Beauty, Reason, and Power

A forward to a volume such as this provides a more informal forum to set the stage for what follows. In this case, a few thoughts on why I am taking this approach, and what I might hope to accomplish, are perhaps in order. My overarching purpose in undertaking this endeavor has been to present an alternative to conventional thinking in the field of music education. Whether progressive, pragmatic, postmodern, poststructural, or guided by critical social theory, I have never been satisfied with the various academic approaches to curriculum theory current in the academy. Yet as a student I was never exposed in my classes to any substantive traditionalist alternatives—either at the elite liberal arts school I attended as an undergraduate, or at the reputable graduate institutions I attended. My search for alternate voices was thus, by necessity, a process of self-education. I was fortunate, however, to have truly liberal professors who valued free speech and free inquiry. So while at times I felt the academic hostility common to traditionalist thought in higher education, for the most part I had just enough freedom to get into trouble.

One of the aims of this book, then, is to present a traditionalist approach to music education in a field where similar writings are hard to find. The academic field of the philosophy of music education—admittedly a narrow specialization within an already socially marginalized discipline—has tended to be dominated by ideas emanating from our sister discipline of curriculum theory, particularly in terms of Critical Pedagogy, postmodernism, and poststructuralism. In my own career I have found resistance to these approaches to be an ethical imperative, both in theory and practice. Explaining why requires turning to areas of philosophy outside the periphery of curriculum theory. I thus have examined a diverse group of writers—not all of whom would agree with my premises, methods, or conclusions—in hopes of calling attention to alternate approaches to framing our discipline, particularly in relation to the basic anthropological question of what it means to be human. For example, there has been occasional mention of the work of Charles Taylor in music education research, specifically in relationship to questions of religion in contemporary society. His broader claims regarding the nature of human identity and the expressive individual “self,” however, have not been investigated in detail. Similarly, the moral philosophy of Alasdair MacIntyre, or the sociology of Philip Rieff are extraordinarily significant in understanding the historically contingent and philosophically contestable assumptions undergirding significant swaths of modern academic discourse. Other authors lesser known in education circles can also provide significant insight: the anti-fascist writings of Augusto Del Noce, or the insights of survivors of eastern European communism such as Ryszard Legutko, Leszek Kołakowski, or Czesław Miłosz. These writers and many others will make an occasional appearance over the course of this book. My hope is that bringing more voices to the table will enrich the conversation as a whole, regardless of whether one agrees either with any of the authors I draw from, or with my own conclusions more broadly.

As with most academic books, I have immense gratitude for the many eyes and ears that have provided valuable input at significant points in the writing process. Several chapters in this volume began their life as conference presentations, and the feedback I received from various colleagues on these talks was extremely helpful in honing my thoughts. The anonymous peer review I received through the publication process was similarly helpful, even—or perhaps especially—when sharply critical. I owe special thanks to my colleague Stephen Parrish, professor of philosophy (now emeritus) at Concordia University whose office was immediately adjacent to my own for the last three years. One of the beautiful things about working at a liberal arts institution is the relationships with colleagues outside our department; Stephen was willing to read my manuscript in its entirety to make sure I was not making any embarrassing factual errors on the philosophical front and providing helpful feedback along the way. I am similarly grateful to Fiona Evison, a doctoral student at Western University in Ontario. Following a gracious invitation to present the first three chapters of this book in a doctoral seminar led by Paul Woodford, Fiona pointed me in the direction of Nicholas Wolterstorff’s Art Rethought. This in turn helped me resolve several significant roadblocks in the second half of the book, without which my ultimate conclusions would have been much weaker. I am also deeply grateful and indebted to Dani Green, Acquisitions Editor in Education at Peter Lang Publishing, for supporting the publication of this book, and for the entire team at Peter Lang for guiding the manuscript through the final stages of preparation and publication.