Philosophical Theories of Processes in Contemporary Music

Introduction

Music, being one of the oldest forms of art, has always served as a mirror of humanity's philosophical quests. From Pythagorean harmonies reflecting cosmic order [Rychter, 2019] to Enlightenment-era aesthetic treatises where music was understood as the language of emotions [Burney, 1776], philosophy has consistently sought to grasp its essence and influence. In the contemporary era, when soundscapes undergo unprecedented transformations, philosophical reflection on music becomes especially relevant, touching not only on aesthetics but also on sociology, technology, and even cognitive sciences.

Today's lecture is devoted to philosophical and related theories that help us understand the processes occurring in both popular and academic music. We will examine how the very concept of the “musical work” changes [Goehr, 2007], how technologies shape our perception and creation of sound, and what social and cultural shifts are reflected in contemporary musical practices. From the critical perspective of the Frankfurt School on mass culture to postmodern deconstructions and new approaches to studying compositional processes [Donin, 2018], we will attempt to build a comprehensive picture of how philosophy helps us navigate this constantly changing sonic world.

Detailed Exposition

Influence of Cultural Context on Music Perception and Creation

Can music exist outside of cultural context, or is it always an integral part of it, shaped and perceived through the prism of social norms and values? This question lies at the heart of understanding how we interact with music and how it, in turn, shapes us. Musical perception, as Krueger notes, is not determined solely by the acoustic characteristics of sound; cultural norms play a decisive role here [Krueger, 2014]. What seems “correct” or “harmonious” in one culture may be entirely alien in another, indicating the deep-rootedness of musical experience in collective consciousness.

Cultural context not only influences the interpretation of music but also the very process of its creation. The composer, even if striving for universality, is inevitably a product of their era and society. Dmitry Stefanovich, a composer whose views are analyzed by Klyuev, notes that his “abstract musical thinking” was formed as early as elementary school and applies not only to perception but also to composing music. This emphasizes that the creative act is not isolated but deeply integrated into personal and cultural experience.

National identity, according to Klyuev, is part of universal culture but retains its uniqueness and even some separateness. Russian culture, for example, has absorbed elements of Hellenic, Byzantine, and European traditions, reinterpreting them and developing much of what Europe has long abandoned. This process of cultural synthesis and transformation demonstrates the dynamic nature of cultural context, which constantly evolves by absorbing and reworking external influences.

Music acts not only as a reflection but also as an active participant in forming cultural identity. It can enhance the impact of religious rituals, as Klyuev notes, referring to Frazer, who attributed to music a “significant role in the formation and expression of religious emotions.” In this sense, music becomes a powerful tool for maintaining the “humanity of the world,” promoting spirituality and overcoming crises.

However, if music is so deeply rooted in culture, how can we speak of its universal impact? Krueger proposes the model of the “musically extended mind,” where musical affordances—the possibilities music offers for action and perception—allow us to access new emotional experiences [Krueger, 2014]. These affordances, in turn, are shaped by cultural practices, creating a complex interrelation between individual experience and collective norms.

Musical perception is not a passive process; it is active and interactive. Even during “passive” listening, studies show activation of motor areas of the brain, indicating a deep connection between music and movement [Krueger, 2014]. This “interaction” between listener and music is essentially part of a broader cultural ecosystem in which practices continuously evolve, shaping our functioning.

On the other hand, the question arises as to how free the composer is from these cultural constraints. Klyuev, in an interview with composer Dmitry Stefanovich, touches on the theme of inner necessity and spiritual obligation in composing music. Stefanovich sees himself as a “conduit” through which a higher power acts, which can be interpreted as an attempt to transcend purely cultural determinism and touch something transcendent.

Nevertheless, even this “conduit” does not occur in a vacuum. The composer, like any creator, is influenced by their education, teachers, and environment. Stefanovich studied at the Leningrad Conservatory, which undoubtedly shaped his musical language and aesthetic preferences. This confirms the thesis that even the most individual creative acts are permeated by cultural influences.

Cultural context not only leaves an imprint on music but actively participates in its creation and perception, shaping both collective norms and individual experiences. Music, in turn, becomes a powerful instrument for expressing and transforming these cultural realities. However, if cultural context is so all-encompassing, what then is the role of the composer in this complex interaction, and how autonomous is their creativity?

The Role of the Composer and the Music Creation Process

In the previous section, we discussed how cultural context shapes our perception of music, but what can be said about the very source of the musical work—the composer and the process of its creation? The figure of the composer has traditionally been perceived as a kind of demiurge, a creator whose inspiration descends from above, and whose work is the result of unique genius. However, contemporary philosophical and musicological approaches offer a more nuanced view of this role, questioning the absolute autonomy of the creator and emphasizing their involvement in broader cultural, social, and even technological processes.

The traditional understanding of the composer as a conduit of divine intent, as formulated by, for example, Klyuev, remains relevant for some creators today. “I think the Lord guides my hand, but I am not sure I write divine music. I am a conduit...” — this is how one composer describes his experience in an interview cited by Klyuev. This position reflects an archaic, almost mystical conception of creativity, where the composer acts more as a medium than a sole author. Here, music appears as something that already exists in some ideal form and only awaits its embodiment through a person. Such understanding resonates with ancient notions of technē as the revelation of the hidden, as Heidegger reflected, noting that “the more deeply we think about the essence of technology, the more mysterious the essence of art becomes.” Art, in this sense, is not merely creation but rather the discovery of truth.

However, social sciences of music have subjected this sacralized figure of the composer to serious criticism, especially in the context of 20th-century classical music culture. As Donin notes, “Les sciences sociales de la musique ont eu bien raison de critiquer les soubassements normatifs de la culture musicale classique, au cœur desquels se trouve la figure du compositeur, autorité absolue au xxe siècle” (The social sciences of music were quite right to criticize the normative foundations of classical musical culture, at the heart of which is the figure of the composer, the absolute authority in the 20th century) [Donin, 2018]. This critique aims to deconstruct the idea of the composer as the sole and indisputable source of the work's meaning. Donin argues that it is not enough to simply identify new objects of study or fight the academic invisibility of previously “illegitimate” music. It is necessary to shift focus and approach composition as a practice, to understand what specific knowledge it engages and what models of music it performs.

The process of creating music ceases to be exclusively an individual act of genius. It becomes a complex interaction between the composer, their cultural baggage, available technologies, and even audience expectations. For example, in contemporary electronic music or hip-hop, where sampling and collage are actively used, the notion of “authorship” becomes blurred. The composer here is more of an arranger, curator, who collects and reworks existing sound fragments to create a new whole. This questions the traditional hierarchy where the composer stands above the performer and listener.

Moreover, even in the listening process, which seems passive, active interaction occurs. Krueger asserts that we literally hear music through movement, through the “motor potentials” it offers [Krueger, 2014]. Even when the listener does not move overtly, their brain activates motor areas as if preparing for movement. This means that music not only affects us but also provokes a response, shaping our perception. “We hear music as music through the motor potentials it provides,” emphasizes Krueger [Krueger, 2014]. This is a two-way interaction where music shapes our perception, and our perception, in turn, influences how music “comes” to us.

Consider, for example, the phenomenon of amusia—the inability to recognize musical melodies or rhythms. For people with congenital amusia, music may sound like the screeching of a car or the banging of pots and pans. This shows how strongly our perception of music depends on the brain's ability to interpret sound signals as “musical affordances”—opportunities for interaction. The absence of these affordances radically changes the phenomenological character of musical experience, making it unpleasant and unstructured. Even at the level of perception, the listener is not a passive recipient but actively participates in the “constitution” of music.

In this context, the role of the composer can be rethought not as the creator of an “object” but as the shaper of “potentials” for interaction. The composer offers a sound structure that then activates certain motor and emotional responses in the listener. This is not merely the transmission of information but the creation of conditions for co-creation, where the listener, through their bodily and cognitive processes, completes the musical work. Klyuev also notes that music “opens ourselves to us,” but its signs “must be understood, accepted, and interpreted.” This underscores the active role of the listener in the process of making sense of music.

If the composer is not the absolute authority, and the music creation process is not just an inspired act, how does this affect the understanding of music itself? Music becomes not a frozen artifact but a dynamic process constantly recreated in the act of perception. This resonates with ideas of performativity, where the meaning of a work is not contained within it but is born in the process of its performance and reception. The composer, in this sense, becomes more of an architect of experience than a creator of a finished object.

The figure of the composer and the process of music creation find themselves at the center of a complex intertwining of philosophical, sociological, and even neurobiological questions. From the mystical conduit of divine intent to the architect of interactive experience—this evolution reflects broader changes in our understanding of art and human creativity. Music, in turn, ceases to be merely a sound object, becoming a dynamic field of interaction where every participant—from composer to listener—plays an active role. This leads us to the question of how music interacts with reality and what functions it performs beyond purely aesthetic perception.

Interaction of Music with Reality and Its Functions

If in the previous section we focused on the figure of the composer and the internal process of music creation, it is now logical to move to how this music, once created, interacts with the surrounding world. After all, music does not exist in a vacuum; it is embedded in the fabric of reality, reflecting, shaping, and even transforming it. The question of whether music is a mirror of reality or a tool for constructing new worlds lies at the heart of many philosophical discussions.

One approach considers music as a reflection of reality, a kind of sonic imprint of an era or individual experience. Composer A.S. Klyuev, reflecting on the role of music, asks: “Do you think music should create some new reality, a heavenly Jerusalem on Earth, or be a reflection of contemporary reality?” His answer, dividing “render unto God the things that are God's, and unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's,” points to duality: music can be both exalted, transcendent art and art deeply rooted in the earthly, everyday. He emphasizes that even the noise spectrum of a city, journeys in transport, or people’s shouts can form in his mind a “certain musical, meaningful construct.” This indicates that reality, with all its sounds and events, is constantly transformed into musical forms in the artist’s consciousness.

However, if music merely reflects, what is its active role? Joel Krueger proposes the model of the “musically extended mind,” arguing that music is not passively perceived but actively expands our emotional and cognitive experience [Krueger, 2014]. He writes: “I defend the model of the musically extended mind. I consider how acts of ‘musicking’ provide access to new emotional experiences otherwise unavailable” [Krueger, 2014]. Here music acts not as a reflection but as a catalyst, opening new horizons of perception and feeling. It becomes a kind of “esthetic technology” for regulating behavior, attention, and emotions [Krueger, 2014].

Music takes on some of the regulatory functions usually associated with internal human processes. When we attentively listen to music, we “offload” this cognitive function onto music, similar to how we offload memory functions onto external artifacts such as notebooks or calendar apps on smartphones [Krueger, 2014]. This “offloading” not only eases our cognitive load but enriches our affective repertoire, opening new forms of experience. Musical affordances enhance the functionality of endogenous processes, providing additional regulatory properties that the listener uses to access more subtle means of emotional refinement, attention, and expression [Krueger, 2014].

This ability of music to expand emotional experience manifests in how we speak of its impact: its affective power, vitality, and seemingly endless capacity to convey the subtlest feelings and expressions [Krueger, 2014]. Musical expressions of emotion can possess greater complexity, temporal range, subtlety, and intensity compared to their non-musical analogs. That is why, when listening to music, we often feel that we temporarily gain access to a realm of feelings and expressions that somehow transcend our everyday non-musical life.

The interaction of music with reality also manifests in its ability to shape national and cultural identity. Klyuev emphasizes the importance of the “native and universal” in musical creativity, asserting that “Russian culture is part of the universe but very peculiar.” He sees music not only as a reflection but also as a keeper of national traditions and sanctities, the forgetting of which leads to the demise of a people. This position resonates with ideas that music can be a powerful tool for preserving cultural memory and resisting global homogenization, which some critics believe leads to “mimicry” and loss of individuality.

However, not everyone agrees with this approach to music as a bearer of identity or a reflection of reality. Modernist composers, especially those associated with the Darmstadt School, often sought the autonomy of music from the external world, its self-sufficiency, and focus on internal structural principles [Heile, 2004]. For them, music should not “depict” or “reflect” but rather construct a new, internally logical sonic reality. Björn Heile notes that criticism of Darmstadt was often based on the prejudice that modernism is a “foreign import,” focused on technical innovation and rationalization of composition, which, in his view, distorts the true dialectical nature of modernism [Heile, 2004].

The functions of music in reality range from passive reflection to active formation and expansion of human experience. It can be both a mirror and a tool, both a keeper of traditions and a destroyer of foundations. The question of where the boundaries of this ability of music to interact with reality lie, and what exactly distinguishes the musical from the non-musical, remains open. After all, if, as Klyuev says, “every phenomenon of art, and music naturally too, has certain boundaries, crossing which we find ourselves already in the realm of non-music or anti-music,” then these boundaries will be the subject of our further consideration.

Boundaries of the Musical and the Non-Musical

If in the previous section we discussed how music interacts with reality and performs various functions, the question of its boundaries inevitably arises. What exactly do we consider music, and what goes beyond its limits? This question is not idle, as it touches the very essence of our understanding of art and its place in the world. Are there clear demarcation lines, or is music a fluid substance constantly changing its contours?

One approach asserts the existence of such boundaries. Alexander Klyuev, for example, believes that “every phenomenon of art, and music naturally too, has certain boundaries, crossing which we find ourselves already in the realm of non-music or anti-music, as you wish.” This position implies some internal “code” or set of criteria, compliance with which determines the belonging of a sound phenomenon to the sphere of music. If these criteria are violated, the work loses its musical status, turning into something else. What are these criteria? Melody, harmony, rhythm, form? Or something more fundamental, related to the author's intention and the listener's perception?

However, there is an opposing viewpoint according to which music is rather a process than a static object, and its boundaries are constantly shifting. Reybrouck (2025) describes music as an elusive phenomenon with sounds that disappear while sounding. He proposes to consider music as flowing sound energy that continuously modifies its substance and shape. Such an approach questions the very idea of fixed boundaries, offering instead a dynamic model where music constantly redefines itself. This is especially relevant in the context of contemporary music, where experiments with sound, noise, and silence have become commonplace.

Such discussions about the boundaries of the musical are not new. Recall, for example, John Cage, who with his piece "4′33″" challenged traditional notions of music by inviting listeners to focus on ambient sounds usually ignored. This was not mere provocation but a profound philosophical statement that music can be found everywhere if we are willing to hear it. Cage essentially expanded the boundaries of the musical to infinity, including the entire soundscape.

In this context, it is interesting to consider how music affects our perception of emotions and cognitive processes, even when it does not fit traditional definitions. Joel Krueger (Krueger, 2014) explores how music can serve as a “crutch” for emotional experience, especially for people who have difficulty expressing or experiencing emotions. He cites the example of people with Moebius syndrome, who due to facial paralysis cannot express emotions through facial expressions. These people often report a reduction or loss of emotional experience but actively use music to access certain emotional states. “The experience of both performing and listening to music seems to be a means of accessing certain emotional and affective experiences—or at least emotional and affective experiences of a certain phenomenal quality or intensity—to which they otherwise could not gain access due to their facial paralysis” [Krueger, 2014]. In this case, music does not merely entertain but performs a compensatory function, expanding the palette of available experiences.

Musical affordances—that is, the possibilities music provides for interaction—can go beyond purely aesthetic enjoyment. They can serve as tools for emotion regulation, cognitive development, and even identity formation. Krueger (Krueger, 2014) notes that music can expand our access to new emotional and affective experiences, shaping our perception and experience of time. This means that even if a sound phenomenon does not fit classical frameworks of musical art, it can still have a profound impact on a person, performing functions traditionally attributed to music.

The question of the national element in music is also closely related to the problem of boundaries. Klyuev (Klyuev, 2021) asserts that “the national exists in art,” and even if a composer consciously tries to avoid it, this is not always successful. He cites Igor Stravinsky as an example, who despite attempts to become an international European composer after his “Russian period,” still remained recognizably Russian. This indicates that some cultural codes are so deeply rooted in creativity that they cannot be completely erased. The national element becomes a kind of internal boundary defining the uniqueness of the musical language.

However, as Klyuev (Klyuev, 2021) notes, there are also “cosmopolitan composers who write good music too, and from it you cannot tell who they are.” This points to the fact that the boundaries of the national can be blurred, and musical art can transcend cultural barriers, creating universal forms of expression. In this sense, music can be both deeply rooted in a particular culture and strive for universality, erasing national and stylistic differences.

The discussion of the Darmstadt School and its influence on modernism, touched upon by Björn Heile (Heile, 2004), is also an example of the struggle to define the boundaries of the musical. Modernists sought radical renewal of the musical language, often rejecting traditional forms and harmonies. This led to music that for many listeners went beyond the familiar and was perceived as “non-music.” However, these experiments expanded the notion of what music can be, including atonality, serialism, and other innovative techniques.

The boundaries between the musical and the non-musical turn out not to be rigid barriers but rather dynamic zones constantly redefined in the process of creative search and cultural reflection. The rejection of traditional notions of music, experiments with sound, noise, and silence, as well as the awareness of the deep connection of music with human emotional and cognitive experience—all this indicates that musical art is in constant motion, expanding its limits and challenging established categories. This brings us to a critical reflection on modernism in music, which largely initiated these processes of rethinking and expanding boundaries.

Critique of Modernism in Music

If in the previous section we tried to define the fragile boundaries between the musical and the non-musical, it is now worth turning to how these boundaries were rethought and even dismantled within modernist currents, and what criticism they faced. Modernism in music, especially the post-war avant-garde, was often perceived as a radical departure from tradition, as something that led music “into the thickets where there is no place for man.” This gap between compositional experimentation and the listener was so deep that the public began to turn away from contemporary music concerts, seeing in it only a reflection of the “negative aura of life.”

Indeed, modernism, especially in its most radical manifestations, was often associated with the idea of complete renewal, rejection of the past, and the search for absolutely new forms of expression. However, such striving for novelty often led to elitism, making music inaccessible to a wide audience. Björn Heile notes that in English-language musicology there is a “rollback from modernism,” which, although based on progressive ideologies, nevertheless relies on a one-sided perception of musical modernism [Heile, 2004]. This perception, in his opinion, resembles earlier conservative attacks and often boils down to “alienation” of modernism as a “essentially continental European phenomenon” in the Anglosphere, where it is constantly suspected of being a “foreign import” [Heile, 2004].

Such criticism, however, overlooks the dialectical nature of modernism. Modernism was not a monolithic movement; it included many contradictory tendencies, from striving for rationalization and structuring to complete rejection of any rules and forms. For example, Adorno, being one of the key theorists of modernism, was simultaneously its strict critic, especially regarding mass culture and standardization. He saw in modernism the potential to resist total instrumental rationality but also recognized its internal contradictions and risks.

The problem of perceiving modernism is exacerbated by the fact that many of its ideas were distorted or simplified in the process of reception. Heile calls for fuller recognition of the “essentially dialectical nature of modernism” to avoid these misconceptions [Heile, 2004]. After all, modernism was essentially an attempt to comprehend and express the complexity and contradictions of the modern world, which itself was becoming increasingly fragmented and alienated. Composers, as Klyuev notes, at some point felt the “end of life and drama,” as if “nothing more will be said, and one can only meditate on the ruins.” This sense of an end, of course, inevitably reflected in music.

At the same time, criticism of modernism often comes from a position that itself is a product of a certain cultural and historical situation. For example, in Russia, as Klyuev notes, there is the “opinion” of great conductors who refuse to perform contemporary music, justifying this by the absence of “modern Shostakoviches.” Such a position not only hinders the development of contemporary music but also demonstrates a misunderstanding that music, like any art, constantly evolves and cannot be reduced to repeating past models.

On the other hand, some aspects of modernism, such as its elitism and detachment from the broad public, indeed deserve critical reflection. If music exists only in performance, as Klyuev asserts, and for the composer “the performance of my work is very important,” then the gap between composer and listener becomes a serious problem. Modernism, striving for the autonomy of art, sometimes lost connection with the social context and human needs.

However, as Joel Krueger shows, music has a profound ability to influence cognitive and emotional processes, even in infants [Krueger, 2014]. Musical affordances can integrate with the innate interest of infants in music and their responsiveness to it, providing a surrogate endogenous function organizing attention, behavior, and affect [Krueger, 2014]. This suggests that music, even the most complex, has the potential for deep impact on a person if it finds a response. The problem of modernism may have been not so much its complexity but the lack of bridges between this complexity and listener perception.

In this context, Philip McIntyre, studying contemporary Western popular songwriting, notes that the field of popular music is “proactive,” actively demanding novelty while maintaining relatively formal structures [McIntyre, 2008]. This indicates that even commercially oriented music requires innovation but must balance it with audience expectations and economic realities. Modernism perhaps did not always find this balance, leading to its isolation.

Criticism of modernism in music is not merely a denial of its achievements but rather an attempt to comprehend its place in music history and its influence on contemporary perception. Modernism, with all its contradictions, was an important stage in the development of musical art, which questioned many established notions about music, its functions, and its relation to the world. However, its striving for radical novelty and autonomy sometimes led to alienation from the listener, which became one of the main reasons for its criticism. The question of how to overcome this gap while preserving artistic value and innovation remains relevant for the postmodern era, which in turn offers its answers to the challenges of modernity.

Criticism and Limitations

Limitations of Empirical Data in Philosophical Theories

Many philosophical theories of music, especially those concerning its impact on individuals and society, often rely on speculative reasoning or limited empirical observations. For example, Adorno's critique of mass culture, though profound, is based on sociological studies from the mid-20th century and does not always account for the dynamics of media development and listening practices in the digital age [Adorno, 1949]. This leads to conclusions about standardization and alienation that may be overly generalized and fail to reflect the full complexity of the contemporary musical landscape, where, for instance, subcultures actively form their unique musical preferences and values. Without broader and more current empirical research covering various genres and cultural contexts, philosophical concepts risk remaining within abstract constructions unable to fully explain real processes.

Methodological Challenges in Studying Compositional Processes

Studying the composition process, as Nicholas Donin notes, faces serious methodological difficulties since traditional musicology focused on the finished work and the figure of the composer as an absolute authority [Donin, 2018]. The shift to studying the process itself requires new approaches that are often complex to implement. For example, analyzing composers' drafts and sketches, while valuable, may be limited by material availability and interpretive subjectivity. Moreover, as Donin states, “il ne suffit pas d’identifier des objets nouveaux et de combattre l’invisibilisation academique des musiques jugees autrefois illegitimes pour etre quitte de la sacralisation de la composition, il faut aussi comprendre ce que cette pratique a de specifique” (it is not enough to identify new objects and fight the academic invisibility of music formerly considered illegitimate to be free from the sacralization of composition; it is also necessary to understand what is specific about this practice) [Donin, 2018]. This means that even with data, their interpretation requires deep understanding of cognitive and creative processes, which is itself an interdisciplinary task.

The Problem of Universality and Cultural Specificity

Philosophical theories often strive for universality, attempting to identify general patterns in musical processes. However, as we have seen, cultural norms play a critically important role in shaping musical perception and response [Krueger, 2014]. What is considered “music” or “harmonious” in one culture may be entirely alien in another. For example, Klyuev emphasizes the uniqueness of Russian culture, which, while part of the universe, is very peculiar, not fully understood even by us, and therefore somewhat isolated. This cultural specificity calls into question the applicability of universal philosophical models without considering local contexts. If we do not take these differences into account, we risk imposing Western categories and concepts on non-Western musical traditions, which may lead to distorted understanding of their essence. The open question remains how to create a philosophical framework flexible enough to encompass both universal aspects of music and its deep cultural rootedness without falling into relativism.

Conclusions

• Musical perception and creation are deeply rooted in cultural context, which shapes both individual and collective reactions to sound, as confirmed by the influence of cultural norms on entrainment [Krueger, 2014].
• The role of the composer has transformed from a mystical “conduit” of divine intent to an architect of interactive experience, while social sciences critique the absolutization of the composer figure in classical music [Donin, 2018].
• Music actively interacts with reality, serving not only as its reflection but also as a powerful tool for expanding emotional and cognitive experience and for identity formation, manifested in music’s ability to “offload” cognitive functions [Krueger, 2014].
• Boundaries between the musical and the non-musical are not static but constantly redefined through experiments with sound, noise, and silence, as well as through awareness of music’s deep connection with human emotional and cognitive experience.
• Criticism of modernism in music, especially in English-language musicology, often relied on a simplified perception of it as a “foreign import,” ignoring its dialectical nature and internal contradictions [Heile, 2004].
• Contemporary musical practice faces the problem of the gap between compositional experimentation and audience expectations, requiring a search for balance between innovation and accessibility, as well as a rethinking of the listener’s role in the meaning-making process.
• How to reconcile the aspiration for universality in music with the preservation of unique national identity without falling into isolationism or mimicry remains an open question.