Tim Whitelaw

In "Requiem for an Orchestra" last month, David Dubal extrapolated the demise of the San José Symphony to a broader point, lamenting the loss of artistic culture in American society. The facts—another orchestra goes under due to insufficient funding and mismanagement—were depressingly familiar. But in his keenness to emphasize the desperate plight of many American arts organizations, I wonder if Mr. Dubal began hurling out the babies with the bath water.

Part of the problem is that Mr. Dubal measures society's artistic interests today by the same spurious yardsticks as he would have 50 years ago, and thus mistakes metamorphosis in artistic culture for paralysis—an oversight that undermines many of his points. He seems keen on the idea of piano production as a measure of society's interest in music, and touts a fall in production in the 1930s-40s as a cultural cataclysm. The same ersatz logic would conclude a fall in boat travel since 1950 is proof that fewer people are going abroad. I don't really think a drop in piano production tells us anything about society's interest in artistic activity—particularly at a time when film, theater, and dance were flourishing and the Gramophone was being introduced. In fact, the Gramophone was surely one of the greatest boons to classical music ever, allowing generations of youngsters to be inspired by hearing the greatest musicians perform music they otherwise might never have heard. Or perhaps people took up the guitar instead. So maybe they're not all playing Brahms. Who says they should? We live in a different time.

The crowning horror was apparently returning to his old school to find its piano had been replaced with an electronic keyboard. But does this really signal a reduction in artistic activity—a transformation from "producer" to "consumer" culture? I would argue the opposite: that electronic music has been one of the great empowering, creative forces of the last 40 years, allowing amateur musicians to produce professional music in their living rooms—classical, popular, or whatever. It's different, certainly; it may not be better, but I really don't think it's worse.

The onus is now upon us to convince society that the arts are still relevant.

Another electronic form, television, incurs Mr. Dubal's wrath; he brands it as being "cynical about the arts." Now, I'm as confounded as the next person by the globulous pap that Americans are subjected to via TV, but the fact is, television is part of the arts—admittedly one whose amazing potential has seldom been tapped, but it has made valuable contributions to culture—both classical and popular—over the years. Yes, most TV is schlock, but there are some gems among the detritus and, in a commercial society, this is the case with just about everything. True, television is predominately a vehicle for the popular arts, and Mr. Dubal seems to view popular culture as the enemy of classical culture, ignoring the fact that at least some classical culture was the "popular" culture of its day. And who's to say The Simpsons won't one day be scrutinized for its socio-political meaning, let alone writing savvy?

Beyond the minutiae, there is the overarching criticism that society no longer takes the interest it once did in the classical arts. But the classical arts have never been the quotidian experience that is often implied in such arguments. Sure, occasionally an artist such as Shakespeare or Wagner or Dickens would attain a popular following, but couldn't we say the same about Spielberg, Hitchcock, or Adams or Glass, etc., not to mention classical musicians who enjoy popular affection?

The classical arts are a luxury, and that's because they take time—to appreciate, to learn, to practice, and most of all, to understand the relevance of. Every one of us at Juilliard should be grateful that we have been afforded the time and opportunity to practice our arts. It is a privilege. To criticize society at large for failing to take an interest in artistic activity is partially hypocritical at the very least, since we are all cogs in a consumer machine that deprives those less privileged than ourselves of both time and opportunity. To upbraid your average CNN viewer for having no interest in seeing ballet company itineraries zipping across the screen alongside the Dow Jones averages, as Mr. Dubal seems to, is not only naïve, but implies a disconnection from the reality of many people's lives.

We can howl until we hemorrhage about tax-break philanthropy and waning public interest, but there will always be a place in our society for art and artists who work hard to connect with people's lives directly, without shrouding themselves in an erudite haze. That might well translate to "popularizing" in some eyes, but it will provide the financial insulation that the classical arts—whose importance I fully acknowledge—require to continue to grow. The onus is now upon us to convince society that the arts are relevant to them, and I believe that diatribes bemoaning society's antipathy are completely unhelpful to that purpose—indeed, that the kind of solipsism peddled in Mr. Dubal's article may actually harm the cause. I fear the battle for classical culture on its own terms has been lost, and there is little point in being high-handed or bitter about it. We should expend our energies instead on preserving artistic culture in a way that is positive, realistic, and achievable.

Tim Whitelaw is a graduate diploma student in composition.

Voice Box is a student opinion column appearing regularly in The Juilliard Journal. To submit a column for consideration, please e-mail it to journal@juilliard.edu with “Voice Box” in the subject heading, and include a phone number where you can be reached. Columns should cover topics of interest to the Juilliard community, and be about 500 words.