Lately, I’ve found myself either moderating discussions related to technology and culture or attending events focused on artificial intelligence—topics like whether machines will take over, if robots will enslave us, and so on. It’s not so much about the relationship between technology and music, but more about the connection between cultural capital in Greece (and globally, in a sense, as we’re now a global village…) and the use, dissemination, preservation, and wise reuse of our cultural heritage.
Although I like to believe I have a rather vivid imagination as a true science fiction fan, it seems to me that what’s happening now, and how quickly it’s happening, will soon surpass any fertile imagination of writers, screenwriters, and others who speak of the future. It feels like we’re moving at such an extreme pace of change that I wouldn’t be surprised if the most unimaginable thing happened tomorrow morning.
In culture, and especially in music, we are close to creating endless immersive worlds that we will probably be able to access from home using a simple headset (the well-known VR headsets), which will soon cost very little. This way, we’ll be able to be in concert halls, see Mozart conducting The Abduction from the Seraglio, and generally, reality and the digital/augmented world will begin to merge.
But how good is this, really? Might we ultimately lose much of what makes cultural goods unique? Because if we stop going to concert halls and instead watch identical concerts in virtual form, will music still have any meaning? The feeling one gets walking those few steps to their seat in a concert hall is a sacred experience, which we take for granted today. It’s like what happened with sleep and the army: before I was a soldier, sleep was a necessary evil for me; I only truly appreciated it during those few hours I found to rest and recuperate (perhaps I served in a different era…). In short, we take some things for granted and don’t enjoy the moment, never imagining they might disappear. Just think…
I’ll leave you this week with the optimistic view of Maria Florou, director of the Technopolis City of Athens museums, who told me in a recent public discussion that the tactile experience of a museum will never be lost, and people will always seek it out. I hope she’s right, because from my own perspective, I’d say people will never want to lose the concert experience. But what if people are born who have never had that experience, and thus won’t care to lose it?
