I love music.
It has been a huge part of my life ever since I was born, a source of entertainment, a teaching tool, and a challenge for me to master. My parents raised us on Bible CD's - seriously, I can't even read certain verses without singing them in my head - and taught us that music is important. It is an elegant art, a cultured topic, way to relax, and a mood changer. But most importantly, music can be used to glorify God.
But, it can also be part of academic life.
Right now, I am in the process of writing a research paper on Beethoven's Ninth Symphony: Ode to Joy for history class. Now, some people might find this task tedious and boring, but I have found it to be invigorating and inspiring! Not only do I get to learn about my favorite composer - who becomes even more amazing as you learn more about him - but I literally get marks for listening to my favorite type of music! Because I love old music. Not like the 1970's, even further back. More like the 1790's.
Anyways, this project has inspired me to write a symphony of my own - not that it will ever even come close to the musical masterpiece of Ode to Joy. Beethoven's Ninth has divine qualities, mine is pretty down to earth. Even so, with symphonies going on in my head - I listened to Symphony No. 9 at least five times this week - it was pretty easy to start thinking about my life in musical terms. So I decided I would take the time to describe my life as a symphony.
Here is what it would sound like:
It would start with strings, gently playing the first chord. A bass drum pounds out a faint heartbeat that slowly gets louder and louder. Suddenly the flutes trills, the clarinets and first violins ascend in quick scales, and the exposition of my life has begun!
The melody transfers to the tuba and a simple clumsy melody begins to play. The tune is rather humorous, and carries on even when interrupted by trumpet blasts. More scales symbolize the introduction of other people – Caleb, Joseph and Stephen - into the symphony, but my toddling theme is still the main focus.
And all the while, the heartbeat continues to play.
The tempo quickens and the theme is passed to the cellos who add a little more complexity to the melody. Their solo is playful, lively, and a lot smoother even though a few more people are added. The French horns fill out the sound and a key change is introduced. The music becomes a lot more structured, and a sort of theme and variation takes place. Musicians bounce around in the new key, the tempo and harmonies become more complicated because there are suddenly more instruments playing. This is elementary school.
Eventually musical styles change, becoming more exotic and playing in every part of the instruments’ range. Trumpets sing out, trombones enjoy numerous glissandos, and the drum set keeps a swinging beat. There is no more structure, the speed and dynamics fluctuate, and every once and a while a few dissonant chords break up the music. Thankfully these are always quickly resolved and the symphonic journey continues as the orchestra plays through our five month road trip.
But suddenly the instruments drop out one by one, and a minor melody begins, led by the violins. The musical scene is sparse, nothing but the violins and a string bass to continue the tune. Sometimes it even seems to echo to toddling theme of the beginning. This is when we moved to Emo, and the transition was not easy.
Even so, the symphony does not stop. And the heartbeat continues.
Eventually a new theme begins. A harp sweeps through the melody, the sound swells and the music picks up speed. Instruments are added, a supportive bass line develops, and the woodwinds always have something to do. The piano becomes one of the focal instruments at this point, sounding out a few of the exotic melodies played before. I’m in high school, I’ve completed my German Exchange, and things are speeding up.
The music intensifies. This is the Coda.
Harmonies build, there is even counterpoint going on in the bass instruments! Impressive. The woodwinds laugh, the trombones shout, and the violins pluck away studiously. Percussion drives the symphony forward and everything is streaming towards a musical climax so rapidly that the musicians can hardly even think.
Can you still hear the heartbeat?
Cymbal crashes at the end of scales mark important events, and symbolize that things are finishing. The music is so impressive that people are already clapping.
But it’s not over yet.
The cadence begins to unfold with dominant chords punctuated with enthusiastic trumpets and timpani. All instruments are scaling up or down to the tonic, trilling, or playing fortissimo, marking every single note. I think there are even some cannons in the back row - we’re going 1812 Overture style now!
Everyone is waiting for the final chord, prepared to jump up in a standing ovation - even though it’s only the First Movement and technically no applause is allowed in between!
Then everything drops away to nothing.
Only the strings and the heartbeat remain.
Because at the end of the First movement it is time to be still.
Even though everything has been building up to this moment, even though every single musician is pushing themselves so hard, even though every person in the audience is waiting for the Coda to end with volcanic power - that is not what happens.
Instead, a time of reflection occurs. A time of quiet, a time of calm, a time of focused peace. The change is deliberate, and all distractions are removed to focus on what truly matters: the melody that has been with me from the beginning.
The bass drum.
The heartbeat.
My soul.
The most important part of the symphony, and my life.
Which is why at the end of the First Movement, it needs to be excavated from the harmonies, and re-examined. Before moving on, my soul and consequently my faith, needs to be reaffirmed and renewed. It must be strong and clear and completely on time while I leave high school. Because in the end, if the percussion is off everything else will be too.
So in the midst of the Coda: prom, graduation, recitals, celebrations, exams.... I need to be reminded to watch the Conductor and keep the last measures calm and focused.
“Be still and know that I am God,” is the verse I read today. And when you do that, exciting things will follow. Ending the Coda of the First Movement quietly actually allows the music in the Second to intensify without deafening people. And centering on the percussion assures that there will be a strong pulse pushing the next part forward.
Back to the audience.
They listen to the beautiful stillness.
Is this the end?
Not quite.
Because this Coda is just the beginning of the next movement, one that will be even more glorious and adventurous than the First, so long as the focus is not on the swirling music around you, but the One who orchestrated it all.
