Looking for hope and finding music
We were a group of strangers waiting for the parking garage elevator. We’d just emerged from last weekend’s “Concert for Peace” at Heinz Hall, a fundraiser for humanitarian work in Ukraine. Each face seemed to display a strange mix of joy and bewilderment — mouths upturned but eyes thoughtful, even haunted.
In those brief minutes together, our conversation pinged wildly — from appreciation for the loveliness we’d just experienced to disbelief at the world’s precarious position. How had we reached this point?
How long will it last? Is it just Ukraine, really?
The evening’s music had been contemplative and somber. Much of it was in minor keys, one person mused,until the Largo from Antonin Dvorak’s “New World” symphony.
Full disclosure — my husband plays in the Pittsburgh Symphony, but whatever my bias, the star of the Dvorak “Largo” is, now and forever, the English horn. Its plaintive solo is also familiar as “Goin’ Home,” often said to be a Negro spiritual that Dvorak borrowed during his sojourn in the United States. The tune is actually original, though — a bridge from Dvorak’s Bohemia to post-Civil War America. (One of his students later adaptedit into the well-known song.)
The lore around the melody’s source underscores how the longing for home, loved ones and peace are universal. Sounds express what mere words cannot capture but what every heart, everywhere, knows.
Last weekend the Largo was nextto-last on the program. What followed was Ukraine’s national anthem, sung by youth choirs, Pittsburgh Opera professionals and weeping people all around me.
It was, appropriately, the evening’s only upbeat music. Voices rang out in unknown syllables, but the English translation, projected onto screens, spoke, like the Dvorak melody, beyondthe particular to the universal.
From a celebration of resurrection (“See, thy glory’s born again”) to the protection of liberty (“Soul and body, yea, our all, offer we at freedom’s call”) — these are joys of free people and desires of unfree people the world over.
The war in Ukraine is uniquely terrible in the West, but strife rages elsewhere. The Chinese government oppresses the Uyghurs, while forces in Ethiopia, Syria, Iraq and Myanmar pursue ethnic cleansing.
Less bloody strife rages in America too. Here it is not a foe from outside that threatens liberty and peace but our own broken society. How did we reach this moment?
Our politics drive us apart. Technology exaggerates and monetizes these divisions. We’ve been pursuing self-fulfillment and the affirmations of factionalism for so long that we now wonder how to recover. Some may doubt whether enough of us even want to.
It seems quite clear we can’t heal ourselves. What will change our hearts — or Vladimir Putin’s?
A powerful essay appeared two weeks ago in the Dallas Morning News under a very long headline: “I’m an atheist, but between COVID and nuclear weapons, I’m ready to give God a try.”
“Wonder Pets!” creator Josh Selig writes, “I know there is a meaning in all of this, God, but I need some help understanding what it is.
“Although I check daily, there are no answers in my newsfeed, in my inbox or on my phone…
“So, I’m here. We are all here. And, finally, I think we are ready to listen.”
If God exists, where will we hear him? These days it’s pretty tough to find enough silence for his “still, small voice,” so maybe we can start with music.
In evolutionary terms, music is completely unnecessary, but it exists, a constant marvel, and our very bodies are instruments. Perhaps this is a sign.
As it did at the concert for Ukraine, music provides solace and hope. It addresses the universal longing for transcendence.
Today is Palm Sunday for billions of people. My church’s little choir — and any walk-in volunteers — will be rehearsing the “Hallelujah Chorus” for next Sunday’s Easter celebration. I’m quite set on Jesus’s resurrection, but Passover begins Friday and Ramadan is ongoing.
Consider making time for sounds of awe and experiencing the possibility that, amidst the world’s terror, alienation and chaos, God is waiting, with mercy.