**Chambering Music**

#### **J. Murphy McCaleb**

#### **1. Introduction**

In 2008, Leon Botstein published an article in *The Musical Quarterly* entitled "The State of the Business: Chamber Music America after Thirty Years". In exploring the magazine's anniversary issue, he focused on the range of advertising woven throughout, covering artists, venues, concert series, universities, and festivals. Initially noting the "air of superiority and command [that] suffuses many ads" (Botstein 2008, p. 2), Botstein was sceptical of the stability of this musical ecosystem. For all of the special events planned, all of the excellent music being made, and the plethora of up-and-coming ensembles and composers being featured, he noted that "a sense of desperation lurks beneath the surface of this anniversary issue" (ibid., p. 3). Thirteen years later, this analysis still feels apt; Botstein could have been easily describing issues of *Chamber Music* from 2019, 2020, or 2021. These issues contain not only a significant number of advertisements, but also a number of feature articles that elaborate on the particular unique selling points of an ensemble, artist, composer, or venue. There is a lingering sense that this economy is made up of far more producers than consumers, and that chamber music—both the repertoire and the act of playing it—is fighting to maintain traction within wider society. Although the qualifying features of the phenomenon that Botstein refers to as "chamber music" are not directly articulated, several parameters become apparent. The range of ensembles referred to is broad, including everything from "string quartets to trios, brass and wind ensembles, and from percussion ensembles to odd duos and jazz groups" (ibid., p. 2). In contrast, the social context for these ensembles is perceived to be narrow, where "making a living as a performing musician" is intrinsically tied to "audiences and financial support" (ibid., p. 3). Thus, the chamber music Botstein is concerned with is rooted in professional performance to an audience, a presumption which bears unravelling in order to make sense of the practice within 21st century society.

Through exploring the recent issues of this magazine, two features become apparent. First, the chamber music economy, at least in the United States, where the journal *Chamber Music* is centred, is heavily reliant on governmental grants and philanthropy. Performers are not only being advertised within its pages, but they are also targeted by advertising for competitions promising monetary reward and public acclaim. Additionally, there are standing items in the magazine concerning grants and other funding, which have been awarded to aspiring artists. Most notably, Chamber Music America provided USD 1.2 million to chamber

musicians and organisations in 2020 through its six grant programmes (Chamber Music America 2020). Reports such as the UK Live Music Census demonstrate similar reliance on non-commercial funding for classical musicians in the United Kingdom, where "49% of all respondents . . . who identify as classical musicians have applied for funding or support programmes for the purpose of supporting live music performance in the past [compared with] 10% of respondents to the musician survey who identify as rock musicians" (Webster et al. 2018, p. 77). Given that chamber music is a subclassification within classical music, it is likely to be subject to similar financial models.

Second, chamber music as a genre is less popular than others as a form of live entertainment. In 2015–2016, 7.6% of British adults attended a classical music event at least once, compared to 30.7% who attended another genre (not including opera or jazz) (Arts Council England 2016). Participation rates of American adults were similar, with 8.8% of adults attending at least one classical music concert in 2012 (ICPSR 2013, p. 12). Although these surveys do not provide granular distinction between the sizes of ensembles, chamber music, as a smaller unit of classical music, would, therefore, only achieve a proportion of that audience. Chamber music features more infrequently in the provision of music venues across the UK, of which less than 20% regularly host chamber music ensembles in comparison with 70% hosting original bands and 42% hosting cover bands (Webster et al. 2018, p. 53). Although a number of organisations support amateur chamber music ensembles globally, little data exist to gain an accurate understanding of how many people play chamber music in private settings. Furthermore, 10.1% of British adults played a musical instrument for pleasure in 2015–2016, although the Taking Part Survey that collected this data did not specify the instruments or genres that people were engaging with (ibid.). Similar research reports that 12% of American adults played a musical instrument in 2012, and only 2% performed or practised classical music (ICPSR 2013, p. 10). Although certainly not a precise indicator of popularity, it is perhaps telling that the 2017 *Oxford Handbook of Music Making and Leisure* includes scant reference to chamber music in deference to a number of other genres and music making-contexts (Mantie and Smith 2017). More research is needed to gain an accurate picture of the incidence of chamber music in daily life, but available information suggests that it is neither a large feature of musical events across anglophone cultures nor a common form of recreational activity.

At the end of his article, Botstein proposes that the future of chamber music should lie more firmly within academia:

The marginal and impractical and yet prestigious in culture is protected within the college or university and is funded by patrons who often have no personal interest in the subject matter. Philanthropists of higher education rely on the scholarly community and its expertise and believe that the preservation and extension of the traditions they uphold are important goals in themselves. The culture of musical performance can benefit from taking greater refuge within campus walls, particularly in urban areas. (Botstein 2008, p. 5)

The first sentence is a particularly telling assessment: chamber music is marginal and impractical, yet culturally prestigious. As highlighted previously, chamber music may well have become marginal in economic or cultural capacities at this point in time. The label of "impracticality", however, could bear further critique. Given Botstein's focus on the financial details of the chamber music ecosystem, perhaps he is arguing that its production is not as economically viable as other forms of music making. Within a capitalist framework, however, chamber music is surely *more* economically viable than many other forms of art music, particularly symphony orchestras.

In several ways, Botstein's article echoes Susan McClary's critique of avant-garde composition ("difficult music") more than thirty years ago (McClary 1989). In contrast to McClary, however, Botstein concludes that a way of rectifying this situation is to further cloister chamber music within academia—*not* address its supposed marginality or impracticality. Botstein's recommendation that chamber music would benefit most from "taking greater refuge within campus walls, particularly in urban areas" (Botstein 2008, p. 5) prompts a number of questions about the musical heritage he is seeking to preserve. What makes up the "culture of musical performance" within chamber music? Is this culture significantly distinct from other forms of joint music making? To what extent is this culture linked to a certain demographic? Additionally, and most importantly, what is this culture being preserved in light of? Botstein's clarification that urban areas may present a greater risk to the culture of chamber music performance is problematic in that it aligns perceived cultural value ("prestigious in culture") with demographics, belying an underlying assumption that chamber music is at odds with urban musical life.

This chapter endeavours to expand on the conversation started by Botstein, providing a state of play of chamber music within the 21st century. The first part of the chapter situates chamber music in 21st century society, investigating the extent to which it may be considered simultaneously culturally valuable and anachronistic. This will primarily entail establishing a more nuanced definition of the phenomenon and identifying the greater narratives it is woven into. In Botstein's article, and thus far in this chapter, chamber music has been primarily considered as an activity; this does not account for the vast array of repertoire that is also referred to as "chamber music". Untangling the dual nature of this term provides insight into the nuanced ways that this phenomenon is encountered within society. The second part of the chapter proposes how chamber music may be considered as a dialogue between an

activity and a repertoire, allowing it to be repositioned within 21st century society in order to address its potential marginality, impracticality, and even prestige.

There are two factors to note about the framing of the material presented in this chapter. First, this work has emerged from a distinctly anglophone perspective, and thus the extent to which it may be extrapolated to other social, cultural, and economic contexts may be limited. Second, and more importantly, the aim of this chapter is not to address chamber music in relation to a society which presupposes that chamber music is inherently valuable or necessary. It could be argued that a significant amount of writing about chamber music is produced by and for those people who already assign cultural value to it. Rather, this chapter attempts to more objectively evaluate chamber music as a form of interpersonal musicking within the 21st century.

#### **2. The Noun**

Mark Radice's (2012) *Chamber Music: An Essential History* is a fascinating musicological document, but perhaps not for reasons the author would have intended. Woven through numerous descriptions of works and historical anecdotes about composers are allusions to the nature of "authentic" chamber music. At times, this authenticity is grounded in historical concepts, such as situating Scacchi's *musica cubicularis* exclusively within private residences (Radice 2012, p. 1). As the book progresses, however, this attachment to historical precedent becomes restrictive in oddly specific ways. According to Radice, chamber music is not authentic, real, or good if it displays any of the following characteristics:


The vast amount of semantic baggage that accompanies Radice's concept of chamber music is evident in this document. That a book that proclaims to have an essential history of the practice has such a precise view as to what counts as chamber music suggests that the phenomenon could fall afoul of rather stringent gatekeeping. Whilst such exclusionary views about what is and is not chamber music is common in the literature written a century ago (e.g., Boughton 1912; and Pierce 1925), it is somewhat surprising that it is present in a 21st century textbook.

This prompts two observations about modern understandings of chamber music:


For all the evident passion for chamber music, there is a level of criticality missing from Radice's text, particularly around the use of language. Throughout the book, the term "chamber music" is used to refer both to a specific repertoire of musical works and a type of performance, with the overall emphasis far in favour of discussing musical works (and, oddly, their tonal features) than practice. This is common across academia, where "chamber music" appears to overwhelmingly refer to chamber repertoire. Books such as Melvin Berger's (1985) *Guide to Chamber Music*, James McCalla's (1996) *Twentieth-Century Chamber Music*, and Paul Jeffery's (2017) *Player's Guide to Chamber Music* are primarily catalogues of repertoire, with some passing comments on performance. This is perhaps more indicative of musicological trends than anything else; musical performance started to gain traction as an object of research only at the turn of the 21st century. However, as has become widely recognised within musicological discourse, musical practice and musical repertoire exist in tandem with each other, and thus there is a need for *both* versions of the term "chamber music" to be investigated.

The distinction between music as an activity and an object has been explored from a sociological perspective by Roy and Dowd (2010). According to them, these different conceptions of music prompt different means of engagement. Music as an activity is "something always becoming that never achieves full object status, something unbounded and open, something that is a verb (musicking) rather than a noun" (Roy and Dowd 2010, p. 186). Music as an object, however, "has a moment of creation, a stability of characteristics across time and place, and potential for use and effects . . . [and thus] can be abstracted from its time and place and put into new contexts" (ibid., p. 184). This ontological duality provides a useful starting point to understand chamber music. Thus, for the purposes of this chapter, I use the terms "chamber musicking" (activity) and "chamber repertoire" (object) to help clarify which meaning of "chamber music" I am referring to at any given time.

#### *2.1. Chamber Musicking*

In its broadest capacity, the activity of chamber music is a form of musicking that involves a small number of performers, each playing their own part (Chamber Music America 2021). Although generally disregarded, a key caveat to this definition is that chamber musicking adheres to a large number of implicit conventions in western art music. The instruments used are primarily orchestral, and the musicians are generally expected to be performing from notation. In an even broader sense, chamber musicking exists in a worldview which distinguishes between composer, performer, and audience. Whilst contextualising chamber musicking explicitly within western art music might appear pedantic, not doing so suggests that the activity includes *any* small ensemble musicking from around the world (see Griffiths 2003; and Harrison 2006). From this perspective, the umbrella of western art music is a useful demarcation.

Central to many definitions of chamber musicking is location. As composer John Luther Adams notes, chamber music speaks "directly to the importance of the places in which we make and listen to music. It also implies an intimacy and immediacy we don't usually experience in a large concert hall, theater or opera house" (Adams 2001). Historically, chamber musicking was often rooted in private residences, and served as a means of entertainment for those participating or observing. However, as concert halls and other public venues became the cultural sites for western art music, chamber musicking itself became both less private and more formal. Its social function pivoted; rather than being a recreational activity for the performers, placing the practice on stage distanced the performers from the audience, reinforcing that they were more spectators than active participants. This pivot illustrates a transition between two of Thomas Turino's fields of music making practice: "participatory musicking", where "there are no artist-audience distinctions, only participants and potential participants" (Turino 2008, p. 28), and "presentational musicking", which centres around performances that are "prepared by musicians for others to listen to" (ibid., p. 52). Chamber musicking's shift from a participatory activity to a presentational one is not unique, as similar transitions in music making in general have happened throughout the 20th century. As the practice of chamber musicking moved from homes to other performance spaces, the resulting void in the recreational ecosystem was filled by other forms of music making, particularly with garage bands and other home-grown ensembles. In the 21st century, technological advancements have encouraged new forms of private recreational musicking to emerge, including karaoke; bedroom music production; or video games, such as Rock Band or Guitar Hero. In a way, whilst people could historically engage with music that required multiple parts within their homes through chamber musicking, karaoke machines, computers, and games consoles have obviated the need for other people to be present to allow a form of private musicking to take place. None of this is to say that chamber musicking, in its traditional sense, cannot be found in modern homes, but that for the most part it has been supplanted by other activities.

Although it has moved away from its participatory roots, chamber musicking is consistently characterised as an exemplar society rooted in equality, with Chamber Music America going so far as to highlight its "potential to exemplify democracy, mutual respect, and empathy" as a core value (Chamber Music America 2013, p. 5). This democratic environment requires each player to demonstrate a high level of independence (Neidlinger 2011, p. 22). Christopher Small writes that chamber

musicking "is much more sociable and even intimate [than other forms of classical musicking]; it affords greater autonomy, more self-direction, to the individual performer and the opportunity for more spontaneous interaction with others" (Small 2001, p. 354). This independence—and the resulting democratic musicking that follows—does not come without prerequisites. As Susan Bradshaw argues, chamber musicians not only need to understand their parts, but also need to be responsible for the workings of the whole piece (Bradshaw 1977, p. 8).

As a by-product of this egalitarian approach, chamber musicking does not traditionally require a conductor (Chamber Music America 2021). However, this restriction has eased as the complexity of pieces has increased, a move which has not been without contention. Bradshaw bemoans *Pierrot Lunaire* as a watershed moment that shifted the nature of chamber ensembles towards mini-orchestras, where performers could effectively relinquish their own global understanding of how pieces worked (Bradshaw 1977, p. 7). More recently, the use of a conductor may *still* be perceived to sully chamber music; in his aforementioned textbook, Radice is careful to distinguish Arnold Schönberg's *Ode* from his "authentic chamber scores" as it relies on a conductor (Radice 2012, p. 215).

Chamber musicking may well be emblematic of an equal society, but participation in that society has preconditions—mainly that performers are well-versed enough in the conventions and theory of western art music to navigate their part independently and have the technical prowess on their instruments to execute it. Having such a participation threshold is not uncommon across other activities in society—consider other types of musicking, sport, etc.—but clarifying these preconditions is important in understanding how chamber musicking has shifted in relation to other activities. Although the threshold for participation in chamber musicking may not have changed dramatically, there has been a transition from a notation-centric music literacy towards a digital music literacy over the 20th century, meaning that potentially fewer people are in a position to engage with the preconditions inherent in many forms of chamber music (cf. Dahl 2009). Pauline Griffiths cautions against presuming that barriers to entry are financial; instead, noting that "for most of the population, the barriers of entry to the arts . . . such as knowledge and skill, mean that choice is not even possible" (Griffiths 2003, p. 30). Thus, although it is still a recreational activity for some, perceived barriers to entry might limit the extent to which the wider population engages in chamber musicking in their own homes.

#### *2.2. Chamber Repertoire*

The content performed in chamber musicking is "chamber music" as an object: chamber repertoire. The existence of a canon of chamber repertoire is perhaps an outgrowth of one of the overarching narratives of western art music in the last two

centuries related to the rise (and critique) of the "work" concept, or the idea that musical works may exist as objects that transcend their individual manifestations in performance (Goehr 1994). Whilst there are certainly long-standing philosophical debates as to the primacy of the work-concept, its cultural presence is certainly felt through the creation and maintenance of the canon (Talbot 2000).

The common characteristics of chamber repertoire are intimately linked to the process of chamber musicking, resulting in numerous parallels. Designed for a small number of performers, chamber repertoire features musical lines which generally move independently of each other. The balance of complication and importance across the parts within a piece of chamber repertoire is particularly important, as this interplay provides the template upon which the purported intimate social relationships are founded. Reframing the relationship between chamber musicking and chamber repertoire in terms of sport is useful in summarising the characteristics of this repertoire. The rules of a sport are designed to encourage specific sorts of behaviour and interaction. In non-competitive sport, in particular, the chief priority is presumably to create the context by which people can share a specific kind of interaction with each other. In the "sport" of chamber musicking, pieces are generally designed to encourage performers to interact in such a way as to generate egalitarian relationships. Thus, chamber repertoire is generally noted to balance parts in terms of musical interest, technical challenge, and complexity (Radice 2012, p. 106).

More abstractly, chamber repertoire has been described as being particularly valuable within western art music and western society in general. Christopher Small captures what he perceives to be a prevailing view of chamber repertoire by its fans as "such rich musical treasures, some of the most refined and beautiful, most intimate and satisfying, and above all most spiritually elevating and intellectually stimulating of all works of music" (Small 2001, p. 340). Janet Levy similarly points out how describing a non-chamber work as chamber music has been "something *to* achieve—an ultimate status" (Levy 1987, p. 12). To Radice, this body of work goes so far as to represent the core musical heritage in western art music (Radice 2012, p. 210), containing "nuance, complexity, and delicacy" (ibid., p. 273). Although the extent to which these statements are true is subjective, it is important to recognise that chamber repertoire—and, as a by-product, chamber musicking—is imbued with a large amount of cultural importance by different groups in western society. Within this canon of western art music, William Weber notes that chamber music was deemed the "pinnacle" of 19th century classical genres (Weber 1999, p. 354). Thus, in this context, Berger's (1985) *Guide to Chamber Music*, Keller's (2010) *Chamber Music: A Listener's Guide*, McCalla's (1996) *Twentieth-Century Chamber Music*, and Radice's (2012) *Chamber Music: An Essential History* reinforce not only the content of this canon, but also that this canon exists in a somewhat linear and modernist fashion.

#### *2.3. Narratives of Exclusion*

Exploring the shift of chamber musicking from the private to the public sphere and the enshrinement of chamber repertoire within canon may provide insights into how chamber music's role within society may have changed. This broad narrative was highlighted by Christopher Small at the turn of the century:

When chamber musicking becomes professionalised . . . there is introduced into the encounter a further distancing [between participants]. Under the day-to-day pressures of professional performance the little society can become less and less egalitarian and may fall increasingly under the command of one strong member of the group. As that happens, relationships with listeners become also more distanced, and the larger the setting the more distancing there will be, until finally, however wonderful the musical works may be that are being played, however superb the performers, the conviviality that gave birth in the first place to that mode of musicking has fled. Maybe we are prepared to pay that price, in the interest of greater refinement of playing, but we should be aware that there *is* a price. It's something we might remember when we use the word "professional" as a term of approval and "amateur" as one of abuse. (Small 2001, p. 354)

The trajectory that Small outlines has become apparent when considering chamber music's accessibility to general audiences. In their work on young adult listeners' perspectives towards chamber music concerts, Lucy Dearn and Stephanie Pitts note that such events are generally perceived as requiring a certain degree of knowledge to appreciate, find meaning in, or engage with (Dearn and Pitts 2017, p. 44). Regardless of its accuracy, this expectation leads to the perception that both chamber musicking and repertoire are only enjoyed by a subset of the larger population; in particular, one which has been trained to "understand" this music. The resulting exclusivity could have opposing impacts on different potential audiences. Some audiences may view this exclusivity as a benefit—a cultural "members-only" club which grants prestige to those who participate. Others, however, may view this exclusivity as alienating, reinforcing cultural class distinctions. Pulling chamber music further into academia may encourage it to be even further entrenched in its exclusivity, or unpopularity, propagating a cloistered existence which increasingly distances it from commercial canon and practices.

Little research has been conducted on both audiences' and performers' participation in chamber music. However, pockets of specific information are available, which allow some conclusions to be inferred. Looking at audience behaviour in Sheffield, chamber music concerts are principally attended by people over 45 years of age and within the upper- and middle-middle class social grades (Barlow and Shibli 2007). This demographic trend is not new: even in the late 1980s,

Janet Levy recognised the class relationships embedded within chamber music when she wrote:

For many people, part of [chamber music's] captivation may reside in the "memory" of chamber music's having originated in performances in salons of the upper classes. This now archaic link with the upper classes and connoisseurship has a mystique that dies hard. At the same time there is the quasi-contradictory and vicarious experience of democracy: the listener witnesses the democratic functioning of equals on a team. There is also the alluring mystery of ensemble-playing without a conductor. Thus some of the covert valuing of chamber music might, paradoxically, be understood as providing vicarious experiences of the best of both worlds—the aristocratic and the democratic! (Levy 1987, p. 14)

In an Australian context, Pauline Griffiths writes that chamber music audiences form "a narrow social group", and that chamber music "remains unattractive and therefore off limits to most Australians despite the communication strategies of music organisations and their attempts to let people know what is going on inside concert halls" (Griffiths 2003, p. 23). Thus, it is arguable that the mystique of connoisseurship has not yet died at this point in the 21st century.
