If the Tower of Babel created misunderstanding, then music is surely the universal gift of tongues spoken of in the story of the Holy Spirit descending on Pentecost.
How much I daily listen to song sung in languages I have no ability to decipher -- whether vocal or instrumental -- and how little that matters to my enjoyment. Sometimes -- much of the time -- it adds to my enjoyment not to be caught up in stories built of imprecise words.
And yet...there are certain notes when played a certain way that will evoke tears no matter where you live, no matter what remote part of the world you call home.
There are certain notes when played a certain way that will evoke goosebumps of joy no matter who you are.
The artist Wassily Kandinsky once said that music was the most pure of all the arts and that writing and painting, all the rest, are constantly struggling to do what music does naturally, without effort and without fail.
So as I sat in awe -- truly -- of Dave Brubeck this past Sunday evening, it made sense to me that we were experiencing musical transcendence on Pentecost.
Dave Brubeck is in his 90th year. He had to be escorted to the stage where he sat on a padded chair rather than on a bench at the big, black, beautiful baby grand in the center of a simple stage setting comprised of a few rugs and backed by silver glittering streamers.
He was accompanied, as always, by a bass, drums, and a sax. Toward the end of the evening, his son joined him on stage to play his jazz cello. It was like getting whipped cream on a cake that already had ganache frosting.
Dave Brubeck, a man who changed jazz and all of music, had only played the piano once in the past two months due to illness. We were lucky to see him. We may have been witnessing one of his last concerts.
As he came out, I worried. Were we to see a legend diminished? Would it feel...embarrassing?
Then his fingers touched the keys and he took us away from the material world and into the magical mystery that is music as composed and played by genius.
Far from seeing his powers diminished, I was witnessing a man fully engaged in his gift, radiating joy and generosity. A man free of his ego and immersed in Grace.
Dave Brubeck at the piano is the fully embodied Dave Brubeck.
This is living your bliss.
This is Ground Luminosity.
This is humanity enraptured, captivating to those of us around him, almost blinded by his brilliance.
Oh, to reach 90 and to have lived such an actualized existence.
What could we do today to polish our diamond nature, to be souls on fire fueled by passion?
2 comments:
In the movie "Heaven Can Wait", Warren Beatty (Joe Pendleton) and James Mason (Mr. Jordan from heaven), and Jack Warden as Max Corkle are key players.
Pendleton lived for football and expected to take the LA Rams to the Superbowl. Corkle announced Joe got the job as quarterback.
Joe went on a bike through a tunnel (getting in shape riding), and the lights went out in a massive car/truck/bike crash.
His angel, Buck Henry, took Joe to heaven.
Joe argued he had football to play, and Mr. Jordan was called to settle this.
Lo and behold, Joe was right, and due to report to heaven in 50 years.
"He must be returned to his body at once", said Jordan.
The body had been cremated and was no longer available. Joe needed another body, and was furious that he spent so much time getting HIS body in shape.
Joe accepted the body of Mr. Farnworth (a wealthy industrialist) temporarily, until a permanent body could be found, when someone died. He intended on getting Farnworth's body in shape and get to the Super Bowl.
LA Rams would not hear of it, so Joe/Farnsworth BOUGHT the team.
He needed his body trained anew and called for Max, his original trainer and coach.
Max could only "see" Farnsworth; not Joe Pendleton, the quarterback who "died".
Max listened to the plans of Farnsworth to get to the Superbowl, and thought he was a nut.
Mr. Jordan appeared, but only Joe could see him.
Joe begged Jordan to convince Max to train him.
Joe twisted Max's neck to relieve pain,...just as he did long ago. Joe told Max secrets of Max's sister, that only Joe knew.
Max was disoriented more and more, for he knew Joe was dead, but this Farnworth knew "Joe stuff".
"How will I ever convince Max, Mr. Jordan? He doesn't believe me that I am Joe".
Throughout the movie, Joe played wind instruments to a goofy tune, unique in all its notes. The tenor sax was on the side and Mr. Jordan answered like this:
"Play a little music, Joe".
Joe/Farnworth grabbed the instrument and began to belt out those crazy string of notes that only Joe Pendleton could play.
Max knew, he just knew that this stranger before him was the real Joe Pendleton, and the quest to rebuild a body and win the Superbowl began anew... with bunches more subplots.
"Play a little music, Joe"
Generations are bound for life by music.
Gershwin. Dorsey.
Elvis Presley.
Beatles.
Led Zepplin.
Backstreet Boys.
Avril.
Each has a contemporary following that takes hold in the memory and life of those, who were hearing their youth return in an octave of "heart-food", and "soul developer".
From "Heaven Can Wait" the movie, to "Stairway To Heaven", the Zeppelin masterpiece, music lifts us higher in our souls and transcends our spirits into another world.
Few cultural habits are international, but I suspect that singing in the shower may be one.
This was one of the finest posts I have read combining greatness in music, tongues of fire and passion from Pentecost, and music as the staff that holds all the notes being touched in an organized soul crafting device.
The Sounds of Silence for this entire day in Comments has been a most baffling experience for me.
I maintain a folder in my laptop called
"GOOD WRITING".
I slung this post in it this morning. The post truly deserves at least ONE comment by nightfall.
I miss the jazz combos and tiny dancing floor behind the old Howard Johnson's Restaurant at 8th and Peninsula. You went in the back entrance to a night of musical transformation, and many of the best dates of my life were spent moving inches above the dance floor, as the three piece jazz combo lifted my
date(s) and I higher, as we danced.
Danny, Thank you for the compliment about the writing in this piece. It felt very "inspired" when I wrote it.
I sat down filled with things to say about the experience but not knowing exactly HOW to say it, so it felt like one of those times when you aren't really in control. Very cool.
And I have to say, I WAS a little surprised that I'd gotten not a single comment. :( Weird. So extra big thanks to you. :)
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