Multivitamin Time: Music for the Soul
The daily stream of assaults from the regime seemed abstract and distant at first, but now they are affecting almost all of us in very personal ways. My experience is that they are becoming more impactful by the day -- the cumulative effect is exhausting.
Social psychologists confirm our own experience that people cope in very different ways; some of those strategies are generally more adaptive (e.g., problem-focused coping) than others (e.g., avoidance), but it all depends on the situation. Few discussions of healthy coping directly mention something that is hiding in plain sight: music.
On this Substack, I have discussed the healing powers of music several times. Here are links to the 4 essays I have published to date on this topic. Take a look; they each have links to some great (IMHO) music:
"Music That Moves Me: On the Power of Music" 8-8-2024 LINK
https://halgrotevant.substack.com/p/music-that-moves-me
"I'm Alive: Music is My Multivitamin" 10-7-2024 LINK
https://halgrotevant.substack.com/p/im-alive
"Keep on Keeping On" 11-4-2024 LINK
https://halgrotevant.substack.com/p/keep-on-keepin-on
"On Singing: From 'Hallelujah' to 'Coraggio' " 12-30-2024 LINK
https://halgrotevant.substack.com/p/on-singing-from-hallelujah-to-coraggio
Music helps me stay centered. I turn to it when the stress of the news gets to be too much. I call on specific songs or artists for solace, energy, courage, or connection, just to name a few of the vitamins that I seek from time to time.
But sometimes, I just want to hear something pure and beautiful.
So today, I would like to share with you a recent discovery that I find pure and beautiful.
The piece was new to me, recently heard in the car over the local classical music station. I heard the announcer introduce it, and it immediately grabbed me. I worked hard to remember the title as I was driving home, and fortunately I did. (I also knew I could rely on the station's playlist on their website, if I mis-remembered it. Good to have multiple strategies for remembering things, but I digress...)
"Spirit of Trees," Sonata for Harp and Guitar, Op. 374, was written in 1983 by Alan Hovhaness (1911 - 2000). According to the detailed and informative website about him, Hovhaness was born Alan Vaness Chakmakjian in Somerville, Massachusetts. He attended Tufts and received his musical training at the New England Conservatory of Music. As a developmental psychologist, I found the bio on his website (by Marco Shirodkar, linked here) fascinating. Here's an interesting tidbit about his musical beginnings:
Without any special encouragement, Hovhaness was drawn to music by the age of 4 and received his first piano lessons around the age of 7, by which time he was already improvising and composing with his own notation. He claimed to have sometimes composed secretly at night in his early years, and nocturnal creativity was certainly the norm for much of his life. In interview he once said "My family thought writing music was abnormal, so they would confiscate my music if they caught me in the act. I used to compose in the bathroom and hide the manuscripts under the bathtub."
Hovhaness went on to compose over 500 pieces for various instruments, ensembles, and voice, influenced by a fascinating and unique mix of influences from Armenia (his father's country), Japan, Greece, India, and others. Nature was also an inspiration, as can be seen in his Symphony No. 2, "Mysterious Mountain," which is considered his best-known work. He loved the mountains of Switzerland and the Pacific Northwest as well as the smaller mountains of New England. Many of his works had "mystical and religious preoccupations." His biographer asserted that his music was "quite capable of transporting the listener from everyday quotidian time to inner or otherworldly contemplation." Maybe that's why his pieces resonate so strongly with me. I am truly happy that my chance car-radio-encounter with "Spirit of Trees" the other day led me to a deeper connection to his body of work. I will be exploring it in more depth.
I found this description of his work style fascinating (from the bio on his website):
Hovhaness devoted himself to full-time composition as early as it was financially feasible, around the mid-1950s, even though composers usually established themselves once an academic appointment was secured. Hovhaness could compose in the midst of noise and activity, by just shutting-off the outside world. Music was forever going on in his head; ideas would "persecute" him if he did not write them down. He probably had the condition known as hypergraphia - an overwhelming urge to create on a daily basis. Even in a restaurant he would pull-up a napkin to jot ideas on, and almost all photographs of him show a writing implement or two at-the-ready in his breast pocket. He once spoke of writing fugues "to keep myself occupied" - he may well have written more fugues than any other 20th century composer.
I can only imagine what he might have done with a smart phone or tablet connected to the internet 24/7! Maybe he'd even have a Substack or Patreon page featuring his latest musical ideas. I would certainly like, follow, and share.
Following his death, Seattle Symphony conductor Gerard Schwarz said the following to the Seattle Times:
"He was trying to add beauty and sensitivity to the world. He cared deeply about goodness and about nature, and he has had a tremendous impact. I've known Alan since 1963 ... throughout it all, even in the times when his music wasn't so fashionable, he stuck to his thinking and to his distinctive style, which had a passion and also a great reserve. He stood out. Alan was amazing ... he was one of the great composers of our time".
In his own words:
My purpose is to create music not for snobs, but for all people, music which is beautiful and healing. To attempt what old Chinese painters called 'spirit resonance' in melody and sound.
--Alan Hovhaness
Beautiful and healing, indeed!
So without further ado, I am pleased to present this recording of "Spirit of Trees." I hope you find it "beautiful and healing," as I have. This recording features Yolanda Kondonassis, harp and David Leisner, guitar (duration: 23:21) Sit in a comfy chair and just let it flow around you.
I'm happy to hear your thoughts about this piece and about any other works of Hovhaness with which you might be familiar. Before beginning to write this essay, my knowledge of him and his body of work was pretty thin. I am now eager to learn more about him as a person and his large output. I'm thrilled to find inspiration in a composer whose self-stated purpose is to create music that is "beautiful and healing." I also wish you both beauty and healing in abundance.
Excellent!
Dear Hal, happy morming...and thank you for the musical invitation to dance with the trees. I was transported to a magical place of tree-self-expression, if you will. Hovhaness is a kind of medium, tappng into, and expressing, the voice of the trees. What is it the trees wish for us to hear? This is it. I was transported, I heard - and more importantly, felt - their shift in mood and personalities; and even various climatic events (i.e., wind and rain and sunshine dancing on the branches).
It reminds me of the road I take to the top of Sandia Mountain here in Albuquerque. Meandering up a windy, back-side-of-the-mountain road to get to the top at 10,300 (or more) feet soaring high above the dusty city below! The front side of the mountain, facing ABQ, is rocky and jagged and traversed by a tram car. Getting to the top, looking out one can, they say, see for a hundred miles in all directions. And looking down, one could feel the drop of the canverns depth in one's very own stomach! But driving up the back of Sandia is like venturing into a hidden realm, the land of the trees. THIS is what I felt when the tress sang through Hovhaness.
I, from time to time, feel that a veil has lifted, and I can see them for who they are; selfless, serving, agents of love. Never bringing attention to themselves but quietly providing beauty and shelter and the elements of our very life-giving breath. All the while, we (humans) rarely, if ever, say thank you. I've taken to saying thank you to them, when I see them - and have the presence of mind to say so. Today, in this beautifully magical piece, I heard them. I just want to say thank you to Hovhaness, who channeled them, and to you, Hal, who shared this beauty.