“Taste is not only a part and index of morality, it is the only morality. The first, and last, and closest trial question to any living creature is, “What do you like?” Tell me what you like and I’ll tell you who you are … It is not an indifferent nor optional thing whether we love this or that; but it is just the vital function of all our being. What we like determines what we are, and is the sign of what we are; to teach taste is inevitably to form character.” – John Ruskin, 1864, Traffic

Ruth Reichl’s recollections brought back to mind a few thoughts by Virgil Thomson, the American composer who was well known for his music criticism in The New York Herald Tribune during the 1940s and 1950s, and John Ruskin, an English philosopher and art critic of the nineteenth century who probably would have easily found himself quite at home with the practice of blogging. Hence, the quote that starts this portion of this two-part post.

Interestingly enough, the Ruskin quote, which comes from his Traffic lecture of 1864, often is truncated to “Taste is the only morality … Tell me what you like and I’ll tell you who you are,” a sort of updated version of Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin’s famed quotation from The Philosophy of Taste published in 1825 (Tell me what you eat and I’ll tell you what you are.”)

Ruskin’s line in question, much like the majority of his writings and pronouncements, was intended to subjugate class distinctions and perceptions and to call out the hypocritical Philistinism of class-conscious individuals. In other words, Ruskin was saying that good art could come from a good man in a good society. A leading Aesthete, he was one of the earliest promulgators of the Arts and Crafts Movement, which emerged in the 19th century and continues today.

Meanwhile, Virgil Thomson, nearly a century later, was adamant that many artistic organizations – even most notably the New York Philharmonic and other giants of the musical establishment – had it wrong when it came to intellectual audiences. Thomson believed that the intellectual audience was a difficult group to manipulate, even though it had no visible organization. Intellectuals could not be placed in neat demographic categories because they shared independent tastes in fashion, art, and appearance.

Listeners who were comfortably familiar with famous performers playing famous music, on the other hand, characterized the mass public. Yet, Thomson did not fault these audience members for their hesitation to try modern music: “I am more inclined to believe, from long acquaintance with all sorts of musical publics, that it is management which dislikes novelty and everything else that interferes with standardization. I suspect that management’s design is toward conditioning the mass public to believe that it dislikes novelty.”

Thomson believed that the professional musical world could not feel safe with the intellectual audience. He characterized the mass public as being easily satisfied so orchestral managers could take advantage of their audience’s good nature. He wrote in 1950: “The intellectuals are more demanding and refuse to be spoon fed. That is why, as a musician, I value the intellectual element in audiences.”

These are not merely academic philosophical expressions about taste. I am certainly impressed by the timelessness of these historical observations and I see value and application right here in Salt Lake City.

After being here seven years, I have begun to notice a rather significant transformative trend emerge here – more so than in the days immediately preceding and following the Winter Olympics of 2002. There were a lot of hopeful predictions then about the impact that would resonate long after tens of thousands of international visitors left this city. More than a few businesses focused their energies on short-term bottom-line largesse and by the hot, summer days just four months after the closing ceremonies many of those businesses closed, having failed the test of sustainability.

Meanwhile, the city’s convention traffic has sustained its momentum and a wave of smarter, ambitious business developers and owners from a variety of specialized and niche industries has begun to make a sizable impact upon the city’s economic scene.

Perhaps our biggest challenge at the moment – represented in some of the issues already referenced in this blog – is to ensure that a good trend will continue and not be easily squelched if we allow ourselves to be enchanted or influenced by status quo leadership that eschews progressive, cultural and creative independence.

Most importantly, I am seeing some of our most vibrant and promising entrepreneurs here in Salt Lake City who embody those sensitivities and fundamental ideals as expressed by such diverse individuals as Reichl, Ruskin, Thomson and others. They do not fit neatly in expected demographics of income, education, geographical or religious background, fashion conformity, or dictated styles of appearance. In music, art, photography, fashion, cuisine, and business, these are not individuals who represent an elite or modest subculture. Rather, much in the same way that an influential minority places great value on literature and poetry as an indispensable part of the larger cultural discourse, these individuals are defining a dedicated, intensely passionate culture of excellence that will unmistakably be the hallmark of the newly emerging Salt Lake City character. And, readers, the Selective Echo will continue to chronicle this remarkable transformation.