Reading Adorno

Thanks to Jeremy Denk's honest entry on Adorno's essays, my interest in that particular book has been piqued. Now that I've acquired this book, I've been spending most of my available time between practices, rehearsals, lessons and performances reading it. (As you can see, the available time that remains is actually the travelling time on buses and trains. How pathetic...) Trust him when Jeremy had indirectly commented that certain sentences of the book are beyond comprehension. It really isn't an easy read.

For the time spent studying Adorno's essays, I could feel all my brain cells to getting to work, making sense of the ideas which were going through Adorno while he was penning down these essays. I guess it's my craving for the most ecstatic state of epiphany upon grasping hold of his intriguing ideas and theories that actually drive me to overtax myself in all the various aspects necessary. I reckon that out of all sentences which I've come across in my life, the single sentence which I spend the longest time pondering on would be from this book. Yes, it is that addictive. His statements have this strange effect of playing on repeat mode in my mind, somehow suggesting that there's a much deeper and profound perspective to them. I often find myself searching my limited musical experiences for cases whereby what I've encountered before can support his ideas and theories on new music. New music. His common citations of works by Schoenberg, Webern, Berg, Wagner and a few other composers have pushed me to explore this personally unfamiliar ground and opened up my mind to the richness and defects in their music, and of course, about the human character as well.

I dare say that my personal fondness in the indulgence of this book has been almost as satisfying as playing music itself. Almost.

A strong recommendation for those who think or are willing to think and want to explore much deeper into the various aspects of music.