Life

I've been generally steeping myself in music in the last week or so, and been thinking a lot about the power of music to restore us, mind body and soul. Last Saturday was my Grandmother's memorial service, and I wasn't able to make it because I'm out in Chicago, though I did type up the Eulogy which my mom read out by proxy for me. Though I wasn't there, I still used it as a day to remember her life and mark her passing. I ended up playing the piano for hours, something I hadn't done since she had her stroke. My grandmother was a wonderful musician, who played the piano for over 80 years and she told me often that she felt if there was any kind of heaven, then it must exist in music. Last weekend, as I played, I liked to think that perhaps part of that intangible thing that stirs us in music is the spirits of those who only live now within our memories. Perhaps it is the spirits of others moving somewhere in those chords that give them such life.

One of my favorite philosophical ideas is that of the Musica Universalis or the Music of the Spheres, which originated with the thinking of Pythagoras, who is often quoted as having said, "there is geometry in the humming of the strings; there is music in the spacing of the spheres." The notion of the Music of the Spheres continued to be popular all through the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. The idea is that there is an unheard music that reverberates throughout the spheres that were then thought to make up the universe. The ptolemaic model of the universe, which was the dominant model through the Renaissance, conceives of a system with the earth at the center surrounded by nesting spheres that contain the planets, including the sun, moon, and various stars. The basic concept of the musica universalis is that each of the nesting spheres are set at distances from each other perfectly aligned to musical intervals, and all things in the universe, from the stars to the workings of the human body are structured according to the mathematics of musical theory and play out their existence to the rhythms of a great spritual music. (The image at the top of this entry shows some Renaissance notation for what one person imagined the music for each sphere, and the image below shows a diagram of the intervals of the spheres according to Stanley's History of Philosophy from the 17th century).



We feel this universal music sometimes when we are awed by great works of nature, or in some moment when all is still within us and we sense something far beyond ourselves that connects us to everything in existence. Earthly music can also bring us close to this Musica Universalis, but in this life the actual Music of the Spheres will always be something stemming from God, and just beyond the reach of our hearing. I think this idea is a beautiful way of describing both the presence of a universal spirit in the universe and of explaining the effect that music can have on our spirits. The music we hear is just a fragment of the greater music we do not hear, and which connects us body and soul.



Last weekend I had ample chance to connect to the universal music of the universe through two amazing snatches of mortal music. I went to a solo piano concert last Sunday performed by the pianist Alfred Brendal, who is easily one of my favorite pianists to hear live, with the most incredible clear and moving touch. Tuesday I heard YoYo Ma for the first time live (and only the third row in from the stage! Bless student ticket prices!) which was also breathtaking. He played three of the Bach cello suites, and he played them beautifully. He tunes that cello just the way the hand of God tunes the universe in the image above. What a gift each of these performances was to my spirit. The music has refreshed me deeply, giving me new mental strength to continue tackling the job of coming up with that dissertation proposal.

Last Sunday I also found a harmonica my grandfather gave me years ago. I had it hidden away in a drawer next to my corsage from the prom, and I decided I would try my hand at learning to play the thing. Let me say to everyone right now, that if you want an instrument that gives practically instant gratification, then the harmonica is the thing for you. I could pick out a simple tune within an hour of trying to play it and, though I definitely sound like a beginner still, a week later I'm moving along by leaps and bounds. It's a total blast. Not to mention, I can think of no better way for connecting with the Musica Universalis than by playing Polly Wally Doodle on the harmonica. (Those who have seen the conclusion of Frank Capra's classic film, You Can't Take it With You will, of course, realize the profound truth of that last statement. )