Can Music Be Perfect?
By John J. South
We have all heard music described as “perfect” at one point or another- perhaps we have felt that way while listening to or performing a stellar piece of music ourselves (I certainly have). “Sheer perfection!” “Absolutely perfect!” These kinds of exultations can be found almost anywhere that great music is being discussed, from reviews of recordings to comments on YouTube videos. But it opens a deeper set of questions. Can music actually be perfect? What do we even mean by perfect? Perfect as in “no flaws or mistakes,” or something else?
Before we dive into this question too deeply, I want to lay out exactly what we’re discussing here. I am not talking about a perfect performance, in which the performer(s) makes no mistakes (i.e. no incorrectly played notes). That is another can of worms entirely. Rather, I am talking about creating a perfect composition, a musical work that is itself flawless. Is this possible? And has it ever been accomplished before?
Let’s start by trying to nail down what we mean by “perfect.” The first definition that likely comes to your mind is that something is perfect if it is without flaw, unblemished, without mistakes. In the world of Western music, by this definition, a perfect piece of music would be one that perfectly adheres to the conventional rules of music theory, such as harmony, counterpoint, structure & form, orchestration, etc. That is, under scrutiny, it would yield absolutely no flaws that either an eagle-eyed freshman theory student or an experienced professional theorist would uncover upon examination. No bad chord structure, no problems with form or texture, faultless harmony and counterpoint, each instrument in its proper place, the melody has a perfect shape and contour. Is music like this possible?
Technically, yes. Take Shostakovich’s Fugue in A Major for example- it is purportedly an example of perfect harmony and counterpoint. But is this really what we’re after? Earlier, I mentioned how people will often praise music as “sheer perfection” in reaction to how it moves them. And therein lies the flaw in using this definition of perfection: we as humans react to music through the effect it produces, not its construction. Of course, this does not mean we can’t study and appreciate a composer’s craftsmanship, or that there is no beauty in perfect structure. But evaluating music simply on its craftsmanship disservices both the composer and audience. Music is inextricably linked to human emotions, and composers (unless specifically trying to do so) are rightly more concerned about creating something that can connect with and enrich humanity rather than creating academically perfect art. Music theory, instead of being a set of rules and guidelines, is rather a set of tools that composers use to achieve their goals.
And where the effect of music is concerned, it should be noted that technical perfection does not guarantee that a piece of music will sound good. For a more simplistic example, our aforementioned theory student likely regularly turns in exercises that pass with nary a bad mark- all the progressions are fine, the voice leading and counterpoint are flawless, the melody peaks and dips in all the right places, etc. But has this student really created something uplifting and moving? Very likely not. In his or her pursuit of a perfect grade, our theory student has created perhaps technically perfect music, but not good music, and likely not even art. It will sound bland and uninspired when played back. Even great composers who create technically flawless works often do so at the expense of the emotional impact of their music. Listen to the Shostakovich fugue linked above. It’s pretty, for sure, but is it as impactful, as nuanced, as a piano work by Chopin or Liszt?
So far, we have established that it is possible for music to be technically perfect, but that the effect of said music needs to be taken into account. It follows, then, that the perfect piece of music is one that is not only technically perfect, but also sounds good. Right?
Not quite. I believe that this is also too limiting. The craftsmanship of a piece of music is definitely important, as is its outward effect. But this is where we run into problems if we take this definition and run with it. Music is highly subjective, and a well-crafted, outwardly beautiful piece of music may bring one person to tears while someone else in the same room sits stone-faced, unaffected. One cannot deny the skill of Debussy and the beauty of his music, for example, but for some people, Impressionism just isn’t their flavor of ice cream.
Furthermore, there is another wrench in the works: many composers created music that is definitely not technically flawless, but is every bit as capable of passionately moving listeners as a perfectly-crafted work. Take Tchaikovsky, for example. He was known to struggle with form, even having trouble molding his music to the sonata form that was standard for symphonic repertoire in his day. His themes often struggle to develop, his transitions are sometimes shaky, and sometimes (as in his Sixth Symphony) he abandoned long-accepted forms altogether in pursuit of what worked best for him. Yet, Tchaikovsky is undoubtedly one of the most influential and well-loved composers in music history, because his music is so powerful and moving. He did not need his music to be technically perfect; it was far from it, in fact. He had an unsurpassed gift for melody, was a master of orchestral color, and used the tools he had to wear his heart on his sleeve without always going by the book. In other words, he had everything he needed.
With that in mind, I believe we are ready to outline a working definition of “perfect” music. We have established that technical perfection is not required, although a composer should definitely show an ability to properly use the tools at his or her disposal without carelessly breaking rules. We have also established that the outward effect of music is very important, although we should be wary of the subjective nature of music. So, given all of this, how do we define a piece of music as perfect?
I believe that “perfect” music is music that cannot be improved upon in its current state in any significant way. In other words, there is nothing you can add to or take away from the work that would improve it, either technically or outwardly. It simply cannot get any better than it already is.
What do I mean by this, exactly? Let me give you an example of a work that I believe exemplifies this definition: the first movement of Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 3. I personally adore Johann Sebastian Bach; he is one of my favorite composers and constantly amazes me. He is not everyone’s cup of tea, however. But can anyone deny the beauty of his work, and especially the Brandenburg Concerto I linked? Here is what I believe makes it perfect: technically, it is beyond reproach. I am no theorist, but I defy anyone to fault the harmony, counterpoint, and use of instruments. Not a note is out of place. Outwardly, it is mesmerizing, and while I recognize that others may not like it as much as I do, what could possibly be added to it to make it better? It is what it is, and simply cannot improve from its current form. Almost the entirety of Bach’s oeuvre, in fact, is a clinic in perfection, both technically and outwardly, and consequently, he is the cornerstone of the study of Western music theory.
Bach is a high bar, though, and I do not want to create the impression that music has to be completely technically faultless to fall under this definition of perfect. As I stated earlier, technical perfection is not required; it does not mean that there are zero total flaws or possible minute tweaks that our presumptuous theory student or his experienced instructor couldn’t detect when scouring the score. Rather, it means that the piece is so well-constructed and capable of such great effect that no change, however great or minute, could improve it.
“Alright then, John, show me some examples of this perfection!” you may be thinking. A pretty broad swath of what we call the “classical canon” would fall under our definition, but there are some composers and works that I believe exemplify it. Mozart was composing symphonies with no mistakes as a teenager, of course, but by the time he died he was already composing with a level of perfection that few composers have matched. Beethoven is another obvious example- do you want to try and improve his Symphony No. 5? Brahms was a master of every facet of composition. His symphonies are among the best-loved symphonic works of all time, and they show a remarkable grasp of melody, form, texture, everything. Maurice Ravel demonstrated an astonishing level of technical mastery and powerful effect. Especially in terms of orchestration, he is arguably the best that ever was. Works such as La Valse are borderline miraculous- it is of undeniable complexity and richness, yet he could not have written it one iota better than he did.
What about works which are less than perfect? Most would find it bordering on sacrilege to suggest that the music of [insert famous classical composer] could be improved upon. But I think that even some of the giants of the Western classical canon have works which, while monumental, are still a bit less than perfect. Tchaikovsky, as I mentioned earlier, sometimes struggled to bring the structure of his symphonies together, especially his early ones. They display his gift for melody and orchestration, making them undeniably pleasant to listen to, but the problems with form, structure, and development mean that they can’t exactly be called perfect. Even Beethoven was less-than-perfect at times. Unlike Tchaikovsky, he was a master of form and structure, but occasionally bungled his orchestration, which Leonard Bernstein even described as sometimes being “downright bad” in The Joy of Music. As perfect as the great composers usually were, there are still some moments when they- gasp- could have done better!
There is one more example of a perfect work I want to show you before I close out, and it may surprise you. I was listening to it on earbuds at my evening job not long ago when it struck me that this piece might just meet the criteria. I am referring to John Philip Sousa’s march The Stars and Stripes Forever. Normally, I might not have considered it. But in this case, I had some experience to draw on when the thought struck me. As a trumpet player, I probably played it dozens of times, and nearly every time, someone tried to add something to it or change it in some way. Silence one group of instruments that isn’t normally silenced for one repeat, or have one play when it’s normally silent. Play the second strain loud both times. Add some cute trumpet arpeggios to the first trio section. Add a choir to the final trio section. (okay, I never played that particular variation, but it’s been done.) Not one of them made the piece better. But what about the piece itself? It has plenty of outward effect. It’s fun, rousing, and never fails to get an audience pumped. The great pianist Vladimir Horowitz was even fond of it, and made an absurdly difficult piano transcription of it. Technically, it’s beyond reproach. It’s the archetypal march, in both form and instrumentation. Perhaps our bumptious theory whiz can pick out a criticism here or there. But what could possibly be changed to make it a better piece? Nothing. It can’t be made better, despite all the attempts to do so. Therefore, I truly believe that The Star and Stripes Forever is, essentially, a perfect piece of music!
Of course, these are just my mindless musings. One need not worry about whether a piece of music is “perfect” in order to enjoy it. Art is, after all, a reflection of our imperfections. And it is precisely those imperfections that make art beautiful.
John J. South
Thumbnail: The Sun is the most perfect naturally-occurring sphere known to humanity. (NASA- STEREO spacecraft observes solar prominence on 29 September 2008)
