Music and Chess

Nora and I were fortunate enough to see a performance by Al Stewart last week.  For those of you who do not remember Stewart, his popular songs were Year of the Cat, Time Passages, and On the Border (my favorite).  We had seen him perform many years ago, at a nightclub in Philly, I think, although the memory has faded over the years.  At last week's concert, Stewart played all the favorites, plus some more recent tunes.  He was accompanied by the extremely talented Marc Macisso and his current back up group The Empty Pockets. In addition to the wonderful music, Stewart prefaced every song with a story, often about the writing or inspiration of the song, or sometimes just as a reflection of the times in which it was penned. And, while there were moments when Macisso rocked out on the sax or flute, or the lead guitar player let loose on his electric guitar, most of the enjoyment emanated from Stewart, his voice, his stories, his songs, and the moods they inspired, reflective, nostalgic, folksy.  Like listening to an old friend recount shared, fond memories.

As the crowd made its slow departure from the theater, Nora and I waited a bit in our seats and discussed how being a folk lyricist seemed the perfect job for Al Stewart.  Was it coincidence that he seemed to have found the job in life that suited him best, or were we seeing the results of years of learning and refining his craft that made the performance seem so natural, as if watching a bird take flight and knowing that flying is the natural activity for such a creature?

I am continuing my reading of the Winter Edition of Lapham's Quarterly, called States of Mind.  I recently read an excerpt from "The Chess Master and the Computer", by Garry Kasparaov.  In the essay, Kasparov recounts what he terms the golden years of man vs machine in the realm of chess, 1994 to 2004.  It was during that time when the computer progressed from too weak to too strong in its ability (its programmed ability) to play chess.  For Kasparov, those years and those matches were not unlike the progress one's child might make as a father taught her to play chess.  At first, father wins every time, but then there is a time period where the matches are close and interesting as the child learns from her mistakes.  In this case, the child was as much the programmers who uploaded the chess playing algorithms as the computer, but Kasparov seems to indicate that he knew it was inevitable that the computer would eventually be the better player, just as if often the case that the child bests the parent over time.

Kasparov concludes this particular part of the book by recounting how the new challenge in chess is to combine the sheer number crunching power of the computer with the ability of the grandmaster, against other such teams.  In other words, make use of the best of both worlds.  It is that kind of thinking that, were it to be applied to the problems of the day, might make a difference in addressing those problems.

There are some who thing that music and chess are the best expressions of the two parts of our brains.  And further, that these skills, when performed at the highest levels, share a common thread; precision.  I decided to link these subjects for a different reason, however.  Like Al Stewart, Garry Kasparov seems to have found the perfect occupation for his talents.  This is not to say that other occupations for either man may have also matched their skills.  During the concert, Stewart joked that his job might soon be vacant, referring, I assume to the thought that he couldn't perform forever.  He indicated to us that he thought that the best folk lyricists might be found teaching history as he considered himself as much a historian as a song writer, or perhaps both at the same time.  Perhaps Kasparov would have found complete job satisfaction from being a physicist, or actuary.

Thinking about this takes me back to high school and those aptitude tests that we all were subjected to. Certainly, there was real science at work, just as there is some validity to using a dating service that evaluates likes and dislikes and matches accordingly.  The problem with high school aptitude tests may not have been the results but the audience.  Why would a teenager listen to any adult about the results of a test that tells him that he should be an accountant?  Certainly, I hold no value judgement against accountants, in fact I like numbers as much or more as the next guy.  But who wants to hear that assessment, even if accurate, when the whole world is out there, full of promise and excitement and the unknown.  Sure, as we reflect on our lives and realize that being in retail or fast food or working an assembly line or any of the other jobs that we all have done, and perhaps still do, to pay the bills, we might wish to vault back in time to our teenage selves and extol the virtues of accounting in hopes of avoiding the drudgery and boredom of our future lives.

Perhaps then, we might try the best of both worlds for our youth as we assist them in discovering their strengths and pursuing the opportunities that will be presented them.  Give them those silly aptitude tests, but present the findings with the idea that a job pays the bills, and we all must take the occasional job to survive in the world, but an occupation should be a reflection of your life.  It is OK to use an aptitude to find the occasional job, but a much bigger reward, a more satisfying life will result in finding an occupation that reflects your being.          

Perhaps if we spent more time seeking satisfaction in our daily lives, including our work, we might be in less need of distractions, especially those that lead to harmful addictions or rage or depression.  

Life satisfaction, priceless.