Finding Your Melody

My son is leaving. He is on his way out of Utah and taking up residence in Boston while attending Berklee College of Music. To say I am both a mixture of happy and sad is an understatement. One of the things we have in common is our love of music. We both hear it passionately and at least one of us will most likely make a life of music. About 5 years ago, Stuart and I attended a Pat Metheny concert at Kingsbury Hall in Salt Lake City. Pat and his ensemble were debuting his new work "The Way Up" which is a 68 minutes piece in 4 movements. It is jazz, but classical, fusion, but latin, driving, but effortless (here is an excerpt of the introduction of the piece: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ecz3ykm_TRU

I did not know it at the time I attended the concert but Stuart and I were watching his future. Pat Metheny was the youngest professor to teach at Berklee and has a doctorate from there. The drummer, Antonio Sanchez, is a graduate of Berklee. Lyle Mays, Pat's longtime piano player/composer extraordinaire went to Boston to play with Metheny in the 70's and has been an artist in residence at Berklee ever since. The bassist Steve Rudby has also been an artist in residence at Berklee.

The essence of "The Way Up" is really quite a simple. It is the essence of life. After about 4-5 minutes of of driving rhythm played in multiple time signatures 3,4, 5,6,7, etc., Metheny introduces and plays what will be the main theme basically solo in a two against three feel. He finds the melody of the piece that will be played in various ways throughout the remainder of the next three movements. There is frenetic playing, moments of loudness and softness, chaos, pulsing beats in various syncopated times, variations of themes, counter-variations, thesis, antithesis, synthesis, confusion, sadness, melancholy, tranquility, explosions of emotion, technical mastery of complex equations without emotion (5 against 4 for example), noise and quiet, tension from playing over the bar and floating without gravity.

The true essence of musicianship is the essence of a mountain climb, a journey, a practice, a life's work. It is yes. It is no/know. It is spirit and it transcends you and the physical. At the level of a Metheny or a Sanchez, or a Mays or a Rudby, you are a Master. I suspect they would be the first to tell you, besides the endless amount of practice/climbing they have done, that they really cannot explain where the music resides because that place is sacred and they will not speak of it. At this level, space and time become meaningless. You may see them play it in the physical sense and you can certainly hear it, but as the Master you are inside it, you are it. You become a conduit. God or the Universe takes over. When you ask a Master what the essence of it is they can only point to it and say it is up there. They can only direct you toward the top of the mountain. The way up.

After a total literal climax in the third movement which leaves you tired and unable to think, the fourth and final movement built from previous themes eventually surrenders to a clear and uncluttered flowing stream of that simple melody that was found in the beginning--that melodic journey that had a theme and that found wings and began to soar--at times in double time or warp speed and at other times falling like honey, dripping slow. But somehow all the contrasts are the same. Two notes, three notes, endless notes, played endlessly. They become one. In the end, the melody is just played simply. From it's first introduction it has been through up and downs, has been torn apart and put back together again and again. It gets stuck, gets confused, gets lonely (only few journey to the top and this takes getting used to) and then it simply flows as it finds its way up. Find your melody Stuart and become.

More Lantern, Less Bus in the Ditch

History in the United States is short and still moving outward. It is still being written as it expands. I knew a couple of my Great Grandmothers growing up. They were born in the late 1800's. Their parents were alive when Lincoln was President. My Great, Great, Grandfather was alive during the War of 1812. His father saw the birth of our nation.

One of my favorite places to visit is Boston. Not only is it where my oldest daughter Laura lives and attends college, it is where you can walk into living spaces that played and still play out a roll in the founding of our country. Take Christ's Church, better known as the Old North Church, for instance. This is where a young twenty-three year-old Episcopal Sexton, named, Robert Newman, had been directed by Paul Revere and the Sons of Liberty, to climb the tall steeple where he briefly hung two burning lanterns, signaling the direction independence would take. It was by water. Newman climbed a narrow dark stairwell to reach the top. Liberty demands as such. Once the two lanterns were lit, his friends across the Charles River in Lexington and Concord, readied themselves as they knew the British regulars were coming by boat as opposed to marching by land.

It may be an over simplification, but as I understand it, an argument had arisen between the Crown and its colonial subjects over who would represent the voice of the people. Would it be a distant Parliament separated by an ocean or left to the various individual legislatures found in the colonies at that time? The Crown took a hard position because it was powerful and felt it was the best parent for a rebellious child. In fact, Great Britain was the most powerful country at that time. There would be no negotiation. Ben Franklin was sent to England over a period of several years to work a compromise on behalf of the various individual colonies to try to keep the Empire together. After hitting his head against a wall, even he, perhaps one of the greatest minds of the last 400 years, saw the futility of trying to work a solution with the deaf Crown.

What ultimately happened was a revolt. But not in the sense of what has been or would become a revolution as we have seen in other parts of the world. No, it was a revolution of a very slow burn--one, that some would argue, still continues today. Slow was its genius. It gave time for the people to awaken and be touched by the light of liberty that was burning. It gave time to lighten the darkness. This slow paced revolution continues in our founding document the Constitution. It has the component of Federalism, reserving certain rights to the states. The boundaries are meant to be discussed and constantly shift. It is not meant to be an absolute rigid measuring stick. It's soft and malleable to avoid breakage. Different people will interpret it differently. There is no black and white. There are checks and balances.

People are born with the potential to make a difference if they involve themselves in the flow of the revolution. It is not the end that matters. It is the progress of the process. Although the lanterns of the night only burned a short while so not to be given away to the enemy, that light is still expanding out into the dark night.