I'm just a passing through
My treasures are laid up
Somewhere beyond the blue...
It's hard to disagree with these sentiments but there are some here-and-now-treasures that I figure I will never forget even come eternity. Certain experiences like that walk along the coast from Lee Abbey, or a panorama that opens up on reaching a mountain summit, a riot of flowers, strawberries sprinkled with sugar, falling in love and its consummation, slipping naked into the sea or a mountain lake, running barefoot through grassy river meadows. And music...
If ever there was quintessential humanity it is in music. It seems that the human psyche is preconditioned to appreciate what we call music. Scientists try to understand this in terms of evolutionary advantage, which music does not seem to have. Or is it that music can in fact actually transcend mere humanity as when at the very dawn of history the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy or at that singularity of divine purpose suddenly there was with the angle a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!" Is it after all the prime medium whereby we worship so it must be capable of prising a crack in the heavenlies.
Apparently not everyone experiences frisson aka the chills when listening to music. My friend Flavia describes this feeling very well when, attending her mother's funeral, she says: the organ swelled into a song of triumph, the glorious music causing me to feel suddenly as if caterpillars were crawling up my spine. They say this frisson is the result of a dopamine release caused by the brain as it anticipates patterns it recognises in music.
Often I pass through the kitchen here and the cooks have an electronic gizmo playing Goodness Knows What through a tinny loudspeaker. IMHO and in mild disgust this muzak seems to me mere noise being used to fill a void. But then my hearing is poor. My ultra reverence for serious music does not acknowledge background "music", which foible of mine tends to restrict the amount and type I listen to.
I've always been fascinated by the aeolian harp. Although man-made to be harmonic, it is played by the wind and so, to some degree, the sound it makes is random, so can it be called music? For music it must be, in that it gives us the chills, it stirs one's heart-strings. So there we have it - music reaches into the heavens and at the same time reaches into our innermost being.
Of course I'm only talking about "good" music. But it seems that what's good for one person may be bad for another and who am I to judge? Besides, I've noticed with music, or a novel, indeed any art form - you have to go beyond the first impression in order to fully enjoy it. Good art has depth. Which reinforces the idea of anticipation. It's hard to anticipate something that is alien.
The longest running BBC Radio 4 program Desert Island Discs has been on the air since January 1942. In it the castaway gets to choose eight recordings (usually music), a book and a luxury item to take to his or her desert island in addition to the Complete Works of Shakespeare and the Bible (etc.) and, one supposes, food. A tantalizingly short excerpt of each recording is played, but the interesting part is what and why the choices. So far they haven't invited me to the program. I think I know why.
What music would you choose? I can go along with the three "absolute favourites" in this video clip and readers of this blog will know that I would add at least Bruckner's eighth. And maybe Handel's Messiah. Most of my choices would be so called "classical" but I might add some Simon and Garfunkel. Maybe even some hymn tunes for their harmony. And, talking about the Emperor concerto, I really liked Alina Berco's performance.
Music can be so rich, so perfect, so evocative, so uplifting, sublime, fantastic, almost too good to be true. Like Golden Syrup or Evaporated milk but so much better and with much longer lasting effect. I'd be sad if heaven excluded it.
No comments:
Post a Comment