Jerrold Levinson

This essay offers a sketch of what aesthetic appreciation of music fundamentally consists in, underlining both why such engagement counts as aesthetic and why such engagement counts as appreciation, and emphasizing the role of perception of gesture in the grasp of musical expressiveness. The analysis is illustrated by a piece of chamber music of Gabriel Fauré. In the last section of the essay I address some remarks of Roger Scruton on the connection between music and dance, ones whose relevance to the appreciation of music is clear

Stephen Yablo has attempted recently to revive the notion of contingent identity, identifying this with a relation of L coincidence between objects that are "distinct by nature but the same in the circumstances" (296). Yablo argues convincingly for the need of essentialist metaphysics to recognize some relation of this sort, a relation of "intimate identity-like connections between things" (296) if it is to acknowledge properly the intuitive difference between (i) the nonidentity of a bust B and a hunk of wax H of which it is composed, and (ii) the nonidentity of the hunk H and the Treaty of Versailles. (i) and (ii) are clearly not on the same level. Even though B, like the Treaty of Versailles, fails to be strictly identical to H, it is very closely, and quite specially, related to it. What this relation is is certainly worth a general inquiry

Ivan is a gifted pianist, but spends most of his time at the keyboard playing simple blues progressions over and over. Sarah is fluent in French, but avoids every opportunity to converse in that language. Greg lives in a household whose kitchen offers an assortment of tantalizing foods, yet he never eats anything except bagels and cream cheese. Melinda has many friends, with whom she would enjoy socializing, but she forgoes their company to devote all her free time to video games. Clive is a champion mountain climber, but has lately taken to never venturing out of the house. Esther has a masters degree in comparative literature, but now reads nothing but Harlequin romances. And Phil is partial to the Allegros in Bach’s Brandenburg Concerti, but only as background music for dancing, not as something to listen to with attention.

Expressive music, almost everyone agrees, evokes an emotional response of some kind in receptive listeners, at least some of the time, in at least some conditions of listening. But is such an emotional response distinctive of or unique to the music that evokes it? In other words, is there such a thing as music-specific emotion? This essay is devoted to an exploration of that question and others related to it. In the main part of the essay a sixpart component model of a standard emotion is set out, and a case is made for the music-specificity of an emotional response to music of a mirroring sort, with respect to four of the six components of such emotion. In the latter part of the essay aspects of the phenomenology of the music-listening experience, and especially that of the inner sounding of music being heard, are explored further, and issues of the value, communicability, and degree of singularity of the emotional response to expressive music are addressed.

In the beginning—or more exactly, the seventies, when I was in graduate school at the University of Michigan—was the void, and darkness was upon the face of the waters. Philosophical reflection on the experience, meaning, and powers of music by analytic philosophers was almost non-existent. And then, as the 1980s dawned, came Peter Kivy. Suddenly there was light, and analytic philosophy of music was born. In this piece I summarize the substance of the successive instalments in the astounding series of books on the philosophy of music that Peter published between 1980 and 2002, allowing myself some critical reflections in a few cases.

Je me fixe deux objectifs dans ce texte. Le premier est de situer l’esthétique ou la philosophie de l’art par rapport à la philosophie en général et d’expliquer pourquoi elle a été la préoccupation centrale de tant de philosophes dans la tradition. Mon second objectif est de définir un courant dominant de l’esthétique des trente dernières années, que je nomme « contextualisme », et d’expliquer son importance en ce qui concerne les réflexions des artistes, critiques, théoriciens et publics à propos de l’art. Le contextualisme, en un mot, est la thèse selon laquelle les oeuvres d’art sont, du point de vue ontologique, épistémologique et de la critique, liées à leur contexte de création et de projection ; en dehors de ce contexte, les oeuvres d’art cessent d’être ce qu’elles sont et n’ont plus les qualités et significations qu’elles possèdent en réalité.This essay has two main objectives. The first is to situate aesthetics or philosophy of art in relation to philosophy as a whole, and to suggest why it has been a primary concern of so many philosophers in the tradition. The second is to identify a dominant strand in philosophical aesthetics of the past thirty years or so, which I label contextualism, and to explain its importance to thinking about art on the part of artists, critics, theorists, and audiences. Contextualism, in brief, is the claim that works of art are ontologically, epistemically, and appreciatively bound up with their contexts of creation and projection, outside of which they cease to be what they are and fail to present the qualities and meanings they in fact possess

I first show why Davidson was wrong to maintain that there is no such thing as metaphorical meaning, that which paraphrases strive to capture. I then sketch a conception of metaphors as utterances in contexts, and suggest how such utterances can acquire metaphorical meanings despite there being no semantic rules for the projection of such meanings. I next urge the essentiality of a metaphor's verbal formulation to its being the metaphor it is, and I conclude with some reflections on common and uncommon metaphors, and on the difficulty of finding strings of words resistant to metaphorical construal.