I Hear Music

“Music hath Charms to soothe a savage Breast,” wrote the poet William Congreve in 1697, “To soften Rocks, or bend a knotted Oak.”

As a single phrase from his poem, The Mourning Bride, it falls far short in describing the magical, mystical properties that belong to the universal language that is music.

As I look back at my life, after my family and worldly obligations, nothing is more important than those moments spent with music. As a listener, student, performer and writer, music has been a source of grounding, camaraderie and livelihood. I’ve had the extraordinary privilege of meeting and hearing musical artists at every level of accomplishment, and I’ve cultivated friendships with people that have endured more than five decades.

I’m still in touch with Terry Applebaum, my percussion teacher when I was studying music at Northwestern University as a high schooler. It was he who sent me notifications from the U.S. Department of Educations about a pair of days earmarked to celebrate orchestra conductors and band directors. To thank them is to acknowledge the influence that their very beings have been to all of us who took up the tonette in third grade and picked an instrument of our choosing the following year.

While I can’t remember a single group study session from my school days, I can remember the hours spent jamming with like-minded friends or listening to endless plays of “All Blues,” the 1959 seminal Miles Davis composition with John Coltrane, Cannonball Adderley and Bill Evans. More than sixty years later, the album ranks number one on my Top-10 list. In my couple years in public high school, I recall getting to school an hour early just to hang out in the band room and play some blues or work out the “rhythm changes” from George Gershwin. I can’t think of anybody getting to geometry class any earlier than they had to, let alone test out extra theorems or study the early years of Euclid.

In its release, the Dept. of Education wrote “Take a bow, orchestra educators! You help students realize their love of music by expertly guiding them, shaping a cacophony of clarinets, cellos, & cymbals into beautiful performances created through teamwork & talent.”

Similar kudos were offered Band Directors: “Strike up the band! Thank you for guiding students as they make beautiful music together—from pep bands & marching bands, to concert bands, jazz bands, chamber ensembles, and many other groups.”

Borrowing from the scientific camp, music at almost every level develops from a theory of chaos—making something out of almost nothing. Or, as we like to say in jazz: “It’s a remarkable recovery from a series of accidents.”

Because of its universality, music can serve as a bridge to other cultures and traditions.

In 1999, Daniel Barenboim, the conductor and concert pianist, and the late Palestinian literary scholar Edward W. Said created a workshop for young musicians to promote coexistence and intercultural dialogue. They named the orchestra West-Eastern Divan and created an ensemble comprised of young musicians from Israel and neighboring Arab countries.

Based on this notion of equality, cooperation, and justice for all, the orchestra represents an alternative model to the current situation in the Middle East. The only political aspect that prevails in the orchestra’s work is the conviction that there is no military solution to the Arab-Israeli conflict, and that the destinies of Israelis and Palestinians are inextricably linked.

Sadly, neither Netanyahu nor the leaders of Hamas seem likely audience members, although such a meeting might at least provide a context for peace. From a single page comes melody, harmony and rhythm in unmistakable concert. Unlike drama, there is no need for conflict; there is only a starting point that leads to the coda that echoes through the soul and haunts the imagination.

Without giving it too much thought, many of us take music for granted. The radio hosts the buttons that control the accompaniment of sound as we run our daily errands. Pay services offer all the world’s repertoire for the ask. Sadly, many composers and musicians are being skewered by such services whose rate of pay has been reduced from dollars to cents.

Musicians are frequently asked to take drastic cuts in pay scales for live music. The ridiculous assertion is that “exposure” will come to those musicians playing at your daughter’s wedding.

At almost every school board meeting in America are those who are quick to suggest budget cuts come by scaling back or eliminating the arts programs. I suspect that those soulless folks are also behind book-banning or the adoption of historical papers far more honest than many of the white-leaning revisions of a more pleasant history currently offered.

All aspects of education have intrinsic value. But topping my list comes music. It is there to “soothe a savage Breast.”

Illustration by Courtney A. Liska

Retro salad

This was a pretty common salad in the Midwest in the ‘50s and ‘60s. It was served in restaurants and private homes.

2 strips bacon
3/4 cup mayonnaise
1/2 cup buttermilk
1/4 cup crumbled blue cheese
2 tsp. finely chopped fresh dill (or 1 tsp. dried)
1/2 tsp. Dijon mustard
1 head iceberg lettuce
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 scallions, chopped

Slice bacon crosswise into thin tabs. Sizzle in a cast-iron skillet set over medium-high heat until crispy, about 8 minutes. Scoop out with a slotted spoon. Drain on paper towels and set aside.
Measure mayo, buttermilk, blue cheese, dill and mustard into the food processor. Swirl until smooth.
Carve lettuce into 8 wedges. Cut out and discard core. Place 2 wedges on each of 4 plates.
Season lettuce wedges with salt and pepper. Pour on dressing. Top with scallions and bacon.