II. FOOD FOR THOUGHT

In considering the issue of whether or not visuals enhance or detract from one's musical experience, I am struck by how dissimilar painting and sculpture are from music, and it's not for the obvious reason. Yes, our perception of the visual arts depends on our eyes while our ears transmit the signals of music to the brain, but music differs even more fundamentally in that it exists in the fourth dimension.

When we gaze upon a celebrated masterpiece of fine art, how long can it occupy our attention? For some reason, I have always delighted in Frans Hals portrait of The Laughing Cavalier. I like the cavalier's expression, I admire the gaudy costume of the period, and I think the portrait is well executed. But as great as that painting is, how long can I continue to stare at it before I have absorbed every detail? Once I have given it my most dedicated perusal, I can return to admiring his beery expression and give his clothing another glance, but after noticing everything about the painting, a grand total of three minutes has elapsed—about the minimum amount of time we'd expect a piece of music to take.

I would generally set a limit of three minutes for picture gazing; any longer and the viewer is shamming—trying to pretend that she has been transported into some realm of bliss by a picture. I might make some allowance for an especially large canvas like Guernica (although why anyone would care to stare at that for longer is beyond me), but then, I would also expect something by, say, Mark Rothko to rate a mere 45 seconds worth of one's attention. We see an orange square and a yellow square; our gaze might take a few seconds to glance around the border, but then we'd notice that the paint is not perfectly even and a tad runny in spots, so our enjoyment of the design actually might decrease. Or, perhaps it's two blue squares on a green background— there's not much there to occupy our minds. I give any example of abstract expressionism 45 seconds, tops, and anyone who stares at it longer is shamming.

This is not to disparage the admirable talent of messieurs Rothko, Picasso or Hals, and I'd be pleased to hang their work in my basement any day, but I merely comment that pictures only occupy two dimensions and sculpture three. I would consider music to be the most interesting of the arts because it exists in the fourth dimension, the very dimension we have no sense organ to detect. (Yes, the brain can note the passage of time, but it's hardly accurate; if it were, we'd always be on time and never need watches.) The fact that our brain is aware of time but relies on references to external objects to detect its passage is what makes art which exists in four dimensions more stimulating than quiescent art such as painting or sculpture.

A visual art which does occupy the fourth dimension is architecture, which is like sculpture that we move through over a period of time. Hearing a performance in a beautiful concert hall certainly adds to the overall experience. A ballet is visual art that occurs over a period of time, but ballet is only an adjunct to music and not an art in itself. Whoever heard of a ballet being performed without music? Even modern dance requires music of sorts.

It seems to me that the art that comes closest to music, and the art that would combine best with music, is the art of victualry. Fine dining is almost unknown in the United States, and I have never actually lived in a civilized area of the world, but it seems reasonable to me that someone should stage a mixed media event where fine food was served while music was being performed. This would not be anything like the strolling musicians or lounge pianists commonly found in establishments, as they merely provide an ambiance. What I propose is that people would be served a dish that would compliment the music to be performed, just as a wine must also compliment the course. The audience would not begin eating until the music started, and there would be no dinner table conversation. (I always considered talking during a meal to be a barbaric distraction—as bad as talking during a concert.)

Let us say that the music to be performed is Mozart's "Jupiter" Symphony. The audience would be served a portion—perhaps a fillet of fish—that would take about ten minutes to eat, so that the course would last the length of the movement. The dishes would then be cleared away, and the second course (perhaps cauliflower) brought in to be eaten while the second movement was performed. This would continue and ice cream and cake would accompany the finale.

It would be the responsibility of the chef to select the dish that best matched the spirit of the music, just as a choreographer designs a dance that is appropriate for a certain score. I would suggest sauerbraten for Brahms, chicken kiev for Tchaikowski, waffles for Haydn, tart cherries for Chopin and mints for Debussy. I think it would be interesting if an enterprising young composer wrote a suite and specified what cuisine was to be eaten during each movement.

Instead of trying to force a combination between music and a disparate art, such a suite would combine music with its closest relation. Both fine music and fine dining are arts which have been neglected in the United States; they both are more concerned with senses other than vision; most important, they both take a certain amount of time—the fourth dimension. There are even genres of music named after food: the Viennese style <SCHLAGOBERS> ("Cool Whip") was also a ballet by Richard Strauss; there's salsa music from Latin America; and who can forget the popular Taco Bell Canon?

I don't think that a suite of music to be dined to is such a far-fetched idea, but how many movements and how many courses would it last? Preparing for such a concert would be a gastronomic challenge and might require preparatory fasting. And if such a concert proved to overwhelm the gastric capacity of the audience, the ensemble could perform an encore of the music of Elliott Carter while complimentary bicarbonate of soda was served.