Music

Until quite recently, students who did not know the German language were limited in their study of musicology. This demonstrates that, in its origins, this discipline was profoundly Eurocentric. "La musicologie étudie les formes, les fonctions, les signifiés des phénomènes musicaux dans le cadre des différentes cultures – qu’elles soient, temporellement ou géographiquement, proches ou éloignées des nôtres. Son principal domaine de recherche est la musique européenne du Moyen Âge à nos jours." (UNI-FRIBOURG). However, if we consider the semantics of the word and the universalization of the discipline since its inception, nothing indicates that knowledge of the German language is a fundamental requirement for its study, nor that its primary focus should be specifically "la musique européenne du Moyen Âge à nos jours".

Furthermore, there is a contradiction in the definition of what musicology should be. While it attempts to encompass all extra-European segments "temporellement ou géographiquement," it simultaneously delineates its field of study as "musique européenne du Moyen Âge à nos jours." Such a statement is as absurd as saying that mathematics would study only "la mathématique européenne du Moyen Âge à nos jours." This dogmatic and deterministic perspective reflects a Eurocentric pretension.

Regarding the French-speaking community, musicology was officially established as a university discipline only in 1951, in Paris. From its inception, it tended to intertwine with elements of other sciences to structure its own methodology, particularly history and philology, as it became a science only when it formulated hypotheses through these underlying disciplines.

Apart from methodology, there were no systems that provided a solid theoretical foundation, since the history of music, on which it depended, was based on fragments of music from antiquity, biographies of renowned composers, and well-documented musical movements. In essence, it is the fragments of old texts, treatises, and biographies that form the foundation of musicology. A good example is Charles Burney and his "Musical Journey through the European Enlightenment." Although criticized in his time by English academics as a vulgarization (Burney failed to obtain academic approval for its publication), this work became, by the end of the 20th century, a valuable source for understanding pre-classical music in the European courts of the 18th century.

After this first phase of musicology, specializations emerged, such as studies on unknown composers (especially from the Baroque period), musical currents, Eastern European schools and their composers (such as Jan Dismas Zelenka), as well as patrons, schools, and musical phenomena such as the Florentine Camerata of Giovanni Bardi.

New research practices are questioning the basic structure of this relatively recent discipline, which must adopt new methodologies to continue existing, much like linguistics did with semiology. Musicology is, therefore, in a phase of transformation.

What factors have driven these changes?

1. American translations of European treatises provided access to the historical works of Germanic and other theorists. Thus, knowledge of the German language ceased to be an essential requirement not only for North Americans but also for all countries proficient in English.
2. The demand for advanced theoretical studies in major music schools began requiring not only knowledge of the evolution of musical forms but also a scientific methodology, thereby aligning musicology studies with university-level research.
3. The emergence of ethnomusicology integrated new methodologies, particularly for studying musical systems that differed from European standards, necessitating adaptations in studies using new symbols, nomenclatures, and systems of thought.
4. The postulate of ethnomethodology challenged the universality of traditional theories, giving rise to a new philosophy on how musicology should be framed and, if necessary, what designation should be attributed to it. Europeans, in a derogatory manner, began distinguishing between musicology and "musicography" and "musicographers," considering the latter an imposture in contrast to European university standards.
5. The rise of interdisciplinary studies broke away from the necessity of encompassing broad knowledge from other sciences to construct theories concerning musicology. The so-called "mammoth discipline," which once included philosophy, history, sociology, and philology, began to face methodological conflicts with these fields, revealing its difficulty in sustaining itself as an independent science. Other new disciplines within the humanities encountered similar challenges.

For these reasons, the study of musicology is currently based on less restrictive premises, adhering only to academic research standards concerning structure, the formulation of statements, and scholarly writing.

With the intellectual emergence of new peoples and their socio-cultural histories, interests have shifted beyond European historical music. Just as anthropology has diversified into various specializations—such as religious anthropology, physical anthropology, medical anthropology, post-culturalist anthropology, sports anthropology, etc.—musicology finds itself at a crossroads between ethnomusicology, sociology of music, and advanced music theory. Persisting in the traditional path seems obsolete and is justified only by the political positions held by university professors.

If this academic structure is an intrinsic reality of university bureaucracies, it should at least not be a dogma, nor an absolute criterion for intellectual validation within academic and professional settings.

If a comparison can be made between the early 20th-century ethnomusicology (Bartók, Kodály, Villa-Lobos...) and the timidity of today’s researchers, we can observe a reluctance to venture into the urban jungle and its new musical forms, especially those exploring different paths from the technological dominance of DJs.

It is evident that academic rigor has taken precedence over empirical research. In other words, there is a tendency to conflate moralism with intellectual laziness, leading to the perception of urban music in their own countries as poor, naïve, and without a future—music made by young people, pop music, etc. Some consider it corrupted by commercial interests, while others believe it lacks social visibility.

This type of music remains outside the scope of study for most contemporary musicologists and ethnomusicologists, who are more inclined to work on "fossils," ancient manuscripts, or tribal music from Africa, ideally from populations that have yet to "wear jeans" or discover electricity.

The risk of being a pure “ethnist” is to find oneself, as depicted in a drawing by Gary Larson, confronted with the adaptation of peoples to the "civilized" world, to the point where they must hide in order to maintain an illusion of authenticity for Westerners.

Today, this avoidance of the "improbable and ephemeral" goes against the true scientific spirit, as if the sense of adventure had vanished from the academic scene—except for paleontologists. It seems that immersion in local culture is only considered valid when the subject of study is folkloric, as reassuring as tribal music or ancient repertoires.

The fundamental question, therefore, is to determine what truly constitutes ethnic music, how to define it, and what obstacles are deemed insurmountable in the eyes of modern ethnomusicologists.

Some hypotheses:
a) Disdain for urban music (seen as lacking a research problem)
b) Inability to frame the subject of study within a defined timeframe
c) Difficulty in establishing statistics due to the entropic process and the vast number of new creations, which would require new methodological models
d) Impossibility of detailing creative diversity within a formal framework due to the repetition of harmonic patterns and adaptation to media diffusion modes
e) Inversion of research priorities (“nothing is greater than the smallest”)

Among the various theories about parallel organum, some are quite extravagant. Here is an attempt to explain the relationship between architecture and music during that era. It is important to note that the resonances of fourths and fifths are closely linked to the architecture of Gothic churches—these "celestial caves."

For any musician with a free spirit and creative mind, the temptation to sing in fifths or fourths is exhilarating, as these intervals persist within the church vaults. They intertwine without creating saturation or leaving dissonant traces.

Sustained notes sung within these architectural spaces produce a synesthetic experience of sound and light in the human body. This aligns with the ultimate purpose of such music: the illumination of the spirit, calling the congregation to faith—much like the mantras of Hindu religious culture, which aim at transcendence.

Unlike in Hindu traditions, where individuals must produce the sounds themselves to attain inner peace, in the case of parallel organum, it is the singers who lead the congregation into a spiritual trance.

The question remains: was this phenomenon purely accidental, emerging from musical intuition and practice, gradually shaping a style that resonated with the architecture? Or was this art based on cosmogonic knowledge—now lost—passed down only through oral tradition? Perhaps these secrets remain encoded in ancient manuscripts, yet to be brought to light.

A. Innocence
This is the phase in which the composer dedicates themselves entirely to music, with no obstacles standing in their way. Their love for art—specifically, music—overcomes all difficulties. In a way, they remain invisible to criticism.

B. Persistence
The composer fights against adversity and all those who create obstacles to their art.

C. Reality
Faced with the working world, they realize that making a living from their art is not easy. Economic difficulties may arise, leading to a dilemma: the choice between persistence and abandonment.
"The misery of the artist must be considered a form of art." – Wilhelm Furtwängler

D. Analogies
The composer reflects on their production, style, popularity, and social visibility in comparison to other composers.

E. The Future
They must continue and never lose sight of the initial phase—the innocence that once brought them so much joy.

Renato De Aguiar

Discussing the history of music would, in principle, mean highlighting hundreds of works by great authors and specialists who have sometimes dedicated their entire lives to the subject. This short article approaches the topic from the ethnic perspective of the corpus pensante—the intellectual body that at times absorbs divergent cultures and at other times supplants, erases, or relegates them to the category of exotic music.

Among the probable reasons that have contributed over the centuries to establishing an unquestionable state of consciousness and legitimacy for this music—which has since been exported to other continents—one could cite the following:

1. Organology: The technological mastery of instrument making, supported by mechanical, acoustic, and physical sciences.
2. Form and Notation: The influence of Hellenic rhythms and Roman poetry in structuring musical forms. From a stylistic perspective, the Europeanization of the instrumental suite through popular and court dances (from the 17th and 18th centuries)—such as the allemande, courante, sarabande, and gigue—led to its transformation into the sonata. The sonata form itself is based on the structure of discourse (exposition, development, recapitulation), which directly correlates with rhetorical principles (Expositio, Elaboratio, Peroratio).
3. Ideas and Aesthetics: Closely linked to the visual arts, including paintings and altarpieces in churches, as well as European philosophical systems, poetry (Lieder and songs), and literature (librettos for operas and epic themes for program music).
4. Patrons, Institutions, and Multidisciplinary Discussion Groups: Organizations such as the Camerata Bardi fostered debates on artistic themes.

This provides a strong basis for discussion to further examine this phenomenon:

1. After addressing the four previous points, the fifth element to highlight is the exportation of this music, facilitated by Eurocentrism, with the support of both royal courts and the Church.
2. The absorption or dilution of other musical thought systems under the banner of the Christian cross, through choral models, masses, and religious processions (for example, the bandoneon, an instrument originally invented to imitate the organ during Protestant processions).
3. The concept of universal music as opposed to the diversity of musical theories and their symbolic significance (ethnomethodology).

Before discussing the history of music, we need to find a meaningful way to compare history with something tangible in our lives. Perhaps a garden serves as a good analogy, as it requires fundamental elements to produce fruit: soil, seeds, water, sunlight, and a gardener to nurture it.

To get an overview of the current situation, it becomes easier to understand and explain the countless roots, styles, and movements in music over the past 50 years. Ultimately, this helps us answer an important question: why has contemporary music lost its social visibility?

Continuing with the garden analogy, we make a major mistake when we replace actual musical production with a hypothetical or idealized one. In other words, we must recognize today's composers as the real protagonists of music history. We cannot rely solely on an archetype predetermined by the intellectual elite—one that promotes a purified, idealistic form of art centered around university composers. These composers often write more academic papers than actual music, and they attempt to dictate the "correct" path for music history. Instead, we must acknowledge and cultivate the fruits that already exist.

If we compare soil to land, seeds to artists, water and sunlight to investments, and the gardener to cultural policies, we gain a clearer understanding of what is necessary to establish a new vision of music history.

Can we "make history"? This is a delicate question because, for some, true history cannot be deliberately created. Yes, we can make history, but we cannot predict which kinds of music will endure over time or how long any new musical trend will last. The most important thing is to avoid an academic, selective, elitist, and bourgeois approach to determining what should be preserved.

Today, new sponsorship trends are problematic because they prioritize profitability. Returning to the garden analogy, sponsors choose seeds that grow as quickly as possible and plant large quantities of the same type to maximize sales.

At first glance, this might seem normal, and younger generations may assume it has always been this way. However, this shift only occurred after liberalism imposed a fusion of culture, sports, and entertainment—a problematic crossover. This created a domino effect, culminating in the commercialization of culture. The consequences include the gradual disappearance of independent artists and a reliance on repetition and remakes to fill the creative void left by this new cultural paradigm.

But wait! We cannot treat art and culture like clothing or cars. While art involves sensitivity, emotion, and cultural identity, consumer goods exist primarily to signal social status and comfort. These are two fundamentally different things.

Regarding musical styles and trends, they have become increasingly dependent on technology to align with consumer expectations. As a result, music has been reduced to a utility, like water or electricity. We are no longer owners of music; we are merely consumers. Today, we rent our music from the 60,000 new songs uploaded to the internet daily.

All these issues justify a new approach to understanding the composition process and its various ramifications.

Let's keep it simple.

Nowadays, there is a proliferation of film music orchestrations that resemble The Planets by Gustav Holst. This phenomenon emerged after composer John Williams wrote the music for Star Wars.

From there, the rise of software programs that facilitate such orchestrations became evident. The evolution was swift. New digital instruments are displacing traditional writing, and manuscripts are disappearing. Perhaps the same will happen with sheet music, as the quality of sampled sounds continues to improve. When paired with MIDI (Musical Instrument Digital Interface) instruments, they achieve remarkable excellence.

The ease of orchestrating with the help of digital software has led to the emergence of thousands of composers who, even without formal musical training or knowledge of the instruments they work with, can produce music with the ease of a Ravel.

Let me introduce myself: my name is Renato De Aguiar. I am a composer, conductor, and educator, but I also work as a "scientific collaborator for music" at the State and University Library of Fribourg in Switzerland, where I have lived for 36 years.

For the title of this presentation, I have chosen:

CONTEMPORARY COMPOSERS OF FRIBOURG AND THE YOUNG COMPOSERS OF THE NEOJIBA PROJECT IN SALVADOR: A CORRELATION OF IDEAS AND A “TRACK” TO OURO PRETO.

But before I begin, I would like to thank everyone present here for the warm welcome in this house of culture. I would also like to thank Professors César Buscacio, Erico Fonseca, Edésio de Lara Melo, Virgínia Buarque, and others for inviting me to participate in this round table discussion.

These seminars were subdivided into four parts: classes on instrumentation and organology, the realization of student compositions, analysis of works, and debates.

The composers of NEOJIBA were asked to write variations on the chorale Ein’ feste Burg from Bach’s Cantata BWV 80, a theme also used by Stravinsky in The Soldier’s Tale, which was performed by members of NEOJIBA. They wrote individual pieces using the same instrumentation as Stravinsky: one clarinet, one bassoon, one trumpet, one trombone, one percussionist, one violin, and one double bass. These works were presented as a prelude to the evening concert, which featured The Soldier’s Tale.

Additionally, each member of the group was assigned a specific role in maintaining the project. For example, some were responsible for coordinating the instrumentation classes, collecting and verifying essential data inscribed in the scores, drafting and correcting biographies and group texts, recording and documenting performances visually, managing the electronic dictionary without distinguishing between self-taught and academically trained composers, and organizing meetings via teleconference.

Regarding documentation, the aim was to implement a project similar to that of Fribourg. However, since most of these young composers worked primarily with software such as Finale and Sibelius, we questioned the practical reasons behind their shift away from handwritten manuscripts in favor of these programs.

It was found that, beyond the difficulty of making corrections, other factors played a role. The high cost of quality manuscript paper—often imported—and the humid climate of Salvador, which caused ink absorption and the rapid aging of written documents, made handwritten scores impractical compared to the numerous advantages offered by digital notation software. Among the most active young composers, only two still worked with pencil and paper.

As a result of this practice, the following topics were debated:

A. The first topic was epistemological in nature, addressing the following questions:

• The influence of these programs on composition and the recurring question of whether technology conditions a composer's choices.
• The use of pre-arranged orchestrations.
• Whether technology imposes its own objectives by formalizing musical language.
• The challenges of creating new notations within these programs.

In this context, it was relevant to cite Marshall McLuhan’s ironic observation: “American lawns are square because lawnmowers don’t know how to cut curves.”

B. The second debated topic was the value and longevity of handwritten manuscripts. Does a mythical belief persist that only ink manuscripts hold real documentary value? In comparison with the progressive disappearance of handwritten letters, could the same fate befall musical manuscripts?

I took the opportunity to highlight two opposing attitudes I encountered in Switzerland: one from a documentation center that accepted only handwritten scores, and another from the Paul Sacher Institute in Basel—perhaps the most significant contemporary music archive in Europe—which held Karlheinz Stockhausen’s collection in photocopies, despite knowing that the original scores were in Germany. Their reasoning was simple and solid: “Better this than nothing.”

C. Regarding the Salvador project, it became clear that while it is common for young instrumentalists to begin their careers performing in orchestral concerts or competitions, it has become rare for young composers to have their works performed. To some, the idea of children composing music might even seem absurd, as if asking, “Who do they think they are, Mozart?”

However, the Salvador project went against this notion, refusing to restrict participation to composition students and opening it to all.

The surprises and reactions it provoked became a focal point of discussion. As scientist Idriss Aberkane points out, any revolutionary process—whether social, moral, or technological—undergoes three phases: first, it is seen as ridiculous; then, as a threat; and finally, as self-evident.

Far from shaking the foundations of society, a concrete example illustrates this process: a 12-year-old violinist presented a short piano quartet. To many, this seemed ridiculous; to others, threatening, because, as the official stance dictated, he lacked the necessary qualifications to compose. Yet, after the concert, it was simply instrumental music being played. What else could it have been? It was self-evident!

In the ongoing effort to break stereotypes, two coexisting paradigms emerged that had to be addressed:

A. Musical compositions as an expression of and aspiration for a community, without any pretension of being preserved for posterity or claiming authenticity.

B. Compositions confined within the limits of their experimental theoretical foundations. Since any autonomous creative process is inherently experimental, the contemporaneity of musical language is found within the act of creation itself, regardless of stylistic approach. As Stravinsky wrote in Poetics of Music:

"It is useless to judge, discuss, or criticize the principle of speculative will, which is at the origin of all creation. In its purest form, music is free speculation, and the creators of all times bear witness to this concept."

2.3 The correlation between the Fribourg and Salvador projects, and the attempt to reconcile these two aspects—the development of music and its diversity—leads me to cite Alphons Silbermann in his Introduction to the Sociology of Music:

"The question of whether one should consider the work before the artist, the artist before the work, or the work without the artist becomes purely theoretical… If we replace the terms ‘good,’ ‘mediocre,’ and ‘bad’ with ‘enduring,’ ‘transitory,’ and ‘ephemeral,’ we gain solid reasoning for acknowledging intermediary periods and the composers who represent them.

"For these composers helped build the roads that connect the peaks, and their existence is as intrinsically necessary as the works of the great men who reside on the eternal summits."

This suggests that it has always been easier to research great composers, whose extensive bibliographies are well-documented, than to study intermediary composers, whose work remains largely unexplored. However, research and documentation on these composers are essential for structuring the chronological continuity of a country’s musical history.

2.4 Other questions raised during both the preparation of the Fribourg project and the development of the Salvador project concerned the training of composers and the contradiction between reality and official recognition. Ultimately, the field of composition presents the following fundamental question:

A. Composers who have completed higher education and continue composing.

B. Composers who have completed their training but only composed during their university studies and, due to the difficulties of the job market, chose other paths.

C. Composers who pursued an academic career, becoming theorists of composition, and who, in most cases, stopped composing—sacrificed by specialization, lack of time due to their academic duties, articles, and research, or simply due to massive self-criticism.

D. Finally, self-taught composers: those who "never" had composition lessons or completed higher education, such as Arnold Schoenberg, Bohuslav Martinů, Elgar, William Walton, Charles Ives, etc. These examples in music history created a favorable precedent for accepting composers from diverse backgrounds.

2.5 What actually happened in launching the Fribourg project

The first phase consisted of sending a letter to the most well-known composers in the city, inviting them to participate in the project while also requesting the submission of other composers' names.

The second phase established the material for the publication of an electronic dictionary, structured in alphabetical order to avoid a hierarchy of values.

This dictionary included: a photo, a biography, a list of works, a page of a score, and a brief sound fragment.

The third phase consisted of updating the dictionary every six months, integrating new composers and new works.

The fourth phase involved publishing a catalog of works by older composers as a form of tribute and to obtain manuscripts, correspondence, and other iconographic documents that the composer wished to donate.

The fifth phase was the dissemination of the catalogs to specialized sectors.

And the final phase was the inclusion of other categories in the electronic dictionary.

The outcome of this experience was that, on the one hand, the population became aware of the state's musical wealth, with 43 composers registered. On the other hand, there was a retroactive effect on several composers, making them more conscious of their creative processes.

During the preparation of the project, a questionnaire was created with a series of questions aimed at composers more engaged in classical music, such as the interval classification system adopted by Persichetti in his book Twentieth-Century Harmony, where he commented that

"Tensions between intervals depend on the musical context, and in a highly dissonant passage, a consonance could be perceived as dissonance, and vice versa."

Other questions included:

• What will 21st-century music be like?
• What is your writing technique?
• What is the audience’s attitude towards your music?
• What are the available means to perform your compositions?
• Does your music adapt well to traditional concert halls, or should special equipment be provided?
• If an audience listens to Bach and Debussy in the same concert, are they aware that Debussy is closer to us than Debussy was to Bach?
• Why is contemporary music considered exotic, extravagant, and hermetic?

However, we saw that the effect could be negative, so we left the decision to answer open to participants.

Following this phase, the next development was:

E. The selection criteria in Fribourg accepted versatility: composer/teacher, composer/instrumentalist, or even those who also pursued other professions in parallel.

Since composition is, in practice, often a solitary, free, and creative art, even if it draws upon knowledge acquired in schools or courses, this does not mean that it must submit to a pre-established rule or doctrine. As the composer and professor Ernst Widmer stated in his article Travos e Favos, quoting the composer Lutosławski:

"Theoretical and aesthetic studies should not interfere with the act of composing, as these studies paralyze the mechanisms that set creative thinking in motion."

To illustrate this common versatility in the arts, a parallel was established with writers, as in this field, many authors simultaneously pursue other professions. They are translators, journalists, teachers, salespeople, lawyers, etc.

Initially, the chosen title was Compositeurs fribourgeois d’aujourd’hui, which translates roughly to "Fribourg Composers of Our Time", to avoid controversy surrounding the term "contemporary music."

In reality, around this time (1994), the term "contemporary music" sounded sectarian and elitist, leading to a series of misunderstandings, especially with the post-serialist schools and the IRCAM (Institute for Research and Acoustic/Musical Coordination) of Pierre Boulez, which greatly intimidated those who did not follow the precepts of these schools. A text written by György Ligeti in 1991 and published by the Fondazione Internazionale de Balzan further supported those who felt orphaned by the term "contemporary music" and justified the choice of another title for the Fribourg project—one that would unite rather than separate local composers. After all, Ligeti was one of the leading figures of what was called contemporary music at the time.

Here is what Ligeti wrote:
"The avant-garde protest attitude was a political gesture of an elite. With the collapse of the socialist utopia and the technological civilization shift marked by the expansion of microelectronics, we are also witnessing the end of this artistic avant-garde. The beautiful postmodernism seems to me to be a chimera; I sought a different modernity—one that was neither a return to the past, nor a passing trend, nor even a critique."

This moment of freedom allowed us to adopt a title that avoided the term "contemporary music" and enabled the coexistence of various compositional currents.

Secondly, during the meetings that preceded the structuring of the Fribourg project, and still to confirm the choice of the title, the meaning and semantics of the term "contemporary music" were debated, raising several questions.

Did all contemporary composers write contemporary music? Did this contemporary music (in 1994) still hold the value of being an "avant-garde"?
Or, was there a new designation that could free music from this already heavily stereotyped term? The purpose of the debate was to dissociate the term from the dominance of a single compositional technique. As the German musicologist Carl Dahlhaus commented:
"Younger composers have exchanged the professional model for the scientific model... The development of musical composition appears as a process analogous to the evolution of science; works present themselves as solutions to problems left unresolved by previous works. Each solution, in turn, raises problems that must be clarified by future works, without any foreseeable end to the dialectic of creation and problem-solving."

Regarding the young composers from Salvador, another topic of debate was the issue of international composition competitions, specifically:

• Age limit restrictions
• Control over style and language (once again, the clichés of what was considered contemporary music)
• Insignificant prize money
• In some competitions, the retention of manuscripts in case of non-classification—meaning that, beyond not being selected, composers lost their originals
• High costs and complexity for registration and submission of works. For young composers from Salvador, participation was nearly impossible, as many competitions required not only three copies of a score and a recording of its piano reduction but also a €50 registration fee.

The learning that resulted from these two experiences, in countries so diametrically different, teaches us to take care of manuscripts and all material support resulting from a creation. Moreover, it highlights the importance of adopting a new, humanistic, and pragmatic approach—one that fights to support young composers in their economic and structural difficulties, ensures the preservation of all works regardless of who composed them or when they were composed, and rejects elitism, stereotypes, or socio-moral judgments. Additionally, it is essential to adapt to new processes of conditioning and dissemination of these works. Without dissemination, without transmitting the country’s musical history to future generations, music would merely become a decorative act for library shelves.

In conclusion, I would say that both the composers of Fribourg and the young composers of Salvador continue "writing music" despite the demands and obstacles of an increasingly exclusionary society, which places more and more unnecessary barriers to creation.

It is important to remember that the results of such projects are enriching, and often the effect can influence the cause. In other words, dedicating a biography to these composers, listing their works with examples of their musical languages, stimulates them, increases their production, and creates a tautochrony between major and minor composers—some concerned with details of how to classify their works, while others seek to increase their output.

In summary, we must cultivate culture, care for culture, and educate through culture. As cited by the music sociologist Alphonsos Silbermann, instead of labeling music as good, mediocre, or bad, we should distinguish between the permanent, the transitory, and the supposedly ephemeral. By freeing ourselves from personal judgment commitments, we allow for coexistence with the diversity of musical languages from different composers.

Furthermore, I believe we should resist the temptation to compare 20 years of local musical history with 200 years of great European compositions. Currently, in Europe, there is also an effort to recover the intermediate works of composers who have been forgotten by history.

Conflicts and rivalries, such as the Querelle des Bouffons between Rameau and Rousseau, between defenders of tradition and advocates of new musical horizons, or between supporters of different schools, have always existed and have always been detrimental to the arts. While wars and natural disasters sometimes cause the disappearance of works of art—be they paintings, music, or books—it is disgraceful to accept that this could happen within the cultural sphere itself.

To prevent this epistemicide—essentially, the "annihilation of any divergent knowledge"—it is necessary to embrace compositional diversity as an addition to a positive outcome. Whether it is a small quartet with piano written by a 12-year-old composer or a symphonic work by an experienced and renowned composer, both enrich a country's musical heritage.

Thank you very much.

Renato De Aguiar

Symposium presented on July 17, 2017, at the Department of Music, Federal University of Ouro Preto (UFOP), Minas Gerais, Brazil.