Look past the glistening sheen of objectivity in music or MCAS, and bandura together in Inman
by Michael Gutierrez 15 August 2024
Should music be graded?
Think of this as an analogous, if lower-stakes, debate akin to the discussion surrounding the proposed repeal of the MCAS as a high school graduation requirement, which you’ll vote on as a state ballot initiative (Question 2) in November.
Consider the proposal of a uniform grading system for music. It’s not my idea (what do I know?); credit the notion instead to people such as English painter and author Jonathan Richardson, whose 18th century manuscript “Essay on the Whole Art of Criticism” (modest title!) proposed to reduce art criticism to an 18-point scale that tallied up numeric scores in various categories, such as drawing, composition, invention, coloring and more.
Eighteen is kind of a lumpy number. And it isn’t entirely clear how some of the more visually motivated categories such as “drawing” map on to music. But Richardson, and his slightly askance painter’s beret, were hot on the trail of an art critical gold mine: objective assessment.
Fast-forward to the present day and we have all types of art grading systems. Siskel and Ebert gave us the thumbs. Robert Christgau, the “dean of American rock critics,” traumatized generations of musicians with letter grades in his famous Consumer Guide. And Pitchfork hands out scores on the 10-point scale, which is a number that enjoys the virtue of not being 18.
Critics being critics, though, most can’t let the ratings speak for themselves. Once the sheen of objective assessment is glistening sufficiently, like bacon in the pan, most critics will lather the rating with subjective gloss to get their kicks. Christgau famously skewered the soon-to-be legendary Sonic Youth in the early ’80s, calling them “boho posers,” flaunting “hackneyed manic depression,” addicted to “phony grandeur.” Yikes!
As the ’80s marched on, Christgau changed his tune. After years of grades not good enough to admit a nonlegacy into an Ivy League school, Christgau gave “Sister” (1987) an A for “not letting their slack-jawed musings drone on too long.”
Not quite a ringing endorsement. But by the time he issued another A to “Daydream Nation” a year later, he was ready to brand “their discordant never-let-up” as “a philosophical triumph.” He graded at least 10 more full-length studio albums by Sonic Youth over the span of 20 more years and never handed out anything less than an A-.
Quite the turnaround – what happened?
Sonic Youth went on to become one of the most influential bands of their generation, giving spark to the “alternative” sound that defined the ’90s and marked rock ’n’ roll ever since. It’s not clear whether the band’s sound caught up to Christgau’s tastes or vice versa. But it’s clear that if the “boho posers” took their early skewering too seriously, the band would never have survived to find its place in music history.
Happily, nobody takes art criticism too seriously. As bad as it is to be called a “boho poser,” you can still scrape up three or four people who don’t give a damn and go make noise in a club. Art criticism is provocative, full of insights and also full of bullshit that changes with the wind. It should be ignored at will because the consequences of not doing so are too awful.
Let me circle back to the MCAS debate, though, because the test is a great example of a value assessment that people can’t bring themselves to ignore – with awful consequences. There is no good evidence that standardized tests are a fair and accurate predictor of success, and plenty of evidence to the contrary. But goddamn, the glistening sheen of objectivity, however illusory, is downright erotic.
If you are really looking for ways to measure the aptitude, abilities and knowledge of our students, go ask the Massachusetts Teachers Association. It has plenty of ideas, including using the MCAS as a diagnostic tool rather than a prerequisite for a diploma. What is useful about standardized tests is compromised when they’re used the way we use a period at the end of a sentence. To cut things short. To cut potential short.
Presumably we’re not just looking for a reason to classify a chunk of state residents as human chum condemned to a lifetime of lower earnings and diminished opportunity because they didn’t score high enough on a standardized test to earn a high school diploma when they were teenagers? Those are the consequences. The stakes are high. Nothing wrong with assessments, but you’ve got to be able to tell the Richardsons, the Christgaus, the Pitchforks and the MCAS to go to hell once in a while.
And if none of the above moves you, just listen to the teachers. What do they say? To vote “yes” on Question 2 to repeal the MCAS requirement for graduation. If we’re not listening to the teachers on this question, what are we doing?
