Last night I went to the symphony.
Doesn't that sound fine and fancy. It would probably be more accurate to say I went to the Orchestre symphonique de Montréal's Lang Lang concert. For those not in the know, (as I certainly was not beforehand), Lang Lang is one of the top pianists in the world. A native of China, Lang Lang began playing piano at age 3 and started his celebrated performance career at 17. Twelve years later, he has a Grammy, an honorary doctorate and a Sony recording contract.
We arrived at the hall in the nick of time. As the house darkened and Lang Lang began to play, the sadly boorish thought that went through my mind was, "How am I going to get through 2 1/2 hours without any visual stimulus?" Does that demonstrate that I was a TV child (much as my folks tried to stop us)? Actually though, what I really wanted was pen and paper to doodle or write while I listened.
Doesn't that sound fine and fancy. It would probably be more accurate to say I went to the Orchestre symphonique de Montréal's Lang Lang concert. For those not in the know, (as I certainly was not beforehand), Lang Lang is one of the top pianists in the world. A native of China, Lang Lang began playing piano at age 3 and started his celebrated performance career at 17. Twelve years later, he has a Grammy, an honorary doctorate and a Sony recording contract.
We arrived at the hall in the nick of time. As the house darkened and Lang Lang began to play, the sadly boorish thought that went through my mind was, "How am I going to get through 2 1/2 hours without any visual stimulus?" Does that demonstrate that I was a TV child (much as my folks tried to stop us)? Actually though, what I really wanted was pen and paper to doodle or write while I listened.
Being pen-less left me with an excellent opportunity to think. As I stared at his marvelous hands making magic on the keyboard and observed how his body seemed to absorb the emotions, I tried to focus on the feelings of both the composer and the pianist. Sadly, I was too unfamiliar to really understand it. On the other hand, from trying to understand the hidden meaning of the music I began to think about the relationship of prayer and music.
Let me take half a step back and share a slightly different train of thought. On our way to the concert, my husband turned on his new Sirius satellite radio to the all-Broadway channel (which he had programmed just for me). I used to love Broadway, and I still do, but I realized that I had long ago left the circle of real Broadway fans. I know many of the songs, but not the new ones and not the inside jokes. This lead me to later think about the people at the concert and how they were linked by a love of classical music...another circle into which I did not properly fit.
It would be wonderful if I could write here that I was transported by Lang Lang's incredible music to a euphoric state of communing with the Divine. It did not. But it did lead me to thinking about music and prayer, and how, several months ago, I told myself that I was going to try to pray more and that I was going to use my affinity for Broadway show tunes to do so. (Many years ago, I had found a profound connection between Les Miserables "Bring Him Home" and the situation of Nachshon Wachsman.)
Having resolved this line of thinking in my mind, my focus returned to Lang Lang. What process, I wondered, had gone into the development of the piano? What did the faces of the first people of the world look like when they pounded a hollow jar and heard a beautiful sound...and how had they gone from there to discovering the melodious vibrations of strings?
Let me take half a step back and share a slightly different train of thought. On our way to the concert, my husband turned on his new Sirius satellite radio to the all-Broadway channel (which he had programmed just for me). I used to love Broadway, and I still do, but I realized that I had long ago left the circle of real Broadway fans. I know many of the songs, but not the new ones and not the inside jokes. This lead me to later think about the people at the concert and how they were linked by a love of classical music...another circle into which I did not properly fit.
It would be wonderful if I could write here that I was transported by Lang Lang's incredible music to a euphoric state of communing with the Divine. It did not. But it did lead me to thinking about music and prayer, and how, several months ago, I told myself that I was going to try to pray more and that I was going to use my affinity for Broadway show tunes to do so. (Many years ago, I had found a profound connection between Les Miserables "Bring Him Home" and the situation of Nachshon Wachsman.)
Having resolved this line of thinking in my mind, my focus returned to Lang Lang. What process, I wondered, had gone into the development of the piano? What did the faces of the first people of the world look like when they pounded a hollow jar and heard a beautiful sound...and how had they gone from there to discovering the melodious vibrations of strings?
But the first instrument we ever had was the voices God gave us. The Torah has numerous references to song, most famously the song sung after the crossing of the Sea of Reeds. The Levites used to sing the Psalms in the Beis Hamikdash. Zemirot, the songs of the Shabbat table, are considered so essential that my son has a check box for whether or not he sang any at each of the Shabbat meals.
I can't play any instruments, and I am not very good with formal prayer. But I love to sing, so if you see me singing quietly in my yard, just remember that might be how I am praying.
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