Joan and I recently enjoyed a wonderful evening at a nearby restaurant where our choir director performs on the weekends, together with my friends and fellow musicians from our church choir.
Naturally, the topic of music, why we play it, and how we got started as musicians came up at the table. 1964 was when mine began. As Graham Nash famously said, “You’re lying if you say you didn’t get into music to attract girls.”
Then I’m a liar, to use the lyrics of a Henry Rollins song.
For I was far too bashful to consider the impact that playing or singing could have on a lady my age. Being the lone child was part of that. Our superpower is that we only have kids. Our capacity for amusement is limitless. We’ll be ready to go if you put us in a room with some books, musical instruments, a multi-track tape recorder, or any pictures that need to be cleaned up or made brighter. I suppose you can do most of those tasks on your phone or iPad these days, but the concept remains the same. We’re OK by ourselves, and when we’re not, we go out and enjoy ourselves with our pals. After that, it’s back to the lab to write, journal, or sing about it. In order to recall that the experience was real, we must somehow document it.
We play, but why? Everybody’s experience is different, I’m sure. I get to spend time with music, which is quite valuable to me. Not everyone is capable of making a piece of wood and string sing. Not everyone has the ability to breathe life into notes on paper. Not everyone can hear the music in their brain when they look at a music score. All of us are extremely fortunate. We are blessed to be able to preserve music while we are here on Earth, as it is a gift from God or the gods.
Additionally, in the words of Pete Townshend, “Music will definitely take the mind where minds can’t normally go.” I adore the places that music takes me. Even when I’m disturbing my neighbors by turning up my Peavey amp to a Stones, Who, or Yardbirds tune, it’s a haven of peace and confidence. I’m able to connect with the song’s creator’s mind and soul through this incredible voyage. Because I know exactly where I am at all times and what I am supposed to do, I am a much more confident and composed person while I am playing music than I am in other stages of my life. For this reason, for me, being in a band is/was a huge part of growing up. It not only helped me make friends that I still keep in touch with, like musical siblings, which is very important to an only child, but it also taught me other qualities like attentive listening, teamwork, compromise, and excellent sportsmanship.
Let me add that, although though I am using music as a point of reference, this is true of all the arts, including dance, theater, visual arts, journalism, and teaching. To achieve their goal, which is typically to enlighten and pleasure, even solitary creative expressions like some types of literature, carpentry, sculpting, or choreography must eventually be shared with someone. We can express our creativity joyfully even with items we never plan to share.
If we’re lucky, we can share our happiness with others, who typically return the favor by sharing their own delights. This establishes a connection between the audience and the performer, as well as between the presenter and the audience. Despite decades of discussion and writing about this connection, we never quite get it right. It does not follow that we should avoid talking about something just because it is ineffable by nature.
The sense that God is putting his hand on our shoulder and telling us, “This is who you truly are,” is the true beauty of all the arts. Even if we are not the best people, we are at our best when we are creating. The question of whether you can appreciate the work of an artist who has committed horrible acts as a person also always comes up.
Giving up listening to P Diddy or R Kelly is not even a problem for me because I am not a fan of the music. However, I continue to like the works of Woody Allen, who committed a morally reprehensible act, and Michael Jackson, who was cleared of all charges.
Because they are human, I believe that all artists have flaws. There were times when even the people I like the most behaved in an abhorrent manner. There are degrees, once more. Physically attacking or sexually frightening someone is not the same as being impolite to a fan or declining to sign an autograph. While I regret what Woody Allen and Kevin Spacey may or may not have done, I cannot discount their inventiveness because, once again, I have a tendency to view things through a lens of seriousness.
This column focuses on the beauty of the creative process. The reason behind our actions.
I suppose it’s because, being an only kid, it allows me to interact with like-minded others who share my enthusiasm and love of the arts. As I become older, I discover that I particularly appreciate the art of those whose expressiveness I could never hope to emulate. I am unable to use a ruler to draw a straight line, build a ceiling, work in a kiln or sculpt, sing opera, or dance the tango. I am incapable of painting, drawing, building, or imagining a room that does not already exist.
However, I am rather adept at navigating a 4/4 blues shuffle.
Enjoy the arts, even if you’re only thinking about it, and hold those lovely gray heads high!
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