August 2023 | The Village Journal | Music

 

Let's take a moment to pause and appreciate the fact that we have access to nearly every piece of music ever written (at least since the 14th century B.C.). What a gift! With this in mind, I feel I have no excuse not to learn about the most beautiful pieces ever written and the men and women who composed them - both for my own benefit and to share with my children. 

 

I am grateful to my own parents for “forcing” me to stick to piano lessons for many years and attending more choir concerts than I can count. I can certainly say that my love of history, poetry, and literature grew from the classical music I was privileged to study and play as a child. 

 

Of course, If you've been following along for a while, you'll know that I love putting together a good playlist,  and definitely love many genres that expand beyond classical! That said, I think the study of classical music helps form a foundation to recognize good music from bad (i.e. “taste”) and develops the patience classical music requires to appreciate it fully. 

 

Further, I think music can really set the tone in a home, especially while cooking or dining! This morning, my little girls and I listened to renaissance choral pieces while making zucchini muffins because…why not? :) 

 

In recognition of the importance of music, but mostly my love of music, I have absolved to use the month of August to get back to my piano for at least 15 minutes a day, and just enjoy making music again - it's been a while!

 

What will you do to soak in some beautiful music this month? 

 

“Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.”

When music sounds, gone is the earth I know, 
And all her lovely things even lovelier grow; 
Her flowers in vision flame, her forest trees 
Lift burdened branches, stilled with ecstasies. 

When music sounds, out of the water rise 
Naiads whose beauty dims my waking eyes, 
Rapt in strange dreams burns each enchanted face, 
With solemn echoing stirs their dwelling-place. 

When music sounds, all that I was I am 
Ere to this haunt of brooding dust I came; 
And from Time's woods break into distant song 
The swift-winged hours, as I hasten along.