u­la­tion. These fig­ures are pro­vi­sion­al. Much of the world remains uncharted—at least as far as record shops are concerned—and Discogs mem­bers con­tin­ue to sub­mit new entries. Should you find a blank spot on the map that needs a lit­tle record icon, you can join for free and con­tribute to the Vinyl­Hub com­mu­ni­ty. While there’s noth­ing like a trip to a new music store, even if you’re only in it for the data, you’ll find much here to inspire.

Over at the Discogs blog, we learn sev­er­al more facts, such as the two shops that are far­thest apart (Madrid’s Citadel Records and Star Sec­ond-Hand Book-Music in Palmer­ston North, New Zealand: 19,978 km) and the loca­tion of that most remote shop (the mar­ket in Nuku’alofa in Ton­ga, address: “Upstairs of wet mar­ket”). VinylHub’s “Explor­er” map uti­lizes Google Maps fea­tures to give you unlim­it­ed access to every region in the world. Zoom in to see the num­bers by city and the indi­vid­ual loca­tions of each and every shop in the data­base. You can even find record stores list­ed in Pyongyang—or rather record sec­tions of sev­er­al hotel book­shops. I would­n’t nec­es­sar­i­ly rec­om­mend mak­ing the trip, but it’s inter­est­ing to imag­ine what odd trea­sures we might find there—or at any of the oth­er sev­er­al thou­sand shops from around the world.

via Dan­ger­ous Minds

Relat­ed Con­tent:

25,000+ 78RPM Records Now Pro­fes­sion­al­ly Dig­i­tized & Stream­ing Online: A Trea­sure Trove of Ear­ly 20th Cen­tu­ry Music

You Can Have Your Ash­es Turned Into a Playable Vinyl Record, When Your Day Comes

How Vinyl Records Are Made: A Primer from 1956

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Beautiful & Outlandish Color Illustrations Let Europeans See Exotic Fish for the First Time (1754)

Whether in the tanks into which we gaze at the aquar­i­um or the CGI-inten­sive wildlife-based gagfests at which we gaze in the the­ater, most of us in the 21st cen­tu­ry have seen more than a few fun­ny fish. Eigh­teenth-cen­tu­ry Euro­peans could­n’t have said the same. The great major­i­ty passed their entire lives with­out so much as a glance at the form of even one live exot­ic crea­ture of the deep, and most of those who have a sense of what such a sight looked like prob­a­bly got it from an illus­tra­tion. But even so, some of the illus­trat­ed fish of the day must have proven unfor­get­table, espe­cial­ly the ones in Louis Renard’s Pois­sons, Ecreviss­es et Crabes.

First pub­lished in 1719 with a sec­ond edi­tion, seen here, in 1754, Renard’s book, whose full title trans­lates to Fish­es, Cray­fish­es, and Crabs, of Diverse Col­ors and Extra­or­di­nary Form, that Are Found Around the Islands of the Moluc­cas and on the Coasts of the South­ern Lands, showed its read­ers, in full col­or for the very first time, crea­tures the likes of which they’d nev­er have had occa­sion even to imag­ine. The book’s 460 hand-col­ored cop­per engrav­ings depict, accord­ing to the Glas­gow Uni­ver­si­ty Library, “415 fish­es, 41 crus­taceans, two stick insects, a dugong and a mer­maid.”

The spec­i­mens in the first part of the book tend toward the real­is­tic, while those of the sec­ond “verge on the sur­re­al,” many of which “bear no sim­i­lar­i­ty to any liv­ing crea­tures,” some of which bear “small human faces, suns, moons and stars” on their flanks and cara­paces, most pos­sessed of col­ors “applied in a rather arbi­trary fash­ion,” though bril­liant­ly so. In the short accom­pa­ny­ing texts, “sev­er­al of the fish” — pre­sum­ably not the mer­maid — “are assessed in terms of their edi­bil­i­ty and are accom­pa­nied by brief recipes.”

Renard him­self, who lived from 1678 to 1746, seems to have had a career as col­or­ful as the fish in his book. “As well as spend­ing some sev­en­teen years as a pub­lish­er and bookdeal­er,” he also “sold med­i­cines, bro­kered Eng­lish bonds and, more intrigu­ing­ly, act­ed as a spy for the British Crown, being employed by Queen Anne, George I and George II.” Far from keep­ing that part of his life a secret, “Renard used his sta­tus as an ‘agent’ to help adver­tise his books. This par­tic­u­lar work is actu­al­ly ded­i­cat­ed to George I while the title-page describes the pub­lish­er as  ‘Louis Renard, Agent de Sa Majesté Bri­tan­nique.’ ”

You can behold more of Pois­sons, Ecreviss­es et Crabes at the Pub­lic Domain Review. “If the illus­tra­tions are breath­tak­ing to us now, with all the hours of David Atten­bor­ough doc­u­men­taries under our belts,” they write, “one can only imag­ine the impact this would have had on a Euro­pean audi­ence of the eigh­teenth cen­tu­ry, to which the exot­ic ocean life of the East would have been vir­tu­al­ly unknown.”

Though received as a respectable sci­en­tif­ic work in its day — and even, as the Glas­gow Uni­ver­si­ty Library puts it, “a prod­uct of the Enlight­en­ment” — the book now stands as an enchant­i­ng trib­ute to the com­bi­na­tion of a lit­tle knowl­edge and a lot of human imag­i­na­tion.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Aberdeen Bes­tiary, One of the Great Medieval Illu­mi­nat­ed Man­u­scripts, Now Dig­i­tized in High Res­o­lu­tion & Made Avail­able Online

1,000-Year-Old Illus­trat­ed Guide to the Med­i­c­i­nal Use of Plants Now Dig­i­tized & Put Online

Behold the Mys­te­ri­ous Voyn­ich Man­u­script: The 15th-Cen­tu­ry Text That Lin­guists & Code-Break­ers Can’t Under­stand

Won­der­ful­ly Weird & Inge­nious Medieval Books

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Two Million Wondrous Nature Illustrations Put Online by The Biodiversity Heritage Library

Are we tru­ly in the midst of a human-caused sixth mass extinc­tion, an era of “bio­log­i­cal anni­hi­la­tion”? Many sci­en­tists and pop­u­lar sci­ence writ­ers say yes, using terms like “Holocene” or “Anthro­pocene” to describe what fol­lows the Ordovi­cian, Devon­ian, Per­mi­an, Tri­as­sic, and Cre­ta­ceous peri­ods. Peter Bran­nen, author of extinc­tion his­to­ry The Ends of the Earth has found at least one sci­en­tist who thinks the con­cept is “junk.” But Bran­nen quotes some alarm­ing sta­tis­tics. Chill­ing, even. “Until very recent­ly,” he writes, “all ver­te­brate life on the plan­et was wildlife. But astound­ing­ly, today wildlife accounts for only 3 per­cent of earth’s land ani­mals; human beings, our live­stock, and our pets take up the remain­ing 97 per­cent of the bio­mass… almost half of the earth’s land has been con­vert­ed into farm­land.”

This state of affairs does not bode well for the mil­lions of remain­ing species get­ting edged out of their envi­ron­ments by agribusi­ness and cli­mate change. We learn from extinc­tions past that the plan­et rebounds after unimag­in­able cat­a­stro­phe. Life real­ly does go on, though it may take mil­lions of years to recov­er. But the cur­rent forms of life may dis­ap­pear before their time. If we want to under­stand what is at stake besides our own frag­ile fos­sil-fuel based civ­i­liza­tions, we need to con­nect to life emo­tion­al­ly as well as intel­lec­tu­al­ly. Short of globe-hop­ping phys­i­cal immer­sion in the earth’s bio­di­ver­si­ty, we could hard­ly do bet­ter than immers­ing our­selves in the tra­di­tion of nat­u­ral­ist writ­ing, art, and pho­tog­ra­phy that brings the world to us.

The Bio­di­ver­si­ty Her­itage Library (BHL), an “open access dig­i­tal library for bio­di­ver­si­ty lit­er­a­ture and archives,” has for many years been mak­ing it easy for peo­ple to con­nect to nature through nature writ­ing and illus­tra­tion. In 2012, they announced the “suc­cess sto­ry” of their Flickr streams, both con­tain­ing thou­sands of illus­tra­tions and pho­tographs uploaded by the BHL staff and read­ers from their huge col­lec­tions of books.

The first stream, cur­rent­ly at 122,281 images, has been care­ful­ly curat­ed, and includes search­able gal­leries and albums divid­ed by book title or sub­ject, such as “Exot­ic botany illus­trat­ed,” “The Birds of Aus­tralia v.1,” and “Bats!” The sec­ond stream, con­sist­ing of over 2 mil­lion images, is a mas­sive grab-bag of pho­tos, ill­lus­tra­tions from nature, adver­tise­ments, and imag­i­na­tive ren­der­ings.

Though far less use­ful for the scholar—or the very pur­pose­ful user—this sec­ond pho­to­stream offers more poten­tial for chance dis­cov­ery, through the aim­less wan­der­ing that often leads to serendip­i­tous­ly sub­lime expe­ri­ences. The for­mal BHL stream does not dis­ap­point, though it may offer few­er sur­pris­es. Both of these image archives offer expan­sive views of human­i­ty’s encounter with the nat­ur­al world, not only through sta­tis­tics and aca­d­e­m­ic jar­gon, but through the artis­tic record­ing of won­der, sci­en­tif­ic curios­i­ty, and deep appre­ci­a­tion.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch 50 Hours of Nature Sound­scapes from the BBC: Sci­en­tif­i­cal­ly Proven to Ease Stress and Pro­mote Hap­pi­ness & Awe

The British Library Puts 1,000,000 Images into the Pub­lic Domain, Mak­ing Them Free to Reuse & Remix

Down­load for Free 2.6 Mil­lion Images from Books Pub­lished Over Last 500 Years on Flickr

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Meet the 35-Year-Old British Man Who Lives Entirely in the Year 1946

Ben San­sum is some­thing of a young fogey. He’s only 35 years old, but he lives in the year 1946. Entire­ly. The pic­tures on his wall in his Cam­bridgeshire home, the sup­plies in his cup­board, the music played on his turntable, the clothes he wears–everything comes from 1946 and the post WWII era. His moti­va­tion is part­ly aes­thet­ic. He likes liv­ing in a peri­od home, he tells us. But it also goes deep­er than that. As he notes, our mod­ern world moves so quick­ly, it some­times pays to hang onto old world charms.

via Coudal

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

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Mona Lisa Selfie: A Montage of Social Media Photos Taken at the Louvre and Put on Instagram

“Over 6 mil­lion peo­ple vis­it the Mona Lisa at the Lou­vre each year. Many share their vis­it on social media.” Cre­at­ed by Daniel McK­ee, this dizzy­ing video gath­ers togeth­er hun­dreds of the pho­tos that get tak­en at the muse­um and then wind up on Insta­gram. Only a minute long, it’s a nice suc­cinct com­men­tary on our time…

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Leonar­do da Vinci’s Vision­ary Note­books Now Online: Browse 570 Dig­i­tized Pages

Leonar­do Da Vinci’s To Do List (Cir­ca 1490) Is Much Cool­er Than Yours

Take a Trip Through the His­to­ry of Mod­ern Art with the Oscar-Win­ning Ani­ma­tion Mona Lisa Descend­ing a Stair­case

Did Leonar­do da Vin­ci Paint a First Mona Lisa Before The Mona Lisa?

Orig­i­nal Por­trait of the Mona Lisa Found Beneath the Paint Lay­ers of da Vinci’s Mas­ter­piece

How a Korean Potter Found a “Beautiful Life” Through His Art: A Short, Life-Affirming Documentary

I like to think I appre­ci­ate all aspects of the cul­ture of South Korea, where I live, but dif­fer­ent attrac­tions bring dif­fer­ent for­eign­ers here. Some come for the food, some come for the music (pop, tra­di­tion­al, or some­where in between), some come for the med­ical tourism. Oth­ers, like British ceram­i­cist Roger Law, come for the pot­tery. The half-hour doc­u­men­tary above will give you an idea of what makes Kore­an pot­tery, and the Kore­an pot­ters who craft it, so dis­tinc­tive, tak­ing view­ers into the work­shop of Lee Kang-hyo, who has become famous by there bring­ing togeth­er the dis­tinct tra­di­tions of onggi glazed earth­en­ware pot­tery and buncheong white slip dec­o­ra­tion.

“As a high school stu­dent, I asked myself some fun­da­men­tal ques­tions,” says Lee in voiceover as we watch him beat the clay of what looks more and more like a large jar into shape. “What would be good to do for a liv­ing? What is my best tal­ent? How can I enjoy a life of peace? It was then I decid­ed to become an artist.” As he cre­ates, he tells us about the long his­to­ry of pot­tery in Korea and his expe­ri­ence prac­tic­ing and mas­ter­ing the tra­di­tions in which he works. Looked at ong­gi, he says, “I nev­er thought they were sim­ply big jars. I thought they were great sculp­ture.”

“My doc­u­men­tary tells the sto­ry of Lee Kang-hyo’s search for a beau­ti­ful life, through his work with clay and the love of his fam­i­ly,” says direc­tor Alex Wright, a sto­ry that “gives an insight into the spir­i­tu­al jour­ney that plays a vital part in his artis­tic prac­tice.” For Lee, this had to do as much with the heart and mind as with the hand, loos­en­ing up and light­en­ing up even as he grew more skilled, a real­iza­tion that first occurred when he became friend­ly with Japan­ese mas­ter pot­ter Koie Ryo­ji. “Kang-hyo, why don’t you try to change your think­ing?’ ” Lee remem­bers Koie ask­ing after he pre­sent­ed him with his lat­est piece. “And he lift­ed it up and crushed it. He said: ‘Form does­n’t always have to be straight. It can be beau­ti­ful.’ ”

That les­son holds in oth­er cul­tur­al spheres as well. “Ceram­ic cul­ture is very close­ly con­nect­ed to dietary life and food cul­ture,” Lee observes. “Korea has devel­oped a fer­ment­ed food cul­ture. A lot of foods are fer­ment­ed and stored, such as sauces and kim­chi,” which might stay in their ceram­ic jars for years before con­sump­tion. And so “Korea has devel­oped the skills to make big jars, more than any oth­er coun­try” with the “quick­est and most per­fect forms.” This might sound like the mak­ings of a rus­tic, util­i­tar­i­an pot­tery — and indeed cui­sine — but in fact the work of Lee and oth­er Kore­an mas­ters increas­ing­ly aligns with the grow­ing glob­al taste for things out­ward­ly sim­ple but inward­ly refined. In that par­tic­u­lar sen­si­bil­i­ty, whether expressed as pot­tery or food or music or any­thing else, Korea might well lead the world.

Lee Kang-hyo ‘Ong­gi Mas­ter will be added to our col­lec­tion of Free Doc­u­men­taries, a sub­set of our col­lec­tion, 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More.

Relat­ed con­tent:

“Prim­i­tive Pot­ter” Trav­els into the Back­coun­try for 10 Days with Only a Knife & Buck­skin and Makes Anasazi Pot­tery

The Art of the Japan­ese Teapot: Watch a Mas­ter Crafts­man at Work, from the Begin­ning Until the Star­tling End

Kintsu­gi: The Cen­turies-Old Japan­ese Craft of Repair­ing Pot­tery with Gold & Find­ing Beau­ty in Bro­ken Things

Three Pink Floyd Songs Played on the Tra­di­tion­al Kore­an Gayageum: “Com­fort­ably Numb,” “Anoth­er Brick in the Wall” & “Great Gig in the Sky”

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Research Finds That Intellectual Humility Can Make Us Better Thinkers & People; Good Thing There’s a Free Course on Intellectual Humility

We may have grown used to hear­ing about the impor­tance of crit­i­cal think­ing, and stowed away knowl­edge of log­i­cal fal­lac­i­es and cog­ni­tive bias­es in our argu­men­ta­tive toolk­it. But were we to return to the philo­soph­i­cal sources of infor­mal log­ic, we would find that we only grasped at some of the prin­ci­ples of rea­son. The oth­ers involve ques­tions of what we might call virtue or character—what for the Greeks fell into the cat­e­gories of ethos and pathos. The prin­ci­ple of char­i­ty, for exam­ple, in which we give our oppo­nents a fair hear­ing and respond to the best ver­sion of their argu­ments as we under­stand them. And the prin­ci­ple, exem­pli­fied by Plato’s Socrates, of intel­lec­tu­al humil­i­ty. Or as one punk band put it in their Socrat­ic trib­ute. “All I know is that I don’t know. All I know is that I don’t know noth­ing.”

Intel­lec­tu­al humil­i­ty is not, con­trary to most pop­u­lar appear­ances, reflex­ive­ly accord­ing equal weight to “both sides” of every argu­ment or assum­ing that everyone’s opin­ion is equal­ly valid. These are forms of men­tal lazi­ness and eth­i­cal abdi­ca­tion. It is, how­ev­er, believ­ing in our own fal­li­bil­i­ty and open­ing our­selves up to hear­ing argu­ments with­out imme­di­ate­ly form­ing a judg­ment about them or the peo­ple who make them. We do not aban­don our rea­son and val­ues, we strength­en them, argues Mark Leary, by “not being afraid of being wrong.” Leary, pro­fes­sor of psy­chol­o­gy and neu­ro­science at Duke Uni­ver­si­ty, is the lead author of a new study on intel­lec­tu­al humil­i­ty that found “essen­tial­ly no dif­fer­ence between lib­er­als and con­ser­v­a­tives or between reli­gious and non­re­li­gious peo­ple” when it comes to intel­lec­tu­al humil­i­ty.

The study chal­lenges many ideas that can pre­vent dia­logue. “There are stereo­types about con­ser­v­a­tives and reli­gious­ly con­ser­v­a­tive peo­ple being less intel­lec­tu­al­ly hum­ble about their beliefs,” says Leary. But he and his col­leagues “didn’t find a shred of evi­dence to sup­port that.” This doesn’t nec­es­sar­i­ly mean that such peo­ple have high degrees of intel­lec­tu­al humil­i­ty, only that all of us, per­haps equal­ly, pos­sess fair­ly low lev­els of the trait. I’ll be the first to admit that it is not an easy one to devel­op, espe­cial­ly when we’re on the defen­sive for some seem­ing­ly good reasons—and when we live in a cul­ture that encour­ages us to make deci­sions and take actions on the strength of an image, some min­i­mal text, and a few but­tons that lead us right to our bank accounts. (To quote Oper­a­tion Ivy again, “We get told to decide. Just like as if I’m not gonna change my mind.”)

But in the Duke study, reports Ali­son Jones at Duke Today, “those who dis­played intel­lec­tu­al humil­i­ty did a bet­ter job of eval­u­at­ing the qual­i­ty of evi­dence.” They took their time to make care­ful con­sid­er­a­tions. And they were gen­er­al­ly more char­i­ta­ble and “less like­ly to judge a writer’s char­ac­ter based on his or her views.” By con­trast, “intel­lec­tu­al­ly arro­gant” peo­ple gave writ­ers with whom they dis­agreed “low scores in moral­i­ty, hon­esty, com­pe­tence, and warmth.” As a for­mer teacher of rhetoric, I won­der whether the researchers account­ed for the qual­i­ty and per­sua­sive­ness of the writ­ing itself. Nonethe­less, this obser­va­tion under­scores the prob­lem of con­flat­ing an author’s work with his or her char­ac­ter. Moral judg­ment can inhib­it intel­lec­tu­al curios­i­ty and open-mind­ed­ness. Intel­lec­tu­al­ly arro­gant peo­ple often resort to insults and per­son­al attacks over thought­ful analy­sis.

The enor­mous num­ber of assump­tions we bring to almost every con­ver­sa­tion with peo­ple who dif­fer from us can blind us to our own faults and to oth­er people’s strengths. But intel­lec­tu­al humil­i­ty is not genet­i­cal­ly determined—it is a skill that can be learned, Leary believes. Big Think rec­om­mends a free MOOC from the Uni­ver­si­ty of Edin­burgh on intel­lec­tu­al humil­i­ty (see an intro­duc­tion to the con­cept at the top and a series of lec­tures here). “Faced with dif­fi­cult ques­tions,” explains course lec­tur­er Dr. Ian Church, “peo­ple often tend to dis­miss and mar­gin­al­ize dis­sent…. The world needs more peo­ple who are sen­si­tive to rea­sons both for and against their beliefs, and are will­ing to con­sid­er the pos­si­bil­i­ty that their polit­i­cal, reli­gious and moral beliefs might be mis­tak­en.” The course offers three dif­fer­ent lev­els of engage­ment, from casu­al to quite involved, and three sep­a­rate class sec­tions at Cours­era: The­o­ry, Prac­tice, and Sci­ence.

It’s like­ly that many of us need some seri­ous prepa­ra­tion before we’re will­ing to lis­ten to those who hold cer­tain views. And per­haps cer­tain views don’t actu­al­ly deserve a hear­ing. But in most cas­es, if we can let our guard down, set aside feel­ings of hos­til­i­ty, and become will­ing to learn some­thing even from those with whom we dis­agree, we might be able to do what so many psy­chol­o­gists con­tin­ue to rec­om­mend. As Cindy Lamothe writes at New York Mag­a­zine’s Sci­ence of Us blog, “we have to be will­ing to expose our­selves to oppos­ing per­spec­tives in the first place—which means that, as daunt­ing as it may seem, lis­ten­ing to friends and fam­i­ly with rad­i­cal­ly dif­fer­ent views can be ben­e­fi­cial to our long-term intel­lec­tu­al progress.” The hol­i­days are soon upon us. Let the healing—or at least the char­i­ta­ble tol­er­ance if you can man­age it—begin.

via Big Think

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Stephen Fry Iden­ti­fies the Cog­ni­tive Bias­es That Make Trump Tick       

32 Ani­mat­ed Videos by Wire­less Phi­los­o­phy Teach You the Essen­tials of Crit­i­cal Think­ing

Why We Need to Teach Kids Phi­los­o­phy & Safe­guard Soci­ety from Author­i­tar­i­an Con­trol

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Meet the World’s Worst Orchestra, the Portsmouth Sinfonia, Featuring Brian Eno

What is it about objec­tive­ly ter­ri­ble works of art that so cap­ti­vates? Cults form around Tom­my Wiseau’s The Room, the “Cit­i­zen Kane of bad movies,” or ama­teur girl-group The Shag­gs, “the best—or worst—band of all time.” Such utter art­less­ness can­not be faked, but it can, com­pos­er Gavin Bryars found, be delib­er­ate­ly orches­trat­ed, to quite enjoy­ably ter­ri­ble effect. In 1970, Bryars staged a three-day tal­ent show at the Portsmouth School of Art, with come­di­ans, ven­tril­o­quists, musi­cians, etc. His own entry was the Portsmouth Sin­fo­nia, now right­ly known as the “world’s worst orches­tra.” The Sin­fo­nia, writes Dan­ger­ous Minds, “wel­comed musi­cians and non-musi­cians alike, though peo­ple of tal­ent were expect­ed to play instru­ments on which they were not pro­fi­cient.” The first iter­a­tion of the group con­sist­ed of 13 stu­dents who could hard­ly play at all.

Lat­er ensem­bles fea­tured more dra­mat­ic dis­par­i­ties in tal­ent. But no mat­ter their lev­el of abil­i­ty, “all mem­bers were expect­ed to play the reper­toire to the best of their abil­i­ties. The result was a spe­cial kind of cacoph­o­ny: every famil­iar theme (Also sprach Zarathus­trathe William Tell Over­tureBeethoven’s Fifth), though played as inept­ly as pos­si­ble, was approached with respect and even care. You will instant­ly rec­og­nize every tune they attempt, and you will prob­a­bly bust a gut,” adds Dan­ger­ous Minds.

Maybe it’s the earnest­ness that gets us, the best of inten­tions pro­duc­ing the most ridicu­lous of results. Though formed as a “one-off joke,” Atlas Obscu­ra notes, the Sin­fo­nia con­tin­ued after an “out­pour­ing of enthu­si­asm,” and even attract­ed Bri­an Eno, who joined on clar­inet, an instru­ment he’d nev­er played, and pro­duced and record­ed with the group on their debut 1974 album, Portsmouth Sin­fo­nia Plays the Pop­u­lar Clas­sics.

The group’s num­bers swelled by the mid-sev­en­ties to include, Eno wrote in the album’s lin­er notes, “a mem­ber­ship of about fifty.” He lets us know in his dead­pan intro­duc­tion that the Sin­fo­nia took its work seri­ous­ly. The orches­tra “tends to gen­er­ate an extra-ordi­nary and unique musi­cal sit­u­a­tion where the inevitable errors must be con­sid­ered as a cru­cial, if inad­ver­tent, ele­ment of the music.”

It is impor­tant to stress the main char­ac­ter­is­tic of the orches­tra: that all mem­bers of the Sin­fo­nia share the desire to play the pieces as accu­rate­ly as pos­si­ble. One sup­pos­es that the pos­si­bil­i­ty of pro­fes­sion­al accu­ra­cy will for­ev­er elude us since there is a con­stant influx of new mem­bers and a con­tin­u­al desire to attempt more ambi­tious pieces from the realms of the pop­u­lar clas­sics.

This is dif­fi­cult to read with a straight face, but Bryars “was adamant,” the blog Clas­si­cal Music Reimag­ined explains, “that the musi­cians shouldn’t play for laughs – they hon­est­ly had to play to the best of their abil­i­ty, and atten­dance at rehearsal was manda­to­ry. Footage of the orches­tra in action shows an incred­i­ble lev­el of con­cen­tra­tion and focus (if not results).” A few mem­bers do seem be hav­ing fun with Han­del’s Mes­si­ah in the short clip of a live per­for­mance below, fea­tur­ing a seri­ous Eno. But most of them are gen­uine­ly giv­ing it their all.

Exper­i­men­tal the­ater, con­cep­tu­al art, or prac­ti­cal joke, it makes no dif­fer­ence. There is tru­ly some­thing “extra-ordi­nary and unique” about this “musi­cal sit­u­a­tion,” you must agree. The so-bad-it’s‑goodness of the Sin­fo­nia comes not only from their lack of tal­ent, but also from the enor­mous gap between inten­tions and results—a uni­ver­sal­ly rec­og­niz­able con­di­tion of the human com­e­dy. We cel­e­brate the excep­tions, those whose great efforts tru­ly pro­duce great­ness. But in the Sin­fo­nia, we may encounter the less-great parts of our­selves, enno­bled in their inep­ti­tude by the fool­har­di­ness of this tragi­com­ic dar­ing.

via Atlas Obscu­ra +  Dan­ger­ous Minds

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear the Exper­i­men­tal Piano Jazz Album by Come­di­an H. Jon Ben­jamin — Who Can’t Play Piano

The 15 Worst Cov­ers of Bea­t­les Songs: William Shat­ner, Bill Cos­by, Tiny Tim, Sean Con­nery & Your Excel­lent Picks

Ed Wood’s Plan 9 From Out­er Space: “The Worst Movie Ever Made,” “The Ulti­mate Cult Flick,” or Both?

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Atheist Stanford Biologist Robert Sapolsky Explains How Religious Beliefs Reduce Stress

Let’s put aside for a moment the ques­tion of whether, or which, reli­gion is “true.” If you think this ques­tion is answer­able, you are like­ly already a par­ti­san and have tak­en cer­tain claims on faith. Say we ask whether reli­gion is good for you? What say the sci­en­tists? As always, it depends. For one thing, the kind of reli­gion mat­ters. A 2013 study in the Jour­nal of Reli­gion and Health, for exam­ple, found that “belief in a puni­tive God was pos­i­tive­ly asso­ci­at­ed with four psy­chi­atric symp­toms,” includ­ing gen­er­al anx­i­ety and para­noia, while “belief in a benev­o­lent God was neg­a­tive­ly asso­ci­at­ed with four psy­chi­atric symp­toms.”

So, a cer­tain kind of reli­gion may not be par­tic­u­lar­ly good for us—psychologically and socially—but oth­er kinds of faith can have very ben­e­fi­cial men­tal health effects. Author Robert Wright, vis­it­ing pro­fes­sor of reli­gion and psy­chol­o­gy at Prince­ton, has argued in his lec­tures and his best­selling book Why Bud­dhism is True that the 2500-year-old East­ern reli­gion can lead to enlight­en­ment, of a sort. (He also argues that Bud­dhism and sci­ence most­ly agree.)

And famed Stan­ford neu­roen­docri­nol­o­gist and athe­ist Robert Sapol­sky, author of Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers, makes an inter­est­ing case in the Big Think video above that “this reli­gion busi­ness” humans have come up with—this form of “meta­m­ag­i­cal thinking”—has pro­vid­ed a dis­tinct evo­lu­tion­ary advan­tage.

Reli­gion seems to be an almost uni­ver­sal phe­nom­e­non, as Sapolsky—who is him­self an atheist—freely admits. “90 to 95% of peo­ple,” he says, “believe in some sort of omnipo­tent some­thing or oth­er, every cul­ture out there has it.” Rarely do two cul­tures agree on any of the specifics, but reli­gions in gen­er­al, he claims, “are won­der­ful mech­a­nisms for reduc­ing stress.”

It is an awful, ter­ri­fy­ing world out there where bad things hap­pen, we’re all going to die even­tu­al­ly. And believ­ing that there is some­thing, some­one, respon­si­ble for it at least gives some stress reduc­ing attrib­ut­es built around under­stand­ing causal­i­ty. If on top of that, you believe that there is not only some­thing out there respon­si­ble for all this, but that there is a larg­er pur­pose to it, that’s anoth­er lev­el of stress-reduc­ing expla­na­tion.

Fur­ther­more, says Sapol­sky, a benev­o­lent deity offers yet anoth­er lev­el of stress reduc­tion due to feel­ings of “con­trol and pre­dictabil­i­ty.” But benev­o­lence can be par­tial to spe­cif­ic in-groups. If you think you belong to one of them, you’ll feel even safer and more reas­sured. For its abil­i­ty to cre­ate social groups and explain real­i­ty in tidy ways, Reli­gion has “unde­ni­able health ben­e­fits.” This is borne out by the research—a fact Sapol­sky admits he finds “infu­ri­at­ing.” He under­stands why reli­gion exists, and can­not deny its ben­e­fits. He also can­not believe any of it.

Sapol­sky grudg­ing­ly admits in the short clip above that he is awed by the faith of peo­ple like Sis­ter Helen Pre­jean of Dead Man Walk­ing fame, despite and because of her “irra­tional, nut­ty,” and stub­born insis­tence on the impos­si­ble. He has also pre­vi­ous­ly argued that many forms of reli­gios­i­ty can be indis­tin­guish­able from men­tal ill­ness, but they are, para­dox­i­cal­ly, high­ly adap­tive in a chaot­ic, world we know very lit­tle about.

In his inter­view at the top, he pur­sues anoth­er line of thought. If 95% of the human pop­u­la­tion believes in some kind form of super­nat­ur­al agency, “a much more bio­log­i­cal­ly inter­est­ing ques­tion to me is, ‘what’s up with the 5% of athe­ists who don’t do that?’”

It’s a ques­tion he doesn’t answer, and one that may assume too much about that 95%—a sig­nif­i­cant num­ber of whom may sim­ply be rid­ing the band­wag­on or keep­ing their heads down in high­ly reli­gious envi­ron­ments rather than tru­ly believ­ing reli­gious truth claims. In any case, on bal­ance, the answer to our ques­tion of whether reli­gion is good for us, may be a qual­i­fied yes. Believ­ers in benev­o­lence can rejoice in the stress-reduc­ing prop­er­ties of their faith. It might just save their lives, if not their souls. Stress, as Sapol­sky explains in the doc­u­men­tary above, is expo­nen­tial­ly hard­er on the human organ­ism than belief in invis­i­ble all-pow­er­ful beings. Whether or not such beings exist is anoth­er ques­tion entire­ly.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Biol­o­gy That Makes Us Tick: Free Stan­ford Course by Robert Sapol­sky

Stanford’s Robert Sapol­sky Demys­ti­fies Depres­sion, Which, Like Dia­betes, Is Root­ed in Biol­o­gy

Robert Sapol­sky Explains the Bio­log­i­cal Basis of Reli­gios­i­ty, and What It Shares in Com­mon with OCD, Schiz­o­phre­nia & Epilep­sy

How Bud­dhism & Neu­ro­science Can Help You Change How Your Mind Works: A New Course by Best­selling Author Robert Wright

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness


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