Tag: Transformation

  • THE TRANSFORMATIONAL QUALITY OF MUSIC (PART TWO)

    In my most recent post, I related how I was pointed in the direction of this topic and I gave a bit of personal history which illustrated why music’s transformational quality rings true for me. Now I’d like to broaden support for the concept by showing what others have said and experienced.

    Historical Perspectives

    The Moody Blues set the table for this discussion in their album Every Good Boy Deserves Favour and their lead-off song Procession. They hearken back to the origin of the universe itself and the eventual arrival of the human race with musical sounds meant to convey these events. A singer first proclaims “Desolation!” Then “Creation!” We then hear a drumbeat on skins, followed by “Communication” in a more melodic voice. We hear voices of primitive humans and that morphs into sitars, then a tune with flutes, then a harpsichord in perhaps the Renaissance. Ominously, a churchy organ comes in, then more pleasant strings. Suddenly, we hear modern electric guitar and the full Moody Blues band. They move into the song The Story in Your Eyes. One line there says, “And the sound we make together is the music to the story in your eyes.”

    Throughout our history we’ve been feeling the effects of rhythms and vibrating instruments. Their sounds enter our ear drums, sending signals to our brains that make us feel pleasure or a wide array of other emotions. We are lifted to our feet and we communicate our feelings in dance or vocal response.

    Plato expressed in the third or fourth century B.C.E. how music can move us.

    Long before, Indian classical music was being chanted for the purpose of inspiring merger of the individual with the Creator and Sustainer of all life. The website indianclassicalmusic.com states in its article History of Indian Classical Music, “The origin of Indian classical music dates back to the Vedic times and reference of the concept of Nadabrahma is found during this time. Chants and a system of musical notes along with rhythmic cycles are found in vedic scriptures dated 6,000 years ago. Ancient text Samveda, containing organized music, was structured to melodic themes. Samaveda is called the veda of music and is considered to have provided the foundation for Indian music.” The ancient form developed through the 11th century C.E. It continued to evolve and still does.

    European classical music began in the 17th century with the Baroque era. The impact on listeners in the
    West was profound, as is shown in these ecstatic comments:

    Moving on to the 20th century, we see how music transformed people in ways quite different from earlier forms. The PBS program History Detectives produced a piece on 20th century music. One statement stands out to me the most in our context.

    “The most important influence on 20th century music? African Americans and the musical culture they brought to this country – developed within the bonds of slavery.

    ‘Even before the 20th century began, blues music was evolving across the country out of the traditional African slave spirituals, work calls and chants. Of all the developing genres, the blues would be the most far-reaching, with its influence felt in everything from jazz to rock, country music to rhythm and blues, and classical music.

    ‘That said, jazz’s influence on the world music scene would be nothing short of transformational. Jazz saw its early development in the African American communities all throughout the South – with rhythms reflecting the diversity of cultural influences from West Africa to the West Indies, from ragtime to the blues.”

    I marvel at the change blues brings to the player and the listener. I won’t say the effect is the same for everyone on any given song, but what amazes me is that most often the blues are rooted in pain and yet their expression uplifts us in spirit.

    Music and the Brain

    For reasons I don’t fully understand, music and the brain partner beautifully for our well-being. In an article by Ted Gioia on honest-broker.com, he shows us how the right hemisphere of the brain relates to music. The following excerpt sums it up for me.

    “For our purposes here, it’s more important to focus on the two very different ways our competing hemispheres have of changing the world. For the left hemisphere, we change the world by manipulating and controlling it. For the right hemisphere, we go out into the larger environment and transform both ourselves and our world in a way that feels more like merging or transcending. That is precisely the hero’s journey described in this book, and songs are better tools for that transformation than a hammer or a gun.

    ‘In other words, musicians really do have a higher potential, perhaps even a heroic one. A song can be much more than a song. Maybe it ought to be.”

    Science can shine a light on how seemingly magical phenomena works in our lives. And so it is.

  • THE TRANSFORMATIONAL QUALITY OF MUSIC

    I was sitting with my fellow singers in our church choir, listening to our director rehearse his TEDx talk he would be delivering soon at the University of Arizona. He is a professor of music there. He and another person do a podcast called Lifetimes of Listening. He’s a musician. Music is a huge part of his life. The subject of his talk is how music makes you a better person.

    Hearing him discuss his premise was interesting, but when he reached the part about music having a transformative effect on people, my ears perked up. I hadn’t really looked at music from that perspective. It struck me as an exciting possibility. I couldn’t help but examine my own experience for clues as to the truth of this view.

    A Personal Search

    I recall being in the family kitchen when I was about five, and the radio was blaring out Yellow Rose of Texas. It was a huge hit in 1955. The song didn’t make much of an impression on me, but it may be the first song that lodged in my memory banks permanently. There were other songs of that time getting airplay on our local radio station in farming country of Pennsylvania or on TV’s Hit Parade. Nothing grabbed me, though.

    The first one which did came in 1958. I would have been in third grade, I think. It was Donna, sung by Ritchie Valens. It so happened I had a crush on a girl named Donna and the song hit the charts at the same time. I was injected with an early dose of puppy love and teen angst well ahead of puberty.

    The next song to really touch me was Old Shep by Elvis Presley. It was about a boy and his faithful dog that eventually grew old and died. I seem to remember crying when I heard that tune.

    In the early ’60s, the Four Seasons came out with Sherry. The Frankie Valli falsetto and the group’s harmonies with the strong back beat captured my imagination and any girl I met named Sherry after that was in a special, idyllic category.

    These three songs stand out in my memory. They resonated with me deeply, or so it seemed in my early youth. Were they transformative for me? I have to believe they just struck a chord with me that was already waiting to be plucked. It wasn’t until the Beatles hit the scene with I Want to Hold Your Hand that any music transformed me in some way.

    That song and many of their later hits sounded strange to me. They didn’t appeal to some nostalgic notion or even generate excitement on a form with which I was already familiar to capture my interest. Well, they did use rock n’ roll basics and themes I knew and enjoyed. However, they made it sound different, disagreeable really. I think it was a combination of more sophisticated chords and unique melodies that did it for me. Whatever it was, it caught my offended ear. With each listening, their songs took me along an unfamiliar path into a clearing where the sun filtered down with a fresh new light and sound took on a Bohemian effect I could come to understand only by opening myself.

    I stood at a crossroad, where I could reject what I was hearing or embrace it. To reject it meant maintaining the status quo of a world where Elvis and Budweiser were kings and my hair froze in a crewcut. To embrace it would lead me to freedom of expression and an influx of new ideas with new ways of seeing the world. I took the latter fork and was transformed.

    Next

    So, that was me. One example. To thoroughly explore this theory, we need to see what others have experienced. We need to consult the analyses of those who are more expert than me. Thus, we’ll carry this on in my next installment, soon to come.