“Music is divided into good and bad.” It’s a phrase often heard in musical discussions, especially when the conversation delves into comparisons between different genres, styles, and eras.

It is said that Manolis Kalomiris was the first to utter this phrase when he heard Sofia Vembo sing something of his own. We cannot overlook the immense power of a good or distinctive voice. I believe it far surpasses the comparable capabilities of all other instruments, even the most expressive ones.

However, the phrase certainly says something, otherwise it wouldn’t keep recurring. Essentially, it’s the average listener’s “I like it – I don’t like it” expressed differently, and in a way, it implies that music is singular.

I belong to the generation that grew up with books calling music an “international language.” Long before I got involved with ethnomusicology, non-European sounds, and other music, I had realized that this wasn’t true. However, for the “conservatory” books written at the end of the 19^th or beginning of the 20^th century, “international language” meant that music written, for example, in France or Germany could be understood in Russia, Spain, and elsewhere. The tradition of the Great Canon, with its repertoire dominated by German music, confirmed this. National Schools already existed but did not significantly alter this image. They simply added a reasonable dose of new elements and some “exoticism” to the mix.

The first Europeans to come into contact with other music were missionaries, travelers, merchants, and soldiers who arrived and worked in various colonies. It is interesting that in the first relevant writings we have, the music of the “natives” is absolutely incomprehensible and is, at best, treated with condescension. This slowly changes, and scholars show that over time they begin to understand. However, the big change comes at the turn of the 20^th century, when Debussy and Ravel hear a Gamelan orchestra at the Great Exhibition in Paris and are enchanted.

Here, something has changed, and we have entered the modern era. We can say that the familiar old sound is no longer enough. For Debussy (and others), this is absolutely true. But developments accelerate further as, alongside the experiments and explorations of “serious” composers, the phenomenon of Jazz and other musical genres, some with quite “humble” origins, also plays a role. Thus, the 20^th century musically becomes the era of many styles and many speeds.

Another characteristic of the Great Canon and its tradition is the class-defined concert. Formal attire and refined entertainment for bourgeois, aristocrats, and connoisseurs. This is also something that began to face pressure in the second half of the 20^th century.

Today we live in an “ocean of sound,” and Music is not singular. There are dozens of genres, most of which have further subdivisions. The most obvious example is found within the core repertoire itself: Baroque, Classical, Romanticism, 20^th century. Some genres have affinities with each other, and others come from elsewhere with completely different origins. And all are out there, available at the push of a button.

I like it and consider it an advantage. But is it only so? More choices mean more effort, something many people are unwilling to make. The tendency to listen only to what we like and already know is very strong, and most listeners do just that. As Aaron Copland once said: “Today everyone has the opportunity not to understand music.”