The Mind's Eye and Imagery in Music

The Mind’s Eye and Imagery in Music

by Mizuho Yoshimune

The human mind is a truly remarkable phenomenon. As a very visual thinker, I predominantly use mental images to recall past memories or information, imagine how future prospective outcomes would play out, and spell difficult words by seeing the word as an image at the top of my mind. Only until recently, I had assumed that this so-called “mind’s eye” was present in everyone – most likely to varying degrees, but present nonetheless. So it was to my complete surprise and fascination when I came across the June 8th, 2021 article in The New York Times regarding aphantasia, on those who do not have the “mind’s eye.”

As a pianist, this brought me to think of the different ways we perceive music, since much of the daily practice we do as musicians involves working to get our playing closer to the ideal image (the aural, emotional, and narrative) that we hold in our minds and ears. In Scriabin’s Sonata No.2, for example, I imagine and hear it as a narrative of a person experiencing watching the ocean waves at nighttime, which range from the gentle lapping of the water on the shore, to the more dramatic and at times turbulent currents that emerge upward from the deepest and darkest depths of the ocean floor. Along with the imagery of the ocean’s water changing throughout the piece, so do the emotions and characteristics – ranging from nostalgia, agitation, wistfulness, nobleness, and triumph. All of this, we hope, ultimately translates into the sound and the musical experience for the listener and performer alike.

In a more narrative sense, in the third movement of Beethoven’s “Les Adieux” Sonata, the grand B-flat dominant 7th followed by the rapid upward sixteenths I imagine to be like two best friends or family members finally reuniting after a very difficult and lengthy time apart, running towards each other, smiles stretching from one ear to the other, arms wide open for embrace, and talking in an excited rush to catch up on everything at once. (The more historical version would probably be Beethoven reuniting with Archduke Rudolph, after the archduke was forced to flee Vienna upon Napoleon and his French army’s attack on the city in 1809.) Music conveys our emotions, and our emotions convey not only our life experiences, but also those we may not have personally experienced yet but are nonetheless common to humanity today and since the beginning of mankind.

Over the course of more than ten summers of participating in various masterclasses and festivals, it has always been fascinating and a treasured experience to hear a wide range of piano repertoire being performed, taught, and interpreted in equally numerous ways and perspectives. Some, I noticed, use largely imagery or a storytelling narrative to make the music come more alive and to make the emotional translation of the notes on the score more palpable. On the other hand, some take a less “abstract” approach, or perhaps a more “fact-based,” analytic approach. Many also take a combination of both approaches to varying degrees on the spectrum. Because of this, working on the same piece with different pianists is one of the greatest learning experiences, as one receives a look into a treasure trove of various minds, artistry, and musical beliefs — each conveyed and taught with equal conviction, dedication, and love for the music. While I am not certain what percentage of my musician friends (and non-musician friends) are more “mind’s-eye” driven or not, it would be fascinating to hear more about how the presence or absence of the mind’s-eye creates varying perceptions of music and approaches to the art. After all, this whole time our own friends and colleagues may have been hearing or seeing music and imagery in a completely different way than we could have ever imagined!