I sit here right now with a Gottschalk piano piece playing. He is new to me, and a delightful find, with a unique voice, as is the case with most good composers.
(I must say I had heard the name before but had not associated it with anything in particular).
His music is uplifting, enthusiastic, obviously very difficult, and I am delighted. I will listen to it until it gets boring and then go out and find more. That is a problem with me -- if I like something I tend to overdo it.
What is it? How is it this noise lifts my spirits so much? How is it other great music relaxes me or even better puts me into a quietude and spiritual mood, such that I don't want it to ever end?
Some of it is no doubt cultural -- we like what we know and are use to -- I have difficulty with the music of non-Western cultures, and mostly think it trite or repulsive. I have a similar view with most popular Western music, mainly because of its crassness and triteness and lack of any effort at subtlety or more than superficial beauty.
(Not all of it -- as with most matters of taste there are a lot of exceptions).
Still, as a kid I liked certain compositions the first I heard them, and remember going to the library and putting on the earphones to hear them over and over. So I have to think there is something inherent.
The thing is we don't hear music, we experience it (if we are really listening). It has effects on us that go beyond anything physical or brainy. It is entirely of the mind; the brain gives the sound qualia to the mind and the mind is moved by it and enjoys it and is hooked on it. It has to be seen as part of the great mystery of sentience.
The same thing of course applies to all those things we call art.
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