Journal 4: الموسيقى

I don’t even know where to begin.

I could start with the years of piano lessons, of voice lessons, or of the journey from my first note on a French horn, to my competitive high school years, to a position on Ohio’s All-State Band.  Or I could go the choral route and watch me develop from an awkward elementary-schooler singing in the shower to a college soloist.  Or I could explain to you the detailed (and sometimes still quite painful) decision process that led me to major in something other than music.  I could even bring it right up to the present and talk about that first full summer of sweating and screaming that allowed me to march here at OSU.

I think I’d rather start, though, with the trip from Pennsylvania to Ohio, when I was one and a half years old.  My dad held me on his lap as we climbed 1000 feet into the air, when he heard a sound at his chest.  He leaned in to listen, and found that I had been humming along to the pitch that the plane’s motor was making.  I think that says more about me and the role that music plays in my life than any other story I could tell you.  I cannot imagine my life without it.  It is easier and better than words.

Seeing programs like the East/West Divan Orchestra in Israel and Palestine, El Sistema in Venezuela, and the Kimbanguist Symphony Orchestra in Congo gives me so much hope.  As person who studies language, I have engrained in my mind an appreciation for the conservation of languages- each a system of communication with a unique worldview embedded within.  This idea can be extended to music, which is a system of communication that describes the parts of the human experience that words cannot describe.

Many speakers and experts on the Israeli- Palestinian conflict have commented on the necessity of listening; each side must learn to listen and to see the validity in the arguments of the other side.  Listening is not much of a choice in an ensemble.  In order for a flute to be in tune with the rest of the group, he/she must be constantly be listening to the tuba player in the very back of the room.  It is only through this kind of communication that the group can successfully relate their message to the audience.  I know that seems sort of obscure in a conflict-resolution setting, but there is something about working hard towards a common goal that brings people together in ways they may not even be aware of.

That brings me to the sappy part.  I have always been aware of how music affects people, mostly because I have been involved in music groups my whole life, but I can honestly say that I don’t know many other forces powerful enough to drive men three times my size to tears, or bond the people who would become my closest friends, or be the common form of worship found all over the world, or heal a person in despair.

I have so many meaningful pieces to share, but I picked one (you’re welcome for not boring you):

My grandpa, who fought in WWII, left us with a song that I have had to choke through many times. 

In context, it is sort of a recognition of our smallness in the midst of a giant celebration, and a prayer for my military friends today.

Sorry for the bad quality: It was the best youtube had!!