Perception

Perception is a fascinating phenomenon, revealing the richness and beauty of the world to us in countless different ways. It is, however, subjective. Each person feels and experiences things differently, which can lead to misunderstandings, yet it also allows us to look at the world from new angles and to widen our own perception. To one person, a chair may simply be a comfortable place to sit, to a child it might be a mountain waiting to be climbed, and to an artist a source of inspiration.

There are many ways to show this subjectivity. One is the number nine, which, depending on where you stand, may look like a six. Or a book that has a red cover on one side and a blue cover on the other. Depending on which side you stand on, your perception will be different from that of the person on the opposite side.

Nevertheless, we humans tend to insist on being right, and only rarely do we change our perspective or ask ourselves why the other person holds a certain view. And even though I know this, I still catch myself often enough doing someone an injustice by not questioning their perspective. Sometimes I also fail to notice quickly enough that a conflict has arisen simply from differing perceptions. This happens even though people often tell me I seem as if I could “read” others. I would not put it that way. I merely tend to look closely at the person in front of me. If my perception tells me I should be careful, I avoid them and do not form a deep bond.

It is, in truth, more a matter of listening to my gut feeling. I could not even say why I feel as I do. It is simply my subjective instinct that draws me towards some people and keeps me away from others. For this very reason I have never really had much interest in public figures, at least not in the sense of wanting to judge their character, especially when it comes to authors and musicians whose work I engage with, because for me it is almost impossible to get a sense of them.

But to return to the topic. Precisely because perception is so subjective, I like to hear how others experience something or what it was like for them. That might be the source of inspiration they are talking about, a role an actor has to grow into, or the choice of a song brought onto the stage. What moved the artist to do this particular thing in just this way? Why choose this instrument or that arrangement? Why does a writer choose this topic and not another?

Of course, there is not always a single “right” answer. Especially in writing, it can simply be what came to mind at that moment. Inspiration might arise from a dream, bringing with it parts of a story that are already there in the mind. Or it may be recurring themes that simply come naturally or hold a particular fascination. What I am saying here is, from my side, rather on the surface.

Stephen King, for instance, writes a great deal about horror and fear in his earlier works. He often uses supernatural beings in his novels, giving fear a face. Yet he emphasizes again and again that his books are not only horror stories, but that they also grapple with subjects that matter to him, such as America, its society and its history. I go into more detail about the author and the collection “Night Shift” in a separate part of this website, as I was asked to read the book and share my thoughts on it.

(This will take a little while yet, but I have not forgotten.)

When it comes to other arts I am less familiar with, such as music, I am especially interested in the “how”. The process of creating music is intriguing. Where do decisions for certain instruments come from, and what do they achieve?

For their effect is beyond dispute. It is always striking to see how music works on us, even if we pay no attention to the lyrics or do not understand the language at all. I found the background information on “Epic: The Musical” (a musical adaptation of Homer’s “Odyssey”) by Jorge Rivera‑Herrans, for example, very interesting, because he explains why he assigned particular instruments to certain characters, or how there can be background voices in moments when, strictly speaking, no other figures should be present. He also talks about how closely he followed the original work and where he chose to deviate from it – and why.

(If you like musicals, I can truly recommend it, and the “Odyssey” itself is well worth reading too.)

So how can we, especially in the arts, whether in music or in writing, make use of perception, and do things always have the same effect on everyone, regardless of what they have lived through and remember? Let us stay with “Epic” and take the song “Love in Paradise” by Calypso (and Odysseus).

To sketch the narrative frame briefly: Calypso is a nymph who lives on the island of Ogygia. After Zeus destroys Odysseus’ fleet, he is shipwrecked there. Calypso takes him in and cares for him. She keeps him on the island for seven years, hoping he will fall in love with her, and offers him immortality. In the “Odyssey”, Calypso is described as a beautiful and powerful nymph, intelligent and sensitive. She embodies both seduction and temptation and reflects the double standards of the gods in the poem.

How is her music presented in “Epic”? A tropical, joyful atmosphere is created, musically through the instruments, such as handpans, and through the rhythm. At the beginning you can hear the sound of waves and gulls, which soon fade into the background, almost drowned out by the music. The rhythm of the vocals creates, for me, a figure who is likeable, bright, relaxed, perhaps even a little overexcited. Calypso, who is hardly shaken by anything Odysseus says. How do you perceive Calypso in this song?

We can say, then, that although perception is subjective, there are aspects that are more or less universal and are perceived similarly by most people. In this case, a tropical atmosphere, which is likely to evoke a pleasant feeling in many, cheerful music with a clear, bright voice and a lively rhythm. Nevertheless, we should remember that perception still depends strongly on personal experience, cultural background and individual differences.