Questions, questions, questions

In a thoughtful comment to my introductory post, jlderfner argues that the questions about music and work and class (and and and) may become more complicated as this project progresses. And he's right. One of the dangers of unrolling this project in blog form is exposing the incompleteness of the project's parameters, or the narrowness of my focus (I've only got ten weeks, at least for this funded part). I'm hoping, however, that if the smart people (meaning any of you who take the time to contribute to the conversation) keep jabbing me with comments, more questions will be exposed, and my research will be better.

Work vs. Leisure

As I begin this project, my desk is the table on my front porch. My dog sits, mostly quietly, beside me; planters are blooming color and lushness, the breeze is pleasant, my coffee is hot. I am being funded to research: to read, to write, to surf the net, to think. For the next ten weeks I will be exploring the role of the blogosphere on arts criticism in our society (you can learn more by reading a synopsis of my funding proposal here). Today, as I prepare to think about the intersection of technology, traditional media, music, society, and consumers of art, I'm interruped (read: annoyed) by the radio from a car parked in front of my home. It's blasting some kind of heavy metal rock music, disturbing my peace, and more importantly, my Work. My very important work.

Across the street from my condo is a new building project; the source of the loud music is from the car of a construction guy, on break (at 9:30am he was already on break, having arrived for work around 6; I was just settling in to my aforementioned important work).

Music is a leisure time activity, available to all, free. But we pay, depending on our interest and ability to do so: for opera tickets, or subscriptions to the symphony; for large venue rock concerts, weekend bluegrass festivals, mp3 downloads, public radio memberships, and on and on. For some particularly privileged few, music can be work.

Not for the painter/bricklayer/taper/carpenter in the truck in front of my place, though. Music for him is escape from the work of the day (some might call it real work). A discussion of the place of music criticism in our society can't really take place without thinking about class and power and yes, privilege. Your thoughts on this, and related topics, are most welcome. Everyone's a critic only if everyone joins in.