A Matter of Taste

I remembered that modern discordant music is not my favorite as I sat in the very front row at the Kennedy Center, literally about 4 feet from the violist. I was close enough to hear the musicians breathe and to feel the contact of their bows with the strings. But the music didn’t speak to me.

A friend who just retired invited me to join him for this concert. He had found an evening of chamber music by a contemporary female composer. She has a very interesting musical background, but knowing him I had a good idea of what sound to expect. With each of the 6 pieces, I was somewhat transported but it was mostly a feeling of agitation as the notes refused to resolve into something pleasant. My favorite piece of the evening was a 3-1/2 minute viola solo, beautifully executed by the principal of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, ending with a note that simply faded away for a long time.

This experience made me wonder if we are born to like a particular type of music -- hard-wired so to speak. I certainly didn’t grow up with Bach or Beethoven playing in the background, but it’s those composers who connect with my soul. I like other music, mostly instrumental with the exception of The Beatles. But it’s those classical composers to which I gravitate always.

I’m not averse to listening to other people’s musical favorites, in an effort to be sociable and maybe to even broaden my musical horizons. So with my husband I go hear people mourn their lost loves while strumming guitars. And with my friend Doug I try to see what appeals to him among all those discordant notes.

Then I go home and play my piano and am reminded of what I like best.

What’s your theory about how we come to like what we like? And, by the way, what is your favorite?