Jens F. Laurson and George A. Pieler 03.04.08, 1:03 PM ET
The New York Philharmonic's decision to play in North Korea's capital, Pyongyang, provoked commentary--both positive and negative--with a decidedly excited ring to it. The arguments ran the gamut from the critics calling treason to the more optimistic rhapsodizing about the cultural exchange ushering in an age of strawberry sundaes and hugs between the Kim Jong Il dictatorship and the U.S.
We wrote with cautious optimism about the concept but were critical of the execution. Watching the concert, streamed live over the Internet, put all the excitement into perspective. Yes, the concert ideally could have sent a trenchant, uplifting political message and not just a musical one. But that prospect proved unrealistic.
For all the political humdrum surrounding this unprecedented event, the concert was, in the end, just a concert. A concert that never was going to feed starving North Koreans or free the imprisoned political dissidents and kidnapped South Koreans. A concert that never promised to undermine the rule of a decadent and cultish ruler, whose indifference to the sufferings of his people speak louder to the rest of the world than the Philharmonic's performance of Beethoven's overture to "Fidelio" ever could.
Perhaps just seeing North Koreans, privileged members of the elite though they must have been, moved by the slow movement of the "New World Symphony," roused by Bizet's "Farandole" (the first of three encores) or waving the Philharmonic goodbye as they left the stage (knowing--as they must have--that they would not likely see them again, being stuck in their country, privileged or not) was moving.
The few unmoved, grim youngsters were no more disturbing than young Americans similarly unmoved by great cultural achievements. But there must have been many among the cultural elite present who, prior to the concert, knew America only or largely from the cartoonish, vile distortions of North Korean state propaganda. For some of them, we may hope, it must have been truly eye- and perhaps heart-opening to see the alleged enemy bringing, instead of death and devastation (as frequently depicted in North Korean propaganda), Dvo??ák.
The Philharmonic cannot control the propaganda or spin that North Korea has put on this event. Nor could the orchestra control what any audience member may have thought or felt. All the musicians could do was play their hearts out and try to touch the audience through the music, which they did in stride. Some tears were seen in the audience during an encore performance of a Korean folk song, and the Philharmonic played with unusual emotional intensity.
The Philharmonic played music that appealed more to the emotions than the intellect--Dvo??ák, not Shostakovich--which was appropriate for the (realistic) goal of reaching a few hearts and minds. In fact, it might well be that the beauty of a slow movement of a Mozart piano concerto says more about our culture than the most consciously composed music depicting or demanding freedom.
So, it seems, did the insouciance of George Gershwin's "An American in Paris," the hit of the show. Of course it would be nice to have everything, but if one must choose, choose beauty. It is needed: The Associated Press reported, quoting a defector to South Korea, that North Koreans are banned from hearing any post-1900 Western music, much of which is quite beautiful.
Exchanges like this, if nothing else, at least put a human face (or 120, as it were) on what remains otherwise a "concept." The faces of the Philharmonic contained many distinctly Asian features, showing the diversity that makes America so unique. It may still be easy for North Korea to demonize America--and Americans--in isolation, but less easy for anyone who may have made a personal connection through this event or through the associated visits to schools and forums. Even if these were "coordinated" or staged events, let's hope they become more real by the next visit. Maybe even by Eric Clapton's visit.
Sadly, in such a tightly shut society there is no way to be certain how effectively the Philharmonic did reach North Koreans via state TV and radio, as promised by the regime. With Pyongyang's shoddy electric grid and limited access to consumer electronics, we do not know whether this event reached the masses. Whatever the case, it is not too late for North Korea to re-broadcast the concert on state radio and TV, over and over.
More North Korean faces smiling to music made by Americans won't end the nuclear impasse, but they are a welcome enough step in the right direction.
Jens F. Laurson is Editor-in-Chief of the International Affairs Forum and Critic-at-Large for WETA-FM 90.9. George A. Pieler is Senior Fellow with the Institute for Policy.
