The Eternal Mystery of Music

The eternal mystery of music (and why we love it!)

It ’ather moves me or it don’t.

— Elvis Presley

Music is arguably the most abstract of all the arts. And to me, it’s almost unreal. It has no physical shape, form, or body. We can’t see, feel, smell, or taste it. To experience it, we’re left with just our ears. And it doesn’t present itself all at once. We take it in over time, whether a three-minute pop song or a full-on symphony.

But in this way, music allows us to form our own unique thoughts and feelings — the kind that only come from abstract experiences.

And whatever those feelings are, and whatever the genre of music — hip, square, or somewhere in between — there’s really just one question: Does it move you? If it does, and the emotions it sparks are real and uniquely yours, that’s all that matters. (Just ask Elvis!)

Because given music’s abstract nature, why and how it affects us can be a mystery.

Of course, the term “abstract” can be applied to other art forms. There’s abstract sculpture, dance, design, film, photography, literature, and painting. In fact, when I think of the word “abstract” the first thing that comes to mind is Picasso, Kandinsky, Pollack, Krasner, Mondrian, deKooning (Willem and Elaine), Miro, Klee, Mondrian, O’Keefe. And they are just a few painters who could create images that spark our own visions — often far outside of what is presented.

Music, too, forces us to project our own images (I’m not including songs with lyrics, but even they have their own abstract, interpretive dimension). While the visual arts usually have physical shape, music has none. We tend to trust things that we can see, feel, smell and taste, while things that we detect with our ears require a bit more attention.

When we hear music, we often have images or emotions stirred within us. Uptempo music can reflect exhilaration or joy, and we may recall events, places or people that we associate with it. Slow, lilting music may make us feel peaceful. Dramatic music can evoke feelings of grandeur, while simpler music can still provide great intimacy.

Here’s the thing: Since we’ve all have had unique experiences in our lives, the images and feelings that music brings to us will also be unique. Some people may feel dark or sad with uptempo music and happy with slow, lilting music. They may feel morose with dramatic music and experience a surging confidence with simple songs. That is the abstract power of music.

As a composer, music may have a somewhat more visual aspect for me, more so than the average person. I work with shapes in the forms of notes, rests, slurs, dynamics, and other compositional tools. When I start a piece, it’s just an empty score page. I must envision the sounds in my head. They can be melodies, chords, baselines or rhythms. As I continue, my piece begins to take on a (musical) form. At one point there might be a flurry of notes making my score look dense. At another point it may be simple and sparse. As I scan the piece from page to page I can see all the notations forming abstract shapes. To my eyes, they are the “contour” of my composition. They represent the music which I “see” in my mind.

All music, whether it is written or not, can be analyzed with musical notation to some degree. Many composers have used folksongs as basic, motivic material to create their symphonic works (notably, Bela Bartok). If we think of music in that sense, we realize that all music is essentially made up of the same musical DNA. Everything from a thirty-second TV commercial jingle to a concert stage-worthy symphony share the same musical genes.

Perhaps, that is one reason I never question the kinds of music I like. Sometimes even the cheesiest pop song makes me want to cry. And I want to be open to those emotions, from wherever they may arise.

The great French film maker Francois Trudeau once said that when he would come to America, he’d immediately turn on the TV in his hotel room to watch American commercials. He loved their condensed, cinematic form. When I listen to a recording of one of my favorite classical composers, I might follow it up with say, oh, Motley Crue (yes, I am a big Crue fan!). Two types of music that couldn’t be more opposite! But as I stated, they are composed of basically the same elements (melodies, chord and rhythms). I also listen to and create jazz music, funk, Latin, pop, etc. I can compose in many different genres with a degree of expertise. Not just because I have the tools but because at some point in my life, I was stirred by something indefinable in their invisible, abstract nature.

Growing up, I experienced all different types of music. Everything from the ’60s pop music I heard on Los Angeles AM radio stations to the Lawerence Welk Show, Saturday nights on our family TV. I was happy being at Donte’s jazz club in North Hollywood listening to Supersax, Chuck Mangione, Clark Terry, or Lee Ritenour. But I was also quite content watching “Polka Parade” on television. It was all live and, yes, “abstract.” And as Elvis would say, it moved me....

Of course, music can feel physical -- and make us want to move our bodies. That can be as subtle as toe-tapping or finger-snapping or as dynamic as the ballet. Our movements often reflect the energy of the music. We can gyrate wildly while listening to Led Zeppelin or move gracefully throughout the room upon hearing Debussy’s Clair de Lune. And we humans aren’t even alone. What’s more charming than a parrot bobbing its head up and down in tempo to the music?

However many cultures there are in the world, that’s how many types of music there are. All you have to do to enjoy them (or not), is to experience them. As the world becomes a smaller place, opportunities to hear all kinds of music become almost overwhelming. But whether or not we like or dislike something is always our own decision.

But the reasons why we like something may always be difficult to explain. As a composer, I can tell you about linear motion, harmony, counterpoint, syncopation, and form. All technical musical terms. But why does that simple one-five bass pattern and shuffle rhythm sound SO good when Paul and Ringo play it on I Feel Fine? Explain it? Me? The composer and professor? I’m as clueless as anyone — even Elvis.

But maybe that’s for the best. Here’s to keeping that invisible, abstract, magical attraction of music an eternal mystery.

Rich Shemaria

October 28, 2025