Numinous, luminous, or merely voluminous?

I've begun reading The Problem of Pain by C.S. Lewis and have discovered an interesting word of which I had been previously unaware, numinous (I have not yet ascertained what Lewis' problem with pain is, but I do have an idea... it hurts).  Mr. Lewis employs several dense, wordy paragraphs to define and describe numinous, which is the sense of being in the presence of God.  Had I been there that day he penned this slender tome I could have explained it much more simply.  Listen to Bach, Mr. Lewis, listen to Bach.

Johann Sebastian Bach was born in Eisenach, Germany in 1685.  He garnered great acclaim as an organist during his lifetime, but today is universally hailed as one of the greatest composers.  There are over 1100 known compositions by Bach, and while I've not heard them all, I've yet to hear a clinker.  Immaculately crafted, with sublime melodies soaring above or darting through layers of texture and sound, to hear this music is to acknowledge the divine.  Consider "Gott's Zeit ist die allerbeste Zeit," a cantata written for a funeral in Mülhausen.  The title means "God's time is the all-best time," a sentiment many would do well to internalize in this day of instant gratification.  Listen to the beautiful soprano aria, "Ja, komm, Herr Jesu, komm," a plea for Jesus to come now.  It is intimate and poignant in a way that can only come from experience.  Death was a too-frequent visitor in 17th century Europe. Bach lost his parents at age 9, would lose his first wife, and 10 of his 20 children.  These experiences did not unsettle his religious beliefs, however, and his faith is evident in every dot and dash on the page.  The music of Bach is the very definition of numinous.

Then I began to reflect upon the relationship between numinous and luminous, which means clear or enlightening.  I believe all numinous music is also luminous, but the opposite is not necessarily true.  Let's take a look at Alan Hovhaness.  Hovhaness was born in 1911 in Massachusetts to an Armenian father and a Scottish mother.  He traveled the world and became immersed in the art, religion, and music of many cultures, including Indian and Japanese.  His music is infused with mysticism and beauty.  Listen to the first movement of the Concerto for Two Pianos and note the lush orchestral opening sprinkled with dissonances from the two pianos. It is as if flecks of pure light and inspiration are breaking through the mundane.  I consider the music of Hovhaness to be luminous in the extreme, but I fail to find the numinous there.  I'm sure there are those who disagree, but that's one of the joys of life, that we can all find the numinous in our own time and place.

Now let's take just a moment to discuss the antithesis of all these beautiful things, voluminous.  It has been my experience that too much music relies on the voluminous to make itself felt.  It's very easy to manipulate the emotions through music, any composer worth their stubby pencil knows how (modulate up a third and cue the french horns!).  Bombast and bamboozle masquerade as spirit and soul while yet another audience member thinks they've encountered the divine because their heart is pounding (to which I reply, that was just the timpani, dear).  This permeates other aspects of our lives as well.  How often are push-up bras mistaken for beauty or news channel pundits passed off as sages?  Look to Elijah in the Old Testament, the voice of God was not in the wind, the earthquake, or the fire, but in the still, small voice.  May we all forsake the fake.  No one should aspire to be merely voluminous.

Johann Sebastian Bach

Alan Hovhaness

Beantrarians, unite!

As I ponder yet another presidential election I am once again confronted with choices that don't reflect my views or address my concerns.  I have no doubt that the candidates are all decent enough men and if I had them over for dinner and a game of Settlers of Catan we would enjoy one another's company.  Unfortunately appreciating my exquisite barbecue chicken is not sufficient to win my vote.  I want someone who will feel my pain, assuage my anguish, and save incandescent light bulbs.

To this end I have decided to start my own political party, and all are invited to join.  It is called the Beantrarian Party.  I chose this name because it is my family name, Bean (enormous ego is essential when starting one's own party) as well as a legume that causes many people considerable intestinal discomfort (another key component of any political organization) combined with the word contrarian, which perfectly describes our party platform;

WE OPPOSE

What do we oppose, you ask?  Whatever someone else wants.  It is a law of politics that if it's good for someone else, it must not be good for me, so we hereby oppose anything and everything anyone wants.  It's such a simple concept;  no talking points to discuss, no memos to distribute, no strategy to devise.  

The new Beantrarian Party needs candidates, and I have done ample research to find the perfect pair.  For President of the United States of America the Beatrarians would like to nominate the French composer Jean Baptiste Lully.  Born in Italy in 1632 he moved to France and became the most important composer of Parisian ballets and operas.  He has excellent credentials to recommend his candidacy.  He was ambitious and ruthless in his brazen machinations to  rise to the top of Louis XIV's court.  He was also of dubious moral repute, having numerous affairs with women and men, causing scandals that shocked even Louis.  The end of his life was equally dramatic.  He lost his temper while conducting an ensemble and stabbed himself in the foot with his long conducting stick.  Gangrene set in and he died in 1687.  Clearly here is the perfect politician, a man with no conscience to get in the way of our cause, a man who will stop at nothing to succeed.

For his running mate the Beantrarians will nominate Anonymous the Fourth.  Anonymous is precisely that, an unknown 13th century scholar who wrote an important treatise on music.  Since we don't know who he is, he can't say anything embarrassing, lose a debate, or express an inappropriate opinion.  He also can't perform any real function, which makes him the perfect vice-presidential candidate.

It has occurred to me that our Lully/Anonymous ticket may be hampered by the fact that they are dead.  The Constitution may stipulate that candidates be living at the time of their nomination, although if you study past elections it is impossible to ascertain if this is truly the case.  But never fear, intrepid voter, we have a back-up pair, Gumby and Pokey.  They will be easily manipulated into supporting our opposition stance.  Some may object that they are artificial and plastic, but there has been ample precedent set for this in previous administrations.

All you tired, you poor, you huddled masses yearning to breathe free of the miasma of election season, cast off the shackles of narrow minded vision and conventional party politics.  Rally 'round the Beantrarian banner.  Join us as we sound the clarion call, "NO PROGRESS IS GOOD PROGRESS!"

Jean Baptiste Lully

    

The Beantrarian Banner

Let There be Light!

My fourteen year old son asked me last night if he could watch a certain show on Netflix.  He told me that it was "really cool" and about the zombie apocalypse.  I am a reasonably open-minded parent, so I gave my permission and sat down to watch it with him.  Three episodes later I was depressed, with such a dim view of the future potential of humankind that I had to ransack the cupboards for dark chocolate.  How much rotting flesh, human snacking, marital strife, bickering, dishonesty, and raunchy conversation can one person absorb?  (I must find an equation for that...)  I enjoy dark, edgy shows.  I was a true X-Phile back in the day.  I love 40's and 50's film noir.  Yet those earlier forms of entertainment always had a glimmer of light, a ray of hope.  Fox Mulder was on a quest for the truth, and that was worth wading through mutant fluke worms.  Today's protagonists seem to be on a quest for more zombies to kill, more meth to make, more lying, stealing, cheating to get away with, more notches carved on the bedpost, more consumption, more lust, more greed, more, more, more.  It begs the question, what happened to the light?

Ah, but art is a reflection of its time, right?  We live in a dark, edgy world.  People are lying, cheating, stealing, making meth (not sure about killing zombies...).  Why should we expect anything else from our creative peers?  They are merely portraying their environment.  This is a popular but flawed conceit.  Let us consider Olivier Messiaen.

Messiaen was a French composer, born in 1908.  He was drafted into the French army in World War II and was captured at Verdun. He was sent to Stalag VIII-A, a prisoner of war camp in Görlitz.  Under what surely must have been dire and depressing circumstances, Messiaen did what any self-respecting composer would do, he created.  He met a violinist, a cellist, and a clarinetist among the prisoners and  composed Quartet for the End of Time, with a part for himself on the piano.  Given his surroundings, it would be understandable if the music were angry, harsh, clangorous.  It would be forgivable if it were a sonic assault upon our ears.  But Messiaen chose the light.  Inspired by the Book of Revelations in the New Testament and with movement titles such as "Praise to the Eternity of Jesus," Messiaen chose to improve his environment, not reflect it.  The premiere was performed for the prisoners and guards in a chilly barrack on inferior quality instruments, yet Stalag VIII-A must have been transfigured on that January night as the sublime, ethereal tones of Messiaen's musical vision filled the air.  It is truly transcendent music that elevates the soul.

There is always a choice.  We may not be able to choose our surroundings or control the situations in which we find ourselves, but we can choose how we reflect those surroundings.  We can choose what we absorb, internalize, and celebrate from our surroundings.  We can choose what we assimilate and integrate into our creative endeavors and our lives.  What does it say about humankind that so many of us choose to reflect moral and spiritual decay?  Perhaps this fascination with zombies and its attendant rotting flesh and corpse cannibalism is more of a comment on who we've become than we'd like to admit.  It doesn't have to be that way.  The undead need not come knocking at my door.  I will emulate Messiaen.  I choose the light.

Olivier Messiaen



If you are interested in reading more about the fascinating history of
Quartet for the End of Time, I recommend this excellent
article by Alex Ross, music critic for The New Yorker.

Zombie

The Law of Five

Gustav and I were recently zipping around town (Gustav is a zipper.  He just can't keep it under 45 mph.) when the last movement of Dmitri Shostakovich's Symphony Number 5 begin to play on Pandora.  I hadn't listened to it in years, so it was thrilling to once again hear the thundering brass, the wailing strings, the insistent percussion, and the unrelenting misery that is such a hallmark of Shostakovich's music.  While enjoying this sonic feast, I began to think, "There's something special about the number five."

Let's examine the musical examples.  Shostakovich wrote 13 symphonies, and yet which one is the most popular, has the most recordings, and is most loved by the general public?  Number 5, hands down.  There are those of us who prefer others, number 13 is widely admired, and my personal favorite is number 11, but neither of these come close to the mass appeal of number 5.  Sergei Prokofiev composed 7 symphonies.  The first, the Classical Symphony, is performed frequently due to its ease and accessibility, but once again, it is number 5 that is the most popular and most frequently recorded.  And of course I would be remiss if I didn't mention the most famous number 5 of all, Beethoven's.  It is not my favorite Beethoven symphony, I prefer the 7th with it's glorious opening oboe solo (which I have played a few times).  Yet it's opening motive is arguably the most well known 4 notes in all of classical music.  I am old enough that I remember a time when it was used to advertise Alka-Selzter on TV.  I could put in a plug here for the Tchaikovsky 5th and the Sibelius 5th, but I believe the trend is clear.

Lest anyone should scoff, consider these other examples that indicate the supremacy of the number 5;

Star Wars V - The Empire Strikes Back is easily the best of the bunch.  How can you argue with the movie that gave the world the immortal misquote, "Luke, I am your father."

X-Files Season 5 - The best of the X-Files seasons for many reasons.  It was the last to be filmed in Vancouver, it's the season that leads into the movie "Fight the Future," and it contained one of my favorite episodes...

Episode 5 of season 5 of The X-Files - "Post Modern Prometheus" is a black and white film-noir beauty with mob scenes, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cross-species genetic manipulation and a Cher impersonator lip-synching "Walking in Memphis."  What's not to love?

Henry V - The most beloved of the King Henrys of England (he defeated the French at Agincourt, after all!) and the most popular of Shakespeare's "King" plays.

Five Golden Rings - The best Christmas gift.  Does anyone really want four calling birds or seven maids a milking?

So where does this compelling evidence lead us?  To my new theorem, "The Law of Five."  Simply stated, it is this, that the fifth in a sequence of any creative medium is the best.  I urge all artists everywhere to consider the implications of this new law.  If you are a poet and are having writer's block, just start writing Sonnet V and your woes are over.  If you are a screenwriter, begin with the 5th movie in your franchise and your career is made.  All you choreographers out there, skip to the 5th pas de deux for instant success.

As for me, although I have yet to compose symphonies 1-4, there is a new sign on my studio door;

DO NOT DISTURB

SYMPHONY NO. 5 IN PROGRESS

Dimitri Shostakovich

Ludwig van Beethoven

Sergei Prokofiev