What is it about music that stirs within me
Emotions of such varying colours and profound depths?
From those so long off days sitting with Dad,
Listening to the records spinning on the turntable,
Watching the awe on his face at the sounds
Being produced from a needle on the surface,
Of this large, round piece of plastic.
The power of the sound reaching into his heart ;
And mine.
That day we went together to a class,
And the man said to me, “Singing is only another instrument”
Opening my closed mind to the wonder of the voice in music.
A new world of wonder was now mine to enjoy.
The operas of Verdi, the Masses of Haydn;
The joy that listening to a Bach Cantata, brings to my soul
So much beautiful music, hidden from me
Because of my prejudiced, stubborn view of the voice.
My idea that music died with Brahms was a sham
When a friend said, listen to this, and opened my world
To the Appalachian world of Copland.
My blinkered sight changed yet again!
The music of most composers have space on my shelves;
That Fast Ride with John Adam, so thrilling;
The sparse music of Glass transforms me
Into moments of pure ecstasy no words can explain.
Messiaen, I once despised, but The End of Time
Sent shivers through me, so very, very moving when
Remembering the context from where it was created.
The String Quartet, a genre listened to many times
Confused me! It was hard to come to terms in my mind
To this music played by four instruments
I then LISTENED, and again I was hooked
Mainly by Dmitri and Ludwig,
But yet again Phillip transformed me.
Music, it has been there all my life.
I know so much, but realise
The more I know,
The more ignorant I am
And then there’s All that Jazz!
For another time and written in Swing.