Music and the Heart

"Music and the Heart"
May 2000

    I've been around music all my life. I guess that's true of most of us one
way or another. I mean, we hear music, sometimes see it performed, and a few
of us are performers of music. My father was a musician all of my growing up
and adult life, so I listened with a special attention that musicians and
those who are close to them develop after a time.
    I've used music in various ways, for romance, to make a living (I was a
DJ for about 15 years) to sooth myself, as background, as foreground, to
celebrate my joy, to underline my sorrow, to enhance movement (dance) in
myself and others, in the experiential workshops we do, and to provoke and
sustain a level of feeling in me which otherwise might pass too quickly. Pass
before I have the opportunity to know its origin, purpose and its potential
to heal.
    Here's an example of the latter: "On the Occasion of My 64th Birthday" is
the title of a letter I wrote last week to my family. It was prompted by the
realization that I wanted to give THEM a gift. A gift of heart.
    A feeling accompanied this thought, but it was an ephemeral thing. A
butterfly of imagining and it tended to want to flutter away. I have found
that if I want a feeling to stay around awhile it's best that I find a piece
of music that will seduce it to stay. Not any piece will do, it has to be
something that has a resonance with my heart. I can name a few that stick in
my memory; a Stan Getz/ Woody Herman rendition of "What Are You Doing The
Rest of Your Life?" is one. Getz's playing here is so touching, so
passionate, that it moves me to tears over and over again no matter how often
I listen to it.
    Luciano Pavorotti singing "Nessun dorma" takes me to the same place, and
the song that kept me in the space to write that letter to my family was Jo
Stafford (a Big Band singer of the 40's-50's) singing "Shenandoah". I must
have played it twenty times during the time I wrote and it kept my heart open
and communicative the whole time.
    There is no particular kind of music that possesses this power. But all
three of these pieces, though they come from very different "schools", have
one thing in common; there is a texture or a sound that calls to the emotion
of loving.
Some music can call to feelings of power and exultation, The "Ode to Joy" and
the "1812 Overture" in the classical repertory and, "Fuego Cubano" by Stan
Kenton from jazz. There's the call to poignancy that is evoked by Billy
Holidays later version of: "Don't Worry 'Bout Me", Ella Fitzgeralds slow
version of "Lady Be Good and the seldom heard, beautifully lyrical "Never
Never Land" by alto sax man Herb Geller. There's the Bob Hope vocal of;
"Thanks for the Memory" that he first sang in a movie that has sunk into
obscurity while the song, which became his theme, lived on. And, the song
that hits most people in exactly the same way and is always a heartbreaker;
Judy Garlands; "Over the Rainbow". It works in spades when done by her
daughter Liza.
    There are hundreds of pieces we could talk about and discover that will
do this emotional evoking for each of us and I'll bet that no matter what the
type of music, most of us would respond in exactly the same way to that
mysterious element that calls to the parts of us that otherwise flit in and
out of mind and feeling.
That's the power of music and poetry. Composers, musicians and writers know
the way it works and can call in that power in their composing, arranging and
performance. We can learn to use the power of music to enhance what we know
and feel anytime we want to take the risk of dwelling in one of those places
for a time. It's not in the words of the piece, it's the tone and the
presentation, and the certain placing of notes; a sharp here and a flat
there, that do the work.
Try "Shenandoah" sometime and see where it takes you. This is where it took
me a couple of weeks ago:
"Dear family;
    The gifts I receive from you today will pass away with time and use, but
the gifts you have given me over these years and days we have spent together
fill me beyond my ability to respond with a "thank you". They are the gifts
that fill my heart and nourish my soul. They are the gifts of Selinas' hug
and Honors' sweet kiss. The gifts of a warm day with Lia without a single tug
of war between us. Just an open-eyed experiencing of one another without
judgement or critique.
    And my woman, my lover, my wife, my friend; to be gifted with you is a
wonder I open every day. Your letters, your notes, your heart wanting to be
next to mine, these are the precious metals and gems of a value beyond any
earthly measure.
    I am filled with you all, so much so I cannot begin to tell you in words
how important your presence is in my life. Sometimes only in deeds, in the
doing of some task, can I send my message of caring. Sometimes only the
silent tears I allow in alone moments, speak to me of how deeply I have taken
you into my heart.
Once, I put away loving. Fearful, I locked it in a "safe" place so I could
not be lost again. With you, because of you, I have reopened that place, I
have unwrapped my deep desire and willingness to love. This gift I will have
forever; and it will never tarnish or be worn away. As the years go on it
will, through use, only gleam more brightly.
Each of you in your own way, has become my new and ever lasting treasure.
Your place in my heart grows larger and deeper with each passing day. I thank
you for making every day of my new life with you, a gift to be opened and
lived more fully than was ever possible before we came together. This is my
Happy Birthday gift to you, to me and to us."
I recommend a musical journey anytime you want your heart to be a powerful
presence in your life. Anytime you want to hold that butterfly of feeling in
the palm of your hand and know its beauty.

Coyote On Coyote - More about Coyote by Dick Prosapio

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