2,958 research outputs found
Introduction to Psychology
Introduction to Psychology is a modified version of Psychology 2e - OpenStax
ΠΡΠ·ΠΈΠΊΠΎΠ»ΠΎΠ³ΠΈΡΠ° / Musicology (34 I/2023)
ΠΠ±Π΅Π»Π΅ΠΆΠ°Π²Π°ΡΠ΅ ΠΏΠΎΠ»Π° Π²Π΅ΠΊΠ° ΠΎΠ΄ ΠΊΠ°Π΄Π° ΡΠ΅ ΠΏΡΠ΅ΠΌΠΈΠ½ΡΠΎ ΠΠ³ΠΎΡ Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π²ΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΈ (1882β1971) ΠΏΡΠΎΡΠ΅ΠΊΠ»ΠΎ ΡΠ΅ Ρ ΡΠ΅Π½ΡΠΈ ΠΏΠ°Π½Π΄Π΅ΠΌΠΈΡΠ΅ ΠΊΠΎΠ²ΠΈΠ΄Π°, ΠΏΠ° ΡΠ΅ Π½Π°ΡΡΠ½ΠΎ ΡΠ°Π·ΠΌΠ°ΡΡΠ°ΡΠ΅ ΠΏΠΎΠ΄ΡΡΠ°ΠΊΠ½ΡΡΠΎ ΡΠΎΠΌ Π³ΠΎΠ΄ΠΈΡΡΠΈΡΠΎΠΌ ΠΏΡΠΎΠ΄ΡΠΆΠΈΠ»ΠΎ. Π’Π°ΠΊΠΎ ΡΠ΅ ΡΠ΅ΠΌΡ ΠΏΡΠΈΠ΄ΡΡΠΆΡΡΠ΅ ΠΈ ΠΠ»Π°Π²Π½Π° ΡΠ΅ΠΌΠ° Ρ Π½ΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠΌ Π±ΡΠΎΡΡ ΠΡΠ·ΠΈΠΊΠΎΠ»ΠΎΠ³ΠΈΡΠ΅ (34), Ρ Π½ΠΈΠ·ΠΎΠΌ ΡΡΡΠ΄ΠΈΡΠ° ΠΏΠΎΡΠ²Π΅ΡΠ΅Π½ΠΈΡ
Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π²ΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΎΠΌ, ΠΊΠΎΡΠ΅ ΠΏΠΎΡΠΈΡΡ ΠΈΠ· ΠΈΠ·Π»Π°Π³Π°ΡΠ° Π½Π° Π‘ΡΡΠ΄ΠΈΡΡΠΊΠΎΠΌ Π΄Π°Π½Ρ ΠΎΡΠ³Π°Π½ΠΈΠ·ΠΎΠ²Π°Π½ΠΎΠΌ 2021. Π³ΠΎΠ΄ΠΈΠ½Π΅ Π½Π° ΠΠ΄ΡΠ΅ΠΊΡ Π·Π° ΠΌΡΠ·ΠΈΡΠΊΠ΅ ΡΡΡΠ΄ΠΈΡΠ΅ ΠΠ°ΡΠΈΠΎΠ½Π°Π»Π½ΠΎΠ³ ΠΈ ΠΠ°ΠΏΠΎΠ΄ΠΈΡΡΡΠΈΡΠ°ΡΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠ³ ΡΠ½ΠΈΠ²Π΅ΡΠ·ΠΈΡΠ΅ΡΠ° Ρ ΠΡΠΈΠ½ΠΈ. ΠΠ°ΡΡΡΠΏΡΠ΅Π½Π΅ ΡΠ΅ΠΌΠ΅ ΠΏΠΎΠΊΡΠΈΠ²Π°ΡΡ ΡΠΈΡΠΎΠΊ ΡΠΏΠ΅ΠΊΡΠ°Ρ ΠΏΡΠΎΠ±Π»Π΅ΠΌΠ°ΡΠΈΠΊΠ΅ Ρ Π²Π΅Π·ΠΈ ΡΠ° ΡΠ²ΠΈΠΌ ΡΡΠΈΠΌΠ° ΡΠ°Π·Π°ΠΌΠ° ΡΡΠ²Π°ΡΠ°Π»Π°ΡΡΠ²Π° Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π²ΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΎΠ³ (ΡΡΡΠΊΠ°, Π½Π΅ΠΎΠΊΠ»Π°ΡΠΈΡΠ½Π° ΠΈ ΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΡΠ°Π»Π½Π°), ΡΠΊΡΡΡΡΡΡΡΠΈ ΠΏΡΠΈ ΡΠΎΠΌΠ΅ ΠΈ ΠΏΠΈΡΠ°ΡΠ° Π΅ΡΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΠΊΠ΅, ΠΊΠ°ΠΎ ΠΈ ΡΡΠΈΡΠ°ΡΠ° ΠΈ ΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΠΏΡΠΈΡΠ΅ ΡΠ΅Π³ΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠ³ Π΄Π΅Π»Π°.
Π‘ΡΠ°ΠΌΠ°ΡΠΈΡ ΠΠΎΡ
ΠΈΠΎΡ ΠΈΠ·Π½ΠΎΠ²Π° ΠΎΡΠ²Π°ΡΠ° ΠΏΠΈΡΠ°ΡΠ΅ Π²Π΅Π·Π΅ Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π²ΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΎΠ³ Ρ ΡΡΡΠΊΠΈΠΌ ΡΠΎΠ»ΠΊΠ»ΠΎΡΠΎΠΌ, ΠΊΠΎΠ½ΡΠ΅ΠΊΡΡΡΠ°Π»ΠΈΠ·ΡΡΡΡΠΈ Π΄Π΅Π»Π° ΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠ³ ΠΊΠΎΠΌΠΏΠΎΠ·ΠΈΡΠΎΡΠ° ΠΈΠ· ΡΠ°ΠΊΠΎΠ·Π²Π°Π½ΠΎΠ³ βΡΡΡΠΊΠΎΠ³β ΠΏΠ΅ΡΠΈΠΎΠ΄Π° Ρ ΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅Π½ΡΠ°ΠΌΠ° Π½Π° ΠΈΡΡΠΎΡΠΈΡΠ°Ρ ΡΡΡΠΊΠ΅ ΡΠΎΠ»ΠΊΠ»ΠΎΡΠΈΡΡΠΈΠΊΠ΅. ΠΠΎΡ
ΠΈΠΎΡ Π·Π°ΠΊΡΡΡΡΡΠ΅ Π΄Π° ΡΠ΅ Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π²ΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΈ ΠΏΡΠ°ΡΠΈΠΎ ΠΏΡΡ ΡΠ²ΠΎΡΠΈΡ
ΠΏΡΠ΅ΡΡ
ΠΎΠ΄Π½ΠΈΠΊΠ° ΠΈΠ· 19. Π²Π΅ΠΊΠ° (ΠΠ»ΠΈΠ½ΠΊΠ° ΠΈ ΠΠ΅ΡΠΎΡΠΈΡΠ°) Ρ ΡΠΏΠΎΡΡΠ΅Π±ΠΈ ΡΠΎΠ»ΠΊΠ»ΠΎΡΠ½ΠΈΡ
ΠΈΠ·Π²ΠΎΡΠ° Π·Π° ΡΠ²ΠΎΡΠ΅ ΠΊΠΎΠΌΠΏΠΎΠ·ΠΈΡΠΈΡΠ΅, Π°Π»ΠΈ, Π·Π° ΡΠ°Π·Π»ΠΈΠΊΡ ΠΎΠ΄ ΡΠΈΡ
, Π½ΠΈΡΠ΅ ΠΊΠΎΡΠΈΡΡΠΈΠΎ ΡΡΡΠ΄ΠΈΡΠ΅ Π½Π°ΡΡΠ°ΡΠ°Π»Π΅ Ρ ΡΠ΅Π³ΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠΌ Π²ΡΠ΅ΠΌΠ΅Π½Ρ; ΡΡΠΎΠ³Π°, Π½ΠΈΡΠ΅ ΡΠ΅ ΡΠΏΡΡΡΠΈΠΎ Ρ Π΅ΠΊΡΡΠ΅Π½Π·ΠΈΠ²Π½Ρ ΠΈ Π΄ΡΠ±ΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΡ ΠΏΡΠ΅ΡΡΠ°Π³Ρ ΠΏΠΎΡΡΠΎΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΡ
ΠΈΠ·Π²ΠΎΡΠ° ΠΎ ΡΡΡΠΊΠΎΠΌ ΡΠΎΠ»ΠΊΠ»ΠΎΡΡ, Π²Π΅Ρ ΡΠ΅ ΡΠΌΠ΅ΡΡΠΎ ΡΠΎΠ³Π° ΠΎΡΠ»Π°ΡΠ°ΠΎ Π½Π° ΠΏΡΠΎΠ²Π΅ΡΠ΅Π½Π΅ ΠΈΠ·Π²ΠΎΡΠ΅ ΠΈ ΡΡΡΠ΄ΠΈΡΠ΅ ΠΈΠ· 19. Π²Π΅ΠΊΠ°. Π§Π»Π°Π½Π°ΠΊ ΠΠ²Π°Π½Π° ΠΡΠ΄ΠΈΡΠ° ΠΎΡΠ²Π΅ΡΡΠ°Π²Π° Π΄Π΅ΠΎ ΡΡΠ²Π°ΡΠ°Π»Π°ΡΡΠ²Π° Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π²ΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΎΠ³ Ρ ΡΠΎΠΊΡΡΠΎΠΌ Π½Π° ΡΠ΅Π³ΠΎΠ²Π° Π΄ΡΡ
ΠΎΠ²Π½Π° Π΄Π΅Π»Π° ΠΈΠ· ΠΏΠ΅ΡΡΠΏΠ΅ΠΊΡΠΈΠ²Π΅ ΡΠ΅Π³ΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠ³ ΠΏΠΎΠ·Π½Π°Π²Π°ΡΠ° ΡΠΈΠ»ΠΎΠ·ΠΎΡΠΈΡΠ΅ ΠΠ°ΠΊΠ° ΠΠ°ΡΠΈΡΠ΅Π½Π°, Π° Ρ ΠΊΠΎΠ½ΡΠ΅ΠΊΡΡΡ ΡΠΈΠ»ΠΎΠ·ΠΎΡΡΠΊΠΈΡ
ΠΏΠΎΡΡΠ΅ΡΠ° Ρ ΠΌΠ΅ΡΡΡΠ°ΡΠ½ΠΎΡ Π€ΡΠ°Π½ΡΡΡΠΊΠΎΡ. ΠΡΠ΄ΠΈ ΠΎΠ±ΡΠ°ΡΠ° ΠΏΠΎΡΠ΅Π±Π½Ρ ΠΏΠ°ΠΆΡΡ Π½Π° ΡΠΎ ΠΊΠ°ΠΊΠΎ Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π²ΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΈ ΠΈΠ½ΡΠ΅ΡΠΏΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΡΠ° ΠΠ°ΡΠΈΡΠ΅Π½ΠΎΠ²Ρ ΠΈΠ΄Π΅ΡΡ homo faber-a, βΡΠΎΠ²Π΅ΠΊΠ°-ΡΠ²ΠΎΡΡΠ°β. ΠΡΡΠΎΠ²ΡΠ΅ΠΌΠ΅Π½ΠΎ, ΠΎΠ½ Π½Π΅ Π·Π°Π½Π΅ΠΌΠ°ΡΡΡΠ΅ ΠΊΠΎΠΌΠΏΠΎΠ·ΠΈΡΠΎΡΠΎΠ²ΠΎ ΡΡΡΠΊΠΎ ΠΏΠΎΡΠ΅ΠΊΠ»ΠΎ, Π·Π°ΠΊΡΡΡΡΡΡΡΠΈ Π΄Π° ΡΡ Π΄Π΅Π»Π° ΠΊΠΎΡΠ° ΡΡ ΠΎΠ²Π΄Π΅ ΡΠ°Π³Π»Π΅Π΄Π°Π²Π°Π½Π° ΡΠ΅Π΄Π½Π°ΠΊΠΎ ΡΡΠ΅ΠΌΠ΅ΡΠ΅Π½Π° Ρ ΡΡΡΠΊΠΎΠΌ ΠΏΠΎΡΠ΅ΠΊΠ»Ρ Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π²ΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΎΠ³ ΠΊΠ°ΠΎ ΠΈ Ρ ΡΠ΅Π³ΠΎΠ²ΠΈΠΌ ΠΈΡΠΊΡΡΡΠ²ΠΈΠΌΠ° Π½Π° ΠΠ°ΠΏΠ°Π΄Ρ. ΠΠ°ΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΠ½Π° ΠΠ΅Π²ΠΈΠ΄Ρ Π΄Π°ΡΠ΅ Π½ΠΎΠ²ΠΈ ΠΏΠΎΠ³Π»Π΅Π΄ Π½Π° ΠΠΎΠ΅ΡΠΈΠΊΡ ΠΌΡΠ·ΠΈΠΊΠ΅, Π° Π½Π°ΡΠΎΡΠΈΡΠΎ Π½Π° ΠΏΠΈΡΠ°ΡΠ΅ Π΄ΠΎΠΏΡΠΈΠ½ΠΎΡΠ° ΠΡΠ΅ΡΠ° Π‘ΡΠ²ΡΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΎΠ³ ΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠΌ ΠΏΠΎΠ΄ΡΡ
Π²Π°ΡΡ. ΠΠ΅Π½ΠΎ ΠΈΡΡΡΠ°ΠΆΠΈΠ²Π°ΡΠ΅ ΠΊΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅ ΡΠ΅ ΠΈΠ·Π²Π°Π½ ΠΎΡΠ΅ΠΊΠΈΠ²Π°Π½ΠΈΡ
ΠΌΠ΅ΡΡΠ° Π·Π° ΠΏΠΎΡΠΌΠ°ΡΡΠ°ΡΠ΅, ΠΎΠ΄Π½ΠΎΡΠ½ΠΎ ΠΈΠ·Π²Π°Π½ ΠΏΠ΅ΡΠΎΠ³ ΠΏΠΎΠ³Π»Π°Π²ΡΠ° (ΠΊΠΎΡΠ΅ ΡΠ΅ Π½Π°ΠΏΠΈΡΠ°ΠΎ Π‘ΡΠ²ΡΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΈ) ΠΈ Π΄ΠΎΠ±ΡΠΎ ΠΏΠΎΠ·Π½Π°ΡΠ΅ ΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅Π½ΡΠ΅ ΠΊΠ° ΠΈΠ΄Π΅ΡΠ°ΠΌΠ° Π‘ΡΠ²ΡΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΎΠ³ ΠΎ ΠΌΡΠ·ΠΈΡΠΈ ΠΈ Π²ΡΠ΅ΠΌΠ΅Π½Ρ. ΠΠ° ΡΠ°Ρ Π½Π°ΡΠΈΠ½ ΡΠ΅ ΠΠΎΠ΅ΡΠΈΠΊΠ° ΠΈΠ½ΡΡΠΈΠ³Π°Π½ΡΠ½ΠΎ ΠΏΠΎΡΡΠ°ΡΠΈ Π½Π°ΡΠΌΠ°ΡΠ΅ ΠΎΡΠ΅ΠΊΠΈΠ²Π°Π½Π° ΠΏΠ»Π°ΡΡΠΎΡΠΌΠ° Π·Π° ΠΏΡΠ΅Π·Π΅Π½ΡΠ°ΡΠΈΡΡ ΠΈ Π΄ΠΈΡΠ΅ΠΌΠΈΠ½Π°ΡΠΈΡΡ ΠΏΠΎΠ·ΠΈΡΠΈΡΠ° ΠΏΠΎΠ²Π΅Π·Π°Π½ΠΈΡ
Ρ ΠΎΠ΄ΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅Π½ΠΈΠΌ Π½ΠΈΡΠΈΠΌΠ° βΠ΅Π²ΡΠΎΠ°Π·ΠΈΡΡΡΠ²Π°β, ΡΡΡΠΊΠΎΠ³ Π΅ΠΌΠΈΠ³ΡΠ°Π½ΡΡΠΊΠΎΠ³ ΠΈΠ½ΡΠ΅Π»Π΅ΠΊΡΡΠ°Π»Π½ΠΎΠ³ ΠΈ ΠΏΠΎΠ»ΠΈΡΠΈΡΠΊΠΎΠ³ ΠΏΠΎΠΊΡΠ΅ΡΠ°, Ρ ΠΊΠΎΡΠΈΠΌ ΡΠ΅ Π‘ΡΠ²ΡΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΈ Π±ΠΈΠΎ Π±Π»ΠΈΠ·Π°ΠΊ. ΠΡΠΈΡΡΠΎΡ Π€Π»Π°ΠΌ ΡΠΎΠΊΡΡΠΈΡΠ°ΠΎ ΡΠ΅ Π½Π° ΠΊΠ°ΡΠ½ΠΎ ΡΡΠ²Π°ΡΠ°Π»Π°ΡΡΠ²ΠΎ Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π²ΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΎΠ³ ΠΈ ΡΠ°Π·ΠΌΠ°ΡΡΠ°ΠΎ Π³Π° ΠΈΠ· ΠΏΠ΅ΡΡΠΏΠ΅ΠΊΡΠΈΠ²Π΅ Π΅ΠΊΡΠΏΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΠ²Π½ΠΎΡΡΠΈ. ΠΠΎΠ½ΠΊΡΠ΅ΡΠ½ΠΎ, ΠΎΠ²Π°Ρ Π°ΡΡΠΎΡ ΡΠ΅ ΠΈΡΡΠ°ΠΊΠ°ΠΎ Π΅ΠΊΡΠΏΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΠ²Π½Π΅, ΡΠ΅ΠΌΠ°Π½ΡΠΈΡΠΊΠ΅ ΠΈ ΡΠ°ΠΌΠΎΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅Π½ΡΠΈΡΠ°Π»Π½Π΅ Π΄ΠΈΠΌΠ΅Π½Π·ΠΈΡΠ΅ Ρ ΠΊΠ°ΡΠ½ΠΈΠΌ Π΄Π΅Π»ΠΈΠΌΠ°, ΠΊΠΎΡΠ΅ ΡΠ΅ Ρ ΡΠΈΠΌΠ° ΠΏΠΎΡΠ°Π²ΡΡΡΡ Ρ Π½Π°ΡΠΎΡΠΈΡΠΎΠΌ ΡΠ°ΡΠ½ΠΎΡΠΎΠΌ ΠΈ Π΄Π΅Π»ΠΈΠΌΠΈΡΠ½ΠΎ ΠΏΡΠΎΡΠΈΠ²ΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅ ΡΠΎΠ±ΠΈΡΠ°ΡΠ΅Π½ΠΈΠΌ ΠΎΡΠ΅Π½Π°ΠΌΠ° ΠΎΠ²Π΅ ΠΌΡΠ·ΠΈΠΊΠ΅ ΠΊΠ°ΠΎ Π°ΠΏΡΡΡΠ°ΠΊΡΠ½Π΅ ΠΈ ΠΊΠΎΠ½ΡΡΡΡΠΊΡΠΈΠ²ΠΈΡΡΠΈΡΠΊΠ΅, Π° ΡΠ°ΠΊΠΎΡΠ΅ ΠΈΠ·Π°Π·ΠΈΠ²Π°ΡΡ ΠΈ ΠΊΠΎΠΌΠΏΠΎΠ·ΠΈΡΠΎΡΠΎΠ²Π΅ Π»ΠΈΡΠ½Π΅ ΠΈΠ·ΡΠ°Π²Π΅. Π‘ ΡΠ»Π°Π½ΠΊΠΎΠΌ ΠΠ΄Π²Π°ΡΠ΄Π° ΠΠ΅ΠΌΠ±Π΅Π»Π° ΠΎΡΡΠ°ΡΠ΅ΠΌΠΎ Ρ ΠΏΠΎΡΠ»Π΅ΡΠ°ΡΠ½ΠΎΠΌ Π΄ΠΎΠ±Ρ, Π°Π»ΠΈ ΡΠ΅ ΡΠΎΠΊΡΡ ΠΏΠΎΠΌΠ΅ΡΠ° Ρ Π΄Π΅Π»Π° Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π²ΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΎΠ³ ΠΏΠΎ ΡΠ΅Π±ΠΈ Π½Π° ΡΡΠΈΡΠ°Ρ ΡΠ΅Π³ΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠ³ ΡΠ°Π΄Π° Π½Π° ΡΡΠ°Π½ΠΊΠΎΡΠΎΠ½Ρ ΠΏΠΎΡΠ»Π΅ΡΠ°ΡΠ½Ρ Π°Π²Π°Π½Π³Π°ΡΠ΄Ρ, ΠΎΠ΄Π½ΠΎΡΠ½ΠΎ Π½Π° ΠΡΠ΅ΡΠ° ΠΡΠ»Π΅Π·Π°, ΠΠ°Π½Π° ΠΠ°ΡΠ°ΠΊΠ°, ΠΠ½ΡΠΈΡΠ° ΠΡΡΠ΅ΡΠ° ΠΈ ΠΠΈΡΠ΅Π»Π° Π€ΠΈΠ»ΠΈΠΏΠΎΠ°. ΠΠ΅ΠΌΠ±Π΅Π»ΠΎΠ²Π° Π°Π½Π°Π»ΠΈΠ·Π° ΠΈΠ·Π²Π»Π°ΡΠΈ Π½Π° ΠΏΠΎΠ²ΡΡΠΈΠ½Ρ ΡΡΠΈΡΠ°Ρ ΠΊΠΎΡΠΈ ΡΠ΅ Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π²ΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΈ ΠΈΠΌΠ°ΠΎ Π½Π° ΠΎΠ²Π΅ ΠΊΠΎΠΌΠΏΠΎΠ·ΠΈΡΠΎΡΠ΅ Π½Π° Π½ΠΈΠ²ΠΎΠΈΠΌΠ° ΡΠΈΡΠΌΠΈΡΠΊΠ΅ ΠΈΠ½ΠΎΠ²Π°ΡΠΈΡΠ΅, ΡΠΏΠΎΡΡΠ΅Π±Π΅ Π·Π²ΡΡΠ½ΠΎΡΡΠΈ, Ρ
Π°ΡΠΌΠΎΠ½ΠΈΡΠ°, ΠΈΠ½ΡΡΡΡΠΌΠ΅Π½ΡΠ°Π»Π½Π΅ Π±ΠΎΡΠ΅, ΠΌΡΠ·ΠΈΡΠΊΠ΅ ΡΠΎΡΠΌΠ΅, ΠΊΠ°ΠΎ ΠΈ ΠΏΠΎΠ»Π°ΡΠΈΡΠ΅ΡΠ° Π²ΠΈΡΠΈΠ½Π΅ ΡΠΎΠ½Π°.
ΠΠΎΡΠ»Π΅Π΄ΡΠ° Π΄Π²Π° ΡΠ»Π°Π½ΠΊΠ° ΠΏΡΠΈΠ»Π°Π·Π΅ ΡΠ°Π΄Ρ Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π²ΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΎΠ³ ΠΈΠ· ΠΏΠ΅ΡΡΠΏΠ΅ΠΊΡΠΈΠ²Π΅ Π΅ΡΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΠΊΠ΅, Ρ ΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅Π½ΡΠ°ΠΌΠ° ΠΊΠ° ΡΠΈΠ»ΠΎΠ·ΠΎΡΠΈΡΠΈ ΡΠ΅Π³ΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠ³ ΡΠ°Π²ΡΠ΅ΠΌΠ΅Π½ΠΈΠΊΠ°, Π₯Π΅Π»ΠΌΡΡΠ° ΠΠ»Π΅ΡΠ½Π΅ΡΠ°. ΠΠ°ΠΊΠΎΠ²ΠΎΡ Π¨ΡΠ°ΡΠ½Ρ
Π°ΡΠ΅Ρ ΡΠ°ΡΠΏΡΠ°Π²ΡΠ° ΠΎ Π·Π½Π°ΡΠ΅ΡΡ ΡΠ΅Π»Π΅ΡΠ½ΠΎΡΡΠΈ ΠΈ ΠΏΠ»Π΅ΡΠ° Ρ ΡΡΠ²Π°ΡΠ°Π»Π°ΡΡΠ²Ρ Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π²ΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΎΠ³, ΠΎΠ΄Π»Π°Π·Π΅ΡΠΈ ΠΈΠ·Π²Π°Π½ ΠΈΡΡΠΎΡΠΈΡΡΠΊΠΈ Π΄ΠΎΠΊΡΠΌΠ΅Π½ΡΠΎΠ²Π°Π½ΠΎΠ³ ΠΈΠ½ΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΡΠΎΠ²Π°ΡΠ° ΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠ³ ΠΊΠΎΠΌΠΏΠΎΠ·ΠΈΡΠΎΡΠ° Π·Π° Π±Π°Π»Π΅ΡΡΠΊΡ ΠΌΡΠ·ΠΈΠΊΡ. ΠΠ°Π»Π΅ΡΡΠΊΠ° ΠΌΡΠ·ΠΈΠΊΠ° Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π²ΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΎΠ³, ΠΊΠ°ΠΊΠΎ Π¨ΡΠ°ΡΠ½Ρ
Π°ΡΠ΅Ρ ΠΏΠΎΠΊΠ°Π·ΡΡΠ΅, ΠΏΠΎΡΡΠΈΠΆΠ΅ ΡΡΠ°ΡΠ΅ βΠΏΠΎΡΡΠ΅Π΄ΠΎΠ²Π°Π½Π΅ Π½Π΅ΠΏΠΎΡΡΠ΅Π΄Π½ΠΎΡΡΠΈβ, ΠΎΠ΄ΡΠΆΠ°Π²Π°ΡΡΡΠΈ ΡΠ°ΠΊΠΎ Π΄ΠΈΡΡΠ°Π½ΡΡ Ρ ΠΎΠ΄Π½ΠΎΡΡ Π½Π° ΡΡΠ±ΡΠ΅ΠΊΡΠΈΠ²Π½ΠΈ ΠΈΠ·ΡΠ°Π·, Π±Π΅Π· ΠΊΠΎΡΠ΅Π³, ΠΏΠ°ΠΊ, ΠΏΠΎΡΡΠ°ΡΠ΅ Π°ΠΏΡΡΡΠ°ΠΊΡΠ½Π°. ΠΠΎΠ½Π°ΡΠ½ΠΎ, ΠΠ°ΡΠΊΠΎΡ Π¦Π΅ΡΠΎΡ Π½ΡΠ΄ΠΈ Π½ΠΎΠ²Ρ ΠΊΡΠΈΡΠΈΠΊΡ ΠΠ΄ΠΎΡΠ½ΠΎΠ²Π΅ ΠΊΡΠΈΡΠΈΠΊΠ΅ Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π²ΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΎΠ³, ΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΡΠ°ΡΡΡΠΈ Π½Π° ΠΠ»Π΅ΡΠ½Π΅ΡΠΎΠ²Ρ ΡΠΈΠ»ΠΎΠ·ΠΎΡΡΠΊΡ Π°Π½ΡΡΠΎΠΏΠΎΠ»ΠΎΠ³ΠΈΡΡ. ΠΠ½, ΡΡΠΎΠ³Π°, ΠΈΠ·Π°Π·ΠΈΠ²Π° ΠΠ΄ΠΎΡΠ½ΠΎΠ²Π΅ ΠΏΠΎΠ³Π»Π΅Π΄Π΅ ΠΊΠΎΡΠΈ Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π²ΠΈΠ½ΡΠΊΠΎΠ³ ΡΠ²ΡΡΡΠ°Π²Π°ΡΡ Ρ Π½Π΅Ρ
ΡΠΌΠ°Π½Π΅ ΠΈ ΠΏΡΠΈΠΌΠΈΡΠΈΠ²Π½Π΅, ΠΏΠΎΠΊΠ°Π·ΡΡΡΡΠΈ ΡΠΌΠ΅ΡΡΠΎ ΡΠΎΠ³Π° Π΄Π° ΡΠ΅Π³ΠΎΠ²Π° ΠΌΡΠ·ΠΈΠΊΠ° Π΄ΠΎΡΡΠΈΠΆΠ΅, Ρ ΠΈΡΡΠΎΡΠΈΡΡΠΊΠΈ Π°Π΄Π΅ΠΊΠ²Π°ΡΠ½ΠΈΠΌ ΠΌΠΎΠ΄Π΅ΡΠ½ΠΈΠΌ ΡΠ΅ΡΠΌΠΈΠ½ΠΈΠΌΠ°, ΠΊΠΎΠ½ΡΡΠΈΡΡΡΠΈΠ²Π½Ρ ΡΠ΅ΡΠ»Π΅ΠΊΡΠΈΠ²Π½ΠΎΡΡ ΡΡΠ΄ΡΠΊΠΎΠ³ ΠΎΡΠ΅Π»ΠΎΡΠ²ΠΎΡΠ΅Π½ΠΎΠ³ ΡΡΠ°ΡΠ°.
Π ΡΠ±ΡΠΈΠΊΠ° Varia ΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠΌ ΡΠ΅ ΠΏΡΠΈΠ»ΠΈΠΊΠΎΠΌ Π½Π΅ΡΡΠΎ ΡΠ°ΠΆΠ΅ΡΠΈΡΠ° β Π΄ΠΎΠ½ΠΎΡΠΈ ΡΡΠΈ ΡΡΡΠ΄ΠΈΡΠ΅, Π°Π»ΠΈ ΡΡ ΡΠΈΠΌΠ° ΠΌΠ°ΡΠΊΠΈΡΠ°Π½Π° ΡΠ°Π·Π»ΠΈΡΠΈΡΠ° ΠΏΠΎΡΠ° ΠΌΡΠ·ΠΈΠΊΠΎΠ»ΠΎΡΠΊΠΈΡ
ΠΈΡΡΡΠ°ΠΆΠΈΠ²Π°ΡΠ°. ΠΠΎΡΠ°Π½Π° Π Π°Π΄ΠΎΠ²Π°Π½ΠΎΠ²ΠΈΡ ΡΡΡΠ΄ΠΈΠΎΠ·Π½ΠΎ ΡΠ΅ Π±Π°Π²ΠΈΠ»Π° ΠΏΡΠΎΡΡΠ°Π²Π°ΡΠ΅ΠΌ Π΅ΠΊΡΠΏΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΠ²Π½ΠΈΡ
ΡΡΠ΅Π΄ΡΡΠ°Π²Π° Ρ Π΄Π΅Π»ΠΈΠΌΠ° Π·Π° Π³Π»Π°Ρ ΡΡΠΏΡΠΊΠΎΠ³ ΠΊΠΎΠΌΠΏΠΎΠ·ΠΈΡΠΎΡΠ° ΠΡΠ³Π° ΠΠ°ΡΠΊΠΎΠ²ΠΈΡΠ°, Π°Π»ΠΈ ΠΈ ΠΏΠΈΡΠ°ΡΠΈΠΌΠ° ΠΈΠ· Π΄ΠΎΠΌΠ΅Π½Π° ΠΎΠ΄Π½ΠΎΡΠ° ΠΊΠΎΠΌΠΏΠΎΠ·ΠΈΡΠΎΡΠ° ΠΈ Π²ΠΎΠΊΠ°Π»Π½ΠΎΠ³ ΠΈΠ·Π²ΠΎΡΠ°ΡΠ°. Π¦ΠΈΡ ΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠ³ ΠΏΠΎΠ΄ΡΡ
Π²Π°ΡΠ° Π±ΠΈΠΎ ΡΠ΅ Π΄Π° ΠΏΡΡΠ΅ΠΌ Π°Π½Π°Π»ΠΈΠ·Π΅ ΠΎΠ΄Π°Π±ΡΠ°Π½ΠΈΡ
ΠΊΠΎΠΌΠΏΠΎΠ·ΠΈΡΠΈΡΠ° Π΄ΠΎΠΏΡΠΈΠ½Π΅ΡΠ΅ ΠΎΡΠ²Π΅ΡΡΠ°Π²Π°ΡΡ ΠΠ°ΡΠΊΠΎΠ²ΠΈΡΠ΅Π²ΠΎΠ³ Π΅ΠΊΠ»Π΅ΠΊΡΠΈΡΠ½ΠΎΠ³ ΡΡΠΈΠ»Π°, ΠΊΠ°ΠΎ ΠΈ Π΄Π° ΡΠ΅ ΠΎΠ½ ΠΏΠΎΠ·ΠΈΡΠΈΠΎΠ½ΠΈΡΠ° Ρ ΠΌΠ΅ΡΡΠ½Π°ΡΠΎΠ΄Π½Π΅ ΠΊΡΡΠ³ΠΎΠ²Π΅ ΡΡΠ²Π°ΡΠ°Π»Π°ΡΠ° ΠΊΠΎΡΠΈ ΡΠ΅ Π³Π»Π°ΡΠΎΠΌ Π±Π°Π²Π΅ Π½Π° Π½Π΅ΡΡΠ°Π΄ΠΈΡΠΈΠΎΠ½Π°Π»Π½Π΅ Π½Π°ΡΠΈΠ½Π΅. ΠΡΡΡΠ°ΠΆΠΈΠ²Π°ΡΠ΅ ΠΠ°ΡΠΈΡΠ΅ ΠΠΈΠ½ΠΎΠ² ΠΏΡΠ΅Π΄ΡΡΠ°Π²ΡΠ΅Π½ΠΎ ΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠΌ ΠΏΡΠΈΠ»ΠΈΠΊΠΎΠΌ ΠΎΠ΄Π½ΠΎΡΠΈ ΡΠ΅ Π½Π° ΠΊΠΈΠ½Π΅ΡΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΡΠΊΠ΅ Π³Π΅ΡΡΠΎΠ²Π΅, ΠΎΠ΄Π½ΠΎΡΠ½ΠΎ ΡΠ΅Π»Π΅ΡΠ½Π΅ ΠΏΠΎΠΊΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅ ΠΈΠ·Π²ΠΎΡΠ°ΡΠ° ΡΠΎΠΊΠΎΠΌ ΠΏΠ΅ΡΡΠΎΡΠΌΠ°Π½ΡΠ°, Π° ΡΠΊΡΡΡΡΡΡΡΠΈ ΡΠΎΠΏΡΡΠ²Π΅Π½Π° ΠΏΠΈΡΠ°Π½ΠΈΡΡΠΈΡΠΊΠ° ΠΈΡΠΊΡΡΡΠ²Π°, ΠΏΠΎΡΠ΅Π±Π½Ρ ΡΠ΅ ΠΏΠ°ΠΆΡΡ ΠΏΠΎΡΠ²Π΅ΡΠΈΠ»Π° ΠΠ΅ΡΠΎΠ²Π΅Π½ΠΎΠ²ΠΈΠΌ ΠΊΠ»Π°Π²ΠΈΡΡΠΊΠΈΠΌ ΡΠΎΠ½Π°ΡΠ°ΠΌΠ°. ΠΠ±ΡΠ°ΡΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅ ΡΡΠΈΡΠ°ΡΠ° ΠΊΠ°ΡΠ°ΠΊΡΠ΅ΡΠ° ΡΠΈΠ·ΠΈΡΠΊΠΈΡ
ΠΏΠΎΠΊΡΠ΅ΡΠ° ΡΠ΅Π»Π° Π½Π° ΠΌΡΠ·ΠΈΡΠΊΠΎ Π΄Π΅Π»ΠΎ ΡΠΊΡΡΡΠΈΠ»ΠΎ ΡΠ΅ ΠΎΡΠ²ΡΡ Π½Π° ΡΡΠ²Π°ΡΠ°ΡΠ΅ ΠΌΡΠ·ΠΈΡΠΊΠΎΠ³ Π΄Π΅Π»Π°, Π° Ρ Π΄ΡΡΠ³Π΅ ΡΡΡΠ°Π½Π΅ ΠΈ Π½Π° ΡΠ΅Π½Π·Π°ΡΠΈΡΠ΅ ΡΠΎΠΊΠΎΠΌ ΡΠ΅Π³ΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠ³ ΠΈΠ·Π²ΠΎΡΠ΅ΡΠ°, ΡΡΠΎ ΡΠ΅ ΡΡΠ³Π΅ΡΠΈΡΠ°Π»ΠΎ ΡΠΈΡΠΈ Π·Π°ΠΊΡΡΡΠ°ΠΊ ΠΎ ΠΏΠΎΡΠ΅Π±Π½ΠΎΡ Π²Π°ΠΆΠ½ΠΎΡΡΠΈ ΡΠ°Π·ΡΠΌΠ΅Π²Π°ΡΠ° βΠΊΠΈΠ½Π΅ΡΠΈΡΠΊΠ΅ Π΅Π½Π΅ΡΠ³ΠΈΡΠ΅ ΠΌΡΠ·ΠΈΠΊΠ΅β. ΠΠΎΡΠ»Π΅Π΄ΡΠΈ Ρ ΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠΌ Π΄Π΅Π»Ρ ΡΠ°ΡΠΎΠΏΠΈΡΠ° ΡΠ΅ ΡΠ»Π°Π½Π°ΠΊ ΠΠΈΠ½Π΅ ΠΠΎΡΠ²ΠΎΠ΄ΠΈΡ ΠΠΈΠΊΠΎΠ»ΠΈΡ, ΠΏΠΎΡΠ²Π΅ΡΠ΅Π½ ΠΌΡΠ·ΠΈΡΠΊΠΈΠΌ ΠΊΡΠΈΡΠΈΠΊΠ°ΠΌΠ° ΠΠ΅ΡΡΠ° ΠΠΈΠ½Π³ΡΠ»ΡΠ°, ΠΊΠ°ΠΎ ΠΏΠΎΡΠ΅Π±Π½ΠΎ Π²Π°ΠΆΠ½ΠΎΠΌ Π΄Π΅Π»Ρ ΡΠ΅Π³ΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠ³ Π΄ΠΎΠΏΡΠΈΠ½ΠΎΡΠ° ΡΡΠΏΡΠΊΠΎΡ ΠΊΡΠ»ΡΡΡΠ½ΠΎΡ ΠΈΡΡΠΎΡΠΈΡΠΈ ΠΈ ΠΌΡΠ·ΠΈΠΊΠΎΠ»ΠΎΠ³ΠΈΡΠΈ. ΠΠ½Π°Π»ΠΈΠ·ΠΈΡΠ°Π½ΠΈ ΡΡ ΡΠ΅ΠΊΡΡΠΎΠ²ΠΈ ΠΏΡΠ±Π»ΠΈΠΊΠΎΠ²Π°Π½ΠΈ Ρ ΡΠ°ΡΠΎΠΏΠΈΡΡ ΠΠΈΡΠ°ΠΎ, ΡΠΊΠ°Π·Π°Π½ΠΎ ΡΠ΅ Π½Π° ΠΠΈΠ½Π³ΡΠ»ΡΠ΅Π² Π½Π°ΡΠΈΠ½ ΠΌΠΈΡΡΠ΅ΡΠ° ΠΈ ΠΌΠ΅ΡΠΎΠ΄ ΡΠ°Π΄Π°, Π° ΠΊΠΎΠΌΠΏΠ°ΡΠ°ΡΠΈΠ²Π½ΠΎΠΌ Π°Π½Π°Π»ΠΈΠ·ΠΎΠΌ Ρ ΠΊΡΠΈΡΠΈΠΊΠ°ΠΌΠ° Π΄ΡΡΠ³ΠΈΡ
Π°ΡΡΠΎΡΠ° Π΄Π°ΡΠ° ΡΠ΅ ΠΎΡΠ½ΠΎΠ²Π° Π·Π° ΡΠ΅Π³ΠΎΠ²ΠΎ ΠΏΠΎΠ·ΠΈΡΠΈΠΎΠ½ΠΈΡΠ°ΡΠ΅ Ρ ΡΡΠΏΡΠΊΠΎΡ ΠΌΡΠ·ΠΈΡΠΊΠΎΡ ΠΊΡΠΈΡΠΈΡΠΈ Ρ ΠΏΠ΅ΡΠΈΠΎΠ΄Ρ ΠΈΠ·ΠΌΠ΅ΡΡ Π΄Π²Π°ΡΡ ΡΠ²Π΅ΡΡΠΊΠΈΡ
ΡΠ°ΡΠΎΠ²Π°, ΠΊΠ°Π΄Π° ΡΠ΅ ΠΏΠΎΠΌΠ΅Π½ΡΡΠΈ ΡΠ°ΡΠΎΠΏΠΈΡ ΠΈΠ·Π»Π°Π·ΠΈΠΎ.
ΠΡΠΈΠ»ΠΎΠ·ΠΈ Ρ ΡΡΠ±ΡΠΈΡΠΈ ΠΠ°ΡΡΠ½Π° ΠΊΡΠΈΡΠΈΠΊΠ° ΠΈ ΠΏΠΎΠ»Π΅ΠΌΠΈΠΊΠ° ΠΎΠ΄Π½ΠΎΡΠ΅ ΡΠ΅ Π½Π° Π½Π΅Π΄Π°Π²Π½ΠΎ ΠΎΠ΄ΡΠΆΠ°Π½ Π½Π°ΡΡΠ½ΠΈ ΡΠΊΡΠΏ ΠΈ Π½Π° Π·Π±ΠΎΡΠ½ΠΈΠΊ Π·Π° ΠΊΠΎΡΠΈ ΡΠ΅ ΠΈΠ·ΠΎΡΡΠ°Π»Π° Π΄ΡΠΆΠ½Π° ΠΏΠ°ΠΆΡΠ° Π·Π±ΠΎΠ³ ΠΏΡΠ±Π»ΠΈΠΊΠΎΠ²Π°ΡΠ° ΡΠΎΠΊΠΎΠΌ ΠΏΠ°Π½Π΄Π΅ΠΌΠΈΡΠ΅ ΠΊΠΎΠ²ΠΈΠ΄Π°. ΠΠ°ΡΠΈΡΠ° ΠΠ°Π³Π»ΠΎΠ² ΠΏΡΠΈΠΏΡΠ΅ΠΌΠΈΠ»Π° ΡΠ΅ ΠΊΡΠΈΡΠΈΡΠΊΠΈ ΠΎΡΠ²ΡΡ Π½Π° ΠΌΠ΅ΡΡΠ½Π°ΡΠΎΠ΄Π½ΠΈ ΡΠΈΠΌΠΏΠΎΠ·ΠΈΡΡΠΌ ΠΏΠΎΡΠ²Π΅ΡΠ΅Π½ ΡΠ°Π½ΠΎΡ Π΄ΠΈΡΠΊΠΎΠ³ΡΠ°ΡΡΠΊΠΎΡ ΠΈΠ½Π΄ΡΡΡΡΠΈΡΠΈ, Π°ΠΊΡΡΠ΅Π»Π½ΠΎΡ ΡΠ΅ΠΌΠΈ Ρ ΠΊΠΎΠ½ΡΠ΅ΠΊΡΡΡ ΡΡΡΠ΄ΠΈΡΠ° ΠΌΠ΅Π΄ΠΈΡΠ°Π»ΠΈΠ·Π°ΡΠΈΡΠ΅ ΠΈ ΠΈΠ½Π΄ΡΡΡΡΠΈΡΠ°Π»ΠΈΠ·Π°ΡΠΈΡΠ΅ ΠΌΡΠ·ΠΈΠΊΠ΅, ΠΊΠΎΡΠΈ ΡΡ ΠΎΡΠ³Π°Π½ΠΈΠ·ΠΎΠ²Π°Π»Π΅ Ρ
ΡΠ²Π°ΡΡΠΊΠ΅ ΠΊΠΎΠ»Π΅Π³Π΅, ΠΌΠ°ΡΡΠ° ΠΎΠ²Π΅ Π³ΠΎΠ΄ΠΈΠ½Π΅. ΠΠ²Π°Ρ ΠΏΡΠΈΠ»ΠΎΠ³ Π½Π°ΡΠΎΡΠΈΡΠΎ ΡΠ΅ Π²Π°ΠΆΠ°Π½, Ρ ΠΎΠ±Π·ΠΈΡΠΎΠΌ Π½Π° ΡΠΎ Π΄Π° ΡΠ΅ Π½Π΅ ΠΎΡΠ΅ΠΊΡΡΠ΅ ΡΠΎΠ±ΠΈΡΠ°ΡΠ΅Π½ ΡΠ΅ΠΌΠ°ΡΡΠΊΠΈ Π·Π±ΠΎΡΠ½ΠΈΠΊ ΡΠ°Π΄ΠΎΠ²Π° ΡΠ²ΠΈΡ
ΡΡΠ΅ΡΠ½ΠΈΠΊΠ° ΡΠΈΠΌΠΏΠΎΠ·ΠΈΡΡΠΌΠ°. ΠΠΈ Π·Π±ΠΎΡΠ½ΠΈΠΊ Rethinking Prokofiev, ΠΊΠΎΡΠΈ ΡΠ΅ ΠΏΡΠ΅Π΄ΡΡΠ°Π²ΠΈΠΎ ΠΠΈΠ»ΠΎΡ ΠΡΠ°Π»ΠΎΠ²ΠΈΡ, Π½ΠΈΡΠ΅ Π½Π°ΡΡΠ°ΠΎ Π½Π° ΠΎΡΠ½ΠΎΠ²Ρ Π½Π°ΡΡΠ½ΠΎΠ³ ΡΠΊΡΠΏΠ°, Π²Π΅Ρ ΡΠ΅ ΡΠ΅Π·ΡΠ»ΡΠ°Ρ ΠΎΡΠΈΠ³ΠΈΠ½Π°Π»Π½ΠΈΡ
Π°ΡΡ
ΠΈΠ²ΡΠΊΠΈΡ
, Π°Π½Π°Π»ΠΈΡΠΈΡΠΊΠΈΡ
, ΠΎΠ΄Π½ΠΎΡΠ½ΠΎ ΠΈΠ·Π²ΠΎΡΠ°ΡΠΊΠΎ-ΠΈΠ½ΡΠ΅ΡΠΏΡΠ΅ΡΠ°ΡΠΈΠ²Π½ΠΈΡ
ΠΈΡΡΡΠ°ΠΆΠΈΠ²Π°ΡΠ° ΠΎΠΏΡΡΠ° ΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠ³ ΠΊΠΎΠΌΠΏΠΎΠ·ΠΈΡΠΎΡΠ°. Π Π΅Ρ ΡΠ΅ ΠΎ ΠΈΠ·Π΄Π°ΡΡ Π½Π° ΠΊΠΎΡΠ΅ΠΌ ΡΡ Π°Π½Π³Π°ΠΆΠΎΠ²Π°Π½ΠΈ Π²ΠΎΠ΄Π΅ΡΠΈ ΡΡΡΡΡΡΠ°ΡΠΈ Ρ ΠΈΠ½ΡΠ΅ΡΠΏΡΠ΅ΡΠ°ΡΠΈΡΠΈ ΠΎΡΡΠ²Π°ΡΠ΅ΡΠ° ΠΡΠΎΠΊΠΎΡΡΠ΅Π²Π°, ΠΎΠ΄ ΡΡΠ΅Π΄Π½ΠΈΠΊΠ° Π΄ΠΎ Π°ΡΡΠΎΡΠ°, ΡΠ΅ Π·Π°Π²ΡΠ΅ΡΡΡΠ΅ ΠΏΠΎΡΠ΅Π±Π½Ρ ΠΏΠ°ΠΆΡΡ Π½Π°ΡΡΠ½Π΅ ΡΠ°Π²Π½ΠΎΡΡΠΈ.
Π Π΅Π΄Π°ΠΊΡΠΈΡΠ° ΡΠ°ΡΠΎΠΏΠΈΡΠ° ΠΡΠ·ΠΈΠΊΠΎΠ»ΠΎΠ³ΠΈΡΠ° ΡΡΠ΄Π°ΡΠ½ΠΎ Π·Π°Ρ
Π²Π°ΡΡΡΠ΅ Π½Π° ΡΠ°ΡΠ°Π΄ΡΠΈ Π΄Ρ ΠΠ°ΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΠ½ΠΈ ΠΠ΅Π²ΠΈΠ΄Ρ, Π΄ΠΎΡΠ΅Π½ΡΡ Π½Π° ΠΠ΄ΡΠ΅ΠΊΡ Π·Π° ΠΌΡΠ·ΠΈΡΠΊΠ΅ ΡΡΡΠ΄ΠΈΡΠ΅ ΠΠ°ΡΠΈΠΎΠ½Π°Π»Π½ΠΎΠ³ ΠΈ ΠΠ°ΠΏΠΎΠ΄ΠΈΡΡΡΠΈΡΠ°ΡΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠ³ ΡΠ½ΠΈΠ²Π΅ΡΠ·ΠΈΡΠ΅ΡΠ° Ρ ΠΡΠΈΠ½ΠΈ, ΠΊΠΎΡΠ° ΡΠ΅ ΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠΌ ΠΏΡΠΈΠ»ΠΈΠΊΠΎΠΌ ΠΏΡΠ΅ΡΠ·Π΅Π»Π° Π΄ΡΠΆΠ½ΠΎΡΡ Π³ΠΎΡΡΠ΅-ΡΡΠ΅Π΄Π½ΠΈΡΠ΅ Π·Π° ΡΡΠ±ΡΠΈΠΊΡ Π’Π΅ΠΌΠ° Π±ΡΠΎΡΠ°. ΠΠ·ΡΠ·Π΅ΡΠ½Ρ Π·Π°Ρ
Π²Π°Π»Π½ΠΎΡΡ ΠΈΠ·ΡΠ°ΠΆΠ°Π²Π°ΠΌΠΎ ΡΠ²ΠΈΠΌ ΠΊΠΎΠ»Π΅Π³Π°ΠΌΠ° ΠΊΠΎΡΠ΅ ΡΡ ΠΏΡΠΈΡ
Π²Π°ΡΠ°Π»Π΅ ΠΏΠΎΡΠ°ΠΎ ΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅Π½Π·Π΅Π½Π°ΡΠ° ΠΈ Π΄ΠΎΠΏΡΠΈΠ½Π΅Π»Π΅ ΠΊΠ²Π°Π»ΠΈΡΠ΅ΡΡ ΠΏΡΠ±Π»ΠΈΠΊΠΎΠ²Π°Π½ΠΈΡ
ΡΡΡΠ΄ΠΈΡΠ°.The commemoration of the fiftieth anniversary of Igor Stravinskyβs death (1882β1971) remained in the shadows of the covid-19 pandemic, which caused the prolonged response of the scientific community in terms of new readings of the composerβs opus. The Main Theme in the new issue of Muzikologija-Musicology (No. 34) makes a contribution to this response with a series of studies dedicated to Stravinsky, originating from presentations at the Study Day organized in 2021 by the Department of Music Studies of the National and Kapodistrian University of Athens. The topics cover a wide range of issues relating to all three phases of Stravinskyβs creation (the Russian, the Neoclassical and the Serial), including questions of aesthetics, as well as the impact and reception of his work.
Stamatis Zochios revisits the question of Stravinskyβs relationship with Russian folklore, by contextualising the composerβs output of the so-called βRussianβ period with reference to the history of Russian folkloristics. Zochios concludes that Stravinsky followed in the footsteps of his nineteenth-century predecessors (Glinka and the Mighty Five) in drawing on folk sources for his compositions, yet unlike them, he did not make use of studies from his own time; hence, he did not delve into an extensive and in-depth survey of the existing sources of Russian folklore but, instead, relied on established sources and studies from the nineteenth century. Ivan Moodyβs article sheds light on Stravinskyβs output with a focus on his religious works through the perspective of his acquaintance with Jacques Maritainβs philosophy, in the context of the philosophical ferment in Interwar France. Moody pays particular attention to Stravinskyβs interpretation of Maritainβs idea of homo faber, βman the makerβ. At the same time, he does not ignore the composerβs Russian origins, concluding that the works under examination are equally grounded in Stravinskyβs Russian background and his experiences in the West. Katerina Levidou sheds new light on the Poetics of Music, specifically the question of Pierre Souvtchinskyβs contribution. Her examination moves beyond the obvious places to look, namely the fifth chapter (written by Souvtchinsky) and the well-known reference to Souvtchinskyβs ideas on music and time. The Poetics thus emerges as a most unexpected platform for the presentation and dissemination of positions associated with a certain strand of βEurasianismβ, the Russian Γ©migrΓ© intellectual and political movement, with which Souvtchinsky was closely associated.
Christoph Flamm focuses on Stravinskyβs late output and considers it from the perspective of expressiveness. Specifically, he highlights expressive, semantic and self-referential dimensions in the late compositions, which emerge there with particular clarity and partly contradict the usual assessments of this music as abstract and constructivist, but also challenge the composerβs own statements. With Edward Campbellβs article we remain in the post-War era, yet the focus shifts from Stravinskyβs work per se to the impact his output had on the Francophone post-war avant-garde, namely Pierre Boulez, Jean BarraquΓ©, Henri Pousseur and Michel Philippot. Campbellβs analysis brings to the surface the influence Stravinsky had on such composers on the level of rhythmic innovation, and the use of sonorities, harmonies, instrumental colour, musical form as well as pitch polarity.
The last two articles approach Stravinskyβs work from the perspective of aesthetics, with reference specifically to the philosophy of Stravinskyβs contemporary, Helmuth Plessner. Iakovos Steinhauer discusses the meaning of corporeality and dance in Stravinskyβs work, moving beyond Stravinsky's historically-documented interest in ballet music. Stravinskyβs ballet music, as Steinhauer demonstrates, attains a βmediated immediacyβ, thus maintaining a distance from subjective expression, without, however, becoming abstract. Finally, Markos Tsetsos offers a new critique of Adornoβs criticism of Stravinsky with reference to Plessnerβs philosophical anthropology. He, therefore, challenges Adornoβs view that Stravinsky regresses to the inhuman and primitive, demonstrating, instead, that his music affirms, in historically adequate modern terms, the constitutive reflectivity of the human embodied condition.
On this occasion, the Varia section is more concise, to balance out the breadth of the Main Theme. It contains three studies that map out three different fields of musicological research. Bojana RadovanoviΔ has studiously examined the expressive means in the works for the voice of the Serbian composer Jug MarkoviΔ, including the questions from the domain of the relationship between the composer and the vocal performer. By analysing MarkoviΔβs selected works, she aims to illuminate his eclectic style and situate him in the international circles of composers who deal with the voice in non-traditional ways. Marija Dinovβs research presented in this issue deals with kinesthetic gestures, i.e. bodily movements of pianists (including herself) during performances, focusing on the performances of Beethovenβs piano sonatas. The explanation of the influence of physical movements on the musical work includes an overview of the creation of the musical work, and, on the other hand, of the sensations during its performance, which leads to a broader conclusion about the special importance of understanding the βkinetic energy of musicβ. The last article in this section of the journal is Dina VojvodiΔ NikoliΔβs article dedicated to Petar Bingulacβs music criticism, as a particularly important segment of his contribution to Serbian cultural history and musicology. The author analyses Bingulacβs texts published in the journal Misao [Thought] and points to Bingulacβs way of thinking and methods of work, whilst also providing a comparative analysis with the music reviews of other contemporary critics and thus situating Bingulacβs writings within Serbian music criticism from the interwar period, when the journal Misao was published.
Contributions in the section Scientific criticism and polemics refer to the recently held conference and to the collection which has hitherto attracted insufficient attention due to its publication during the covid-19 pandemic. Marija Maglov has prepared a review of the international symposium dedicated to the early recording industry, a current topic in the context of studies of medialisation and industrialisation of music, which was organized by Croatian colleagues in March 2023; this contribution is particularly important considering that the publication of the proceedings of the symposium is not expected. The collection Rethinking Prokofiev, reviewed by MiloΕ‘ BraloviΔ, did not result from a scientific conference either; it is the outcome of original archival, analytical, and performance-interpretive research of Sergei Prokofievβs oeuvre. This collection has gathered together leading experts on Prokofievβs works, from the editors to the authors, and it deserves special attention from the scientific community.
The Editorial Board of the journal Muzikologija-Musicology would like to thank Dr Katerina Levidou, Assistant Professor at the Department of Music Studies of the National and Kapodistrian University of Athens, who served as Guest Editor of the Main Theme. We are very grateful to all colleagues who accepted the roles of peer reviewers and contributed to the quality of published studies
Sounding the dead in Cambodia: cultivating ethics, generating wellbeing, and living with history through music and sound
This dissertation rethinks the ethics of history and trauma in post-genocide Cambodia by examining how Cambodians use a broad repertoire of sounded practices to form relations of mutual care with ancestors, dead teachers, deities, and other predecessors. At its root, the dissertation is the study of an ethical-religious-aesthetic system by which Cambodians recall predecessorsβ legacies, care for the dead, and engage ancestors and deities as supportive co-presences. Traditional and popular musics, Buddhist chants and incantations, whispers, and the non-acoustic practice of βspeaking in the heartβ (niyΔy knung citt) are among the primary sounded practices that Cambodians use to engage the dead. Parts One and Two detail those sounded practices and their social implications. I discuss how previous approaches have misinterpreted the nature and capacities of Cambodian music and other ritualized sounds through historicist, colonialist, and secular epistemologies, which cast those sounds as βcultureβ or βperformanceβ and ignore their capacities as modes of ethics and exchange with the dead. Instead, by rethinking those sounded practices as Cambodian-Buddhist ethics and exchange, I examine how Cambodians fulfill an obligation to care for the ancestors who have supported themselves. I suggest fulfilling that obligation generates personal wellbeing and provides a new model for what living with history can sound like and feel like. Taken together, in Parts One and Two, I detail the non-linear temporalities, types of personhood, ethics, exchange with the dead, and the intergenerational mode of living with history that Cambodians bring into being through music and sound.
Part Three zooms further out to discuss how sounded relations with the dead have consequences for national and international politics, which leads to larger critiques of the Cambodian governmentβs politicization of Khmer Rouge remembrance and international humanitarian efforts that attempt to help Cambodians heal from trauma. Since at least the mid-1990s, a plurality of international activists, scholars, volunteers, and development workers have concluded that Cambodians perpetuate a silence about the Khmer Rouge era that furthers their traumatization. Most observers suggest that Cambodians need to provide public testimony about that violent past in order to heal. This dissertation contests those conclusions, following work in anthropology and trauma studies that problematizes the universalization of the Western psychotherapeutic notion of biomedical trauma and its treatments. I suggest that those calls for a testimonial voice presuppose historicist modes of remembrance and knowledge production that naturalize liberal Western models of personhood, citizenship, justice, wellness, and political agency. To move away from those models, I argue that Cambodian sounded and ritual practices generate what I term βmodes of being historicalβ and βways of living with historyβ that are intimate, familial, intergenerational, engage national pasts, and can be a mode of political action. Those βmodes of being historicalβ include but are not limited to telling stories of othersβ struggles and deaths. I illustrate how Cambodians have long used a multitude of sounded practices to engage the past, grapple with lifeβs difficulties, and care for themselves and their ancestors.
This dissertation posits that sound studies and ethnomusicology can further the emerging scholarly shifts toward the culturally specific ways people cope with difficult pasts. I propose a new approach to post-violence ethics and history by arguing for the decolonizing possibilities of emphasizing the modes of being historical, ethical relations of mutual care, and ontological entanglements with the dead that Cambodians generate through music and sound
Designs of Blackness
Across more than two centuries Afro-America has created a huge and dazzling variety of literary self-expression. Designs of Blackness provides less a narrative literary history than, precisely, a series of mappingsβeach literary-critical and comparative while at the same time offering cultural and historical context. This carefully re-edited version of the 1998 publication opens with an estimation of earliest African American voice in the names of Phillis Wheatley and her contemporaries. It then takes up the huge span of autobiography from Frederick Douglass through to Maya Angelou. "Harlem on My Mind," which follows, sets out the literary contours of Americaβs premier black city. Womanism, Alice Walkerβs presiding term, is given full due in an analysis of fiction from Harriet E. Wilson to Toni Morrison. Richard Wright is approached not as some regulation "realist" but as a more inward, at times near-surreal, author. Decadology has its risks but the 1940s has rarely been approached as a unique era of war and peace and especially in African American texts. Beat Generation work usually adheres to Ginsberg and Kerouac, but black Beat writing invites its own chapter in the names of Amiri Baraka, Ted Joans and Bob Kaufman. The 1960s has long become a mythic change-decade, and in few greater respects than as a black theatre both of the stage and politics. In Leon Forrest African America had a figure of the postmodern turn: his work is explored in its own right and for how it takes its place in the context of other reflexive black fiction. "African American Fictions of Passing" unpacks the whole deceptive trope of "race" in writing from Williams Wells Brown through to Charles Johnson. The two newly added chapters pursue African American literary achievement into the Obama-Trump century, fiction from Octavia Butler to Darryl Pinkney, poetry from Rita Dove to Kevin Young
Computer Vision and Architectural History at Eye Level:Mixed Methods for Linking Research in the Humanities and in Information Technology
Information on the history of architecture is embedded in our daily surroundings, in vernacular and heritage buildings and in physical objects, photographs and plans. Historians study these tangible and intangible artefacts and the communities that built and used them. Thus valuableinsights are gained into the past and the present as they also provide a foundation for designing the future. Given that our understanding of the past is limited by the inadequate availability of data, the article demonstrates that advanced computer tools can help gain more and well-linked data from the past. Computer vision can make a decisive contribution to the identification of image content in historical photographs. This application is particularly interesting for architectural history, where visual sources play an essential role in understanding the built environment of the past, yet lack of reliable metadata often hinders the use of materials. The automated recognition contributes to making a variety of image sources usable forresearch.<br/
Analysis of Formant Frequencies and Vowel Articulation in the Spoken Standard Nigerian English of Undergraduate Students
The study compares the first two formants' frequencies in the speech of male and female undergraduate speakers of Standard Nigerian English at the University of Lagos (UNILAG). The study examined eight monophthongs produced in the CVC context (hVd) by 40 males and 40 females, and analysed the vowel quality and phonetic vowel space used by the two gender groups using the Linear Predictive Coding and spectrogram techniques. The findings reveal that there are differences in vowel realisation and quality between male and female speakers, which affect their accents. Specifically, the male undergraduates exhibit compression in the phonetic vowel space while their female counterparts show expansion. This study contributes to the understanding of the vowel space in the speech of male and female speakers, and how these differences may influence speech accent
Music and musicality in brain surgery:The effect on delirium and language
Delirium is a neuropsychiatric clinical syndrome with overlapping symptoms withthe neurologic primary disease. This is why delirium is such a difficult and underexposedtopic in neurosurgical literature. Delirium is a complication which mightaffect recovery after brain surgery, hence we describe in Chapter 2 a systematicreview which focuses on how delirium is defined in the neurosurgical literature.We included twenty-four studies (5589 patients) and found no validation studiesof screening instruments in neurosurgical papers. Delirium screening instruments,validated in other cohorts, were used in 70% of the studies, consisting of theConfusion Assessment Method (- Intensive Care Unit) (45%), Delirium ObservationScreening Scale (5%), Intensive Care Delirium Screening Checklist (10%), Neelonand Champagne Confusion Scale (5%), and Nursing Delirium Screening Scale (5%).Incidence of post-operative delirium after intracranial surgery was 19%, ranging from12 β 26% caused by variation in clinical features and delirium assessment methods.Our review highlighted the need of future research on delirium in neurosurgery,which should focus on optimizing diagnosis, and assessing prognostic significanceand management.It is unclear what the impact of delirium is on the recovery after brain surgery,as delirium is often a self-limiting and temporary complication. In Chapter 3 wetherefore investigated the impact of delirium, by means of incidence and healthoutcomes, and identified independent risk factors by including 2901 intracranialsurgical procedures. We found that delirium was present in 19.4% with an averageonset (mean/SD) within 2.62/1.22 days and associated with more Intensive CareUnit (ICU) admissions and more discharge towards residential care. These numbersconfirm the impact of delirium with its incidence rates, which were in line with ourprevious systematic review, and significant health-related outcomes. We identifiedseveral independent non-modifiable risk factors such as age, pre-existing memoryproblems, emergency operations, and modifiable risk factors such as low preoperativepotassium and opioid and dexamethasone administration, which shed lighton the pathophysiologic mechanisms of POD in this cohort and could be targetedfor future intervention studies.10As listening to recorded music has been proven to lower delirium-eliciting factors inthe surgical population, such as pain, we were interested in the size of analgesic effectand its underlying mechanism before applying this into our clinical setting. In Chapter4 we describe the results of a two-armed experimental randomized controlled trial inwhich 70 participants received increasing electric stimuli through their non-dominantindex finger. This study was conducted within a unique pain model as participantswere blinded for the outcome. Participants in the music group received a 20-minutemusic intervention and participants in the control group a 20-minute resting period.Although the effect of the music intervention on pain endurance was not statisticallysignificant in our intention-to-treat analysis (p = 0.482, CI -0.85; 1.79), the subgroupanalyses revealed an increase in pain endurance in the music group after correcting fortechnical uncertainties (p = 0.013, CI 0.35; 2.85). This effect on pain endurance couldbe attributed to increased parasympathetic activation, as an increased Heart RateVariability (HRV) was observed in the music vs. the control group (p=0.008;0.032).As our prior chapters increased our knowledge on the significance of delirium on thepost-operative recovery after brain surgery and the possible beneficial effects of music,we decided to design a randomized controlled trial. In Chapter 5 we describe theprotocol and in Chapter 6 we describe the results of this single-centered randomizedcontrolled trial. In this trial we included 189 patients undergoing craniotomy andcompared the effects of music administered before, during and after craniotomy withstandard of clinical care. The primary endpoint delirium was assessed by the deliriumobservation screening scale (DOSS) and confirmed by a psychiatrist accordingto DSM-5 criteria. A variety of secondary outcomes were assessed to substantiatethe effects of music on delirium and its clinical implications. Our results supportthe efficacy of music in preventing delirium after craniotomy, as found with DOSS(OR:0.49, p=0.048) but not after DSM-5 confirmation (OR:0.47, p=0.342). Thispossible beneficial effect is substantiated by the effect of music on pre-operativeautonomic tone, measured with HRV (p=0.021;0.025), and depth of anesthesia(p=<0.001;0.022). Our results fit well within the current literature and support theimplementation of music for the prevention of delirium within the neurosurgicalpopulation. However, delirium screening tools should be validated and the long-termimplications should be evaluated after craniotomy to assess the true impact of musicafter brain surgery.Musicality and language in awake brain surgeryIn the second part of this thesis, the focus swifts towards maintaining musicality andlanguage functions around awake craniotomy. Intra-operative mapping of languagedoes not ensure complete maintenance which mostly deteriorates after tumor resection.Most patients recover to their baseline whereas other remain to suffer from aphasiaaffecting their quality of life. The level of musical training might affect the speed andextend of postoperative language recovery, as increased white matter connectivity inthe corpus callosum is described in musicians compared to non-musicians. Hence,in Chapter 7 we evaluate the effect of musicality on language recovery after awakeglioma surgery in a cohort study of forty-six patients. We divided the patients intothree groups based on the musicality and compared the language scores between thesegroups. With the first study on this topic, we support that musicality protects againstlanguage decline after awake glioma surgery, as a trend towards less deterioration oflanguage was observed within the first three months on the phonological domain (p= 0.04). This seemed plausible as phonology shares a common hierarchical structurebetween language and singing. Moreover, our results support the hypothesis ofmusicality induced contralateral compensation in the (sub-) acute phase through thecorpus callosum as the largest difference of size was found in the anterior corpuscallosum in non- musicians compared to trained musicians (p = 0.02).In Chapter 8 we addressed musicality as a sole brain function and whether it canbe protected during awake craniotomy in a systematic review consisting of tenstudies and fourteen patients. Isolated music disruption, defined as disruption duringmusic tasks with intact language/speech and/or motor functions, was identified intwo patients in the right superior temporal gyrus, one patient in the right and onepatient in the left middle frontal gyrus and one patient in the left medial temporalgyrus. Pre-operative functional MRI confirmed these localizations in three patients.Assessment of post-operative musical function, only conducted in seven patients bymeans of standardized (57%) and non-standardized (43%) tools, report no loss ofmusical function. With these results we concluded that mapping music is feasibleduring awake craniotomy. Moreover, we identified certain brain regions relevant formusic production and detected no decline during follow-up, suggesting an addedvalue of mapping musicality during awake craniotomy. A systematic approach to mapmusicality should be implemented, to improve current knowledge on the added valueof mapping musicality during awake craniotomy.<br/
- β¦