If the work of every dead composer vanished from existence, I think there would be a great rush to write new music. Young composers might suddenly find themselves able to afford not only their rent, but a night out once a week. Not only would there be a literal void to fill (imagine the empty libraries! The record collections!), there would be a creative one. With so much less music to draw inspiration from, new musicians might be more at liberty to innovate. Faced with the task of putting together a concert post music ghost, I think I would look to my talented peers for new music. If old music is gone, why even bother with music that was written when it was around? It would be a great chance to connect and encourage each otherās wildest creative qualities. In that sense, I think that ādeadā music can sometimes take up space where living voices could otherwise thrive.
However, the past can be a crucial creative connection; consider Jeremy Dutcher, who blends classical music with Wolastoq songs recorded on wax cylinders. In this case, old recordings helped a young artist share a different way of thinking; in his words, āIf you lose the language [ā¦] youāre losing an entire way of seeing and experiencing the world from a distinctly Indigenous perspective.ā For myself, losing the music of the past would be an exciting opportunity to explore and innovate. For others though, it could be a devastating loss of cultural identity.
To bring this all back to Nietzsche, yes, annotating and re-interpreting the past is crucial if we are not to be stifled by it. But I think itās also worth noting that for some, connecting to the past can be the key to putting forth our ānoblest qualities in all their strengthā in the present.