Music soothes the inner beast

Everywhere, people have been reacting to Tuesday morning's tragedies in various ways. I, myself, felt the horror and gravity of the Sept. 11 events and temporarily found myself shocked and unable to create coherent thoughts. What I realized was that it wasn't just the events of that ill-fated morning that bothered me; it was the interruption of daily life that threw me into a state of confusion.

I was at Peabody for a class as the news was breaking on televisions everywhere. While there, I overheard students laughing about the tragic events of Tuesday morning. It was as if the morning's events amounted to little more than a few poorly juxtaposed scenes from a B movie being produced by CNN. What frustrated me even more was that I overheard about ten different Korean kids on their cell phones calling people, trivializing and laughing about the emotional reactions of their peers. Loosely translated, what I most heard was "Yeah. All the airports are down in this country and everyone is making a big deal out of it. It's rather funny to see everything shutting down."

There is nothing funny about what happened and I began to feel physically ill when I realized that many in our society are incapable of accepting the most horrifying event of our lives as anything other than an unfortunate thing that happened to someone else. This attack was not about someone else. It affects each and every one of us as citizens of the United States of America. Pardon my impassioned sentiments, but there should not be a single U.S. citizen out there thinking that what occurred on Tuesday was nothing more than a random event. It was calculated and directed at everyone in America.

Just as I was being disgusted by immature reactions to the "apparent terrorist attacks," I also began to notice a sense of community build around this event. At Peabody, I saw about 50 people gathered around a little television in the main lounge. Everyone was sitting or standing with their eyes glued to the set, while a bond began to grow between all those who were concerned. Events like those of Tuesday morning's are similar to other events like the Vietnam War and the two World Wars in that such events create stronger bonds between people. I saw people consoling each other. I felt a growing sense of community each time I heard someone ask about friends, relatives and loved ones.

What I sensed was a growing bond between people in all situations. For instance, in my Music Theory III class, Dr. Falby took this opportunity to help conservatory students realize the role of music in life. What started as a discussion on how to rationalize music as a pursuit in light of Tuesday's events turned into a philosophical discussion that explored some deeper human connection to music. My classmates were all able to articulate intelligent reasons that answered the question of why we were pursuing musical careers. And at the heart of the discussion, what I felt was that everyone grew more aware of how much they really had in common with everyone else at Peabody. It wasn't just about music and it wasn't just about the tragic events. It was about a growing sense of identity rooted in the noble pursuit of music. Really, there is no pursuit nobler than that of a musician's. For comparatively little pay, despite years of specialized knowledge, musicians bring spirit to the human race. They offer a way to capture moments and recall past events. Forever, we will remember our nation's politicians gathering to sing patriotic tunes on Tuesday evening.

For me, a Peabody Symphony Orchestra rehearsal helped me find the vehicle I needed to vent my frustration and anger. I found that the last movement of Tchaikovsky's Symphony No. 4 was the perfect way to release my emotions; the work is a study in controlled, excessive emotions and there is an undercurrent of sadness beneath what seems a triumphal return at the end. This perfectly-mirrored my own feelings of Tuesday's events, so I played my heart out. During the change to the other piece, I had an odd taste in my mouth and it was of blood. I had been articulating so hard, that I cut the tip of my tongue on the clarinet reed. I now have a ruddy reed to show my fervor.

Truly, music embodies the human spirit. There is no other art form that so captures emotion and relays it in such a universal form. The blind man cannot see dance or art, but can hear music. The deaf man cannot hear music, but it is proven that he can feel music and the vibrations of music also relay emotions to him just as the note "Bb" can be played a number of ways to relay different sensations to the hearing man.

In retrospect, perhaps we should have taken the date, 9-11, as a warning, but really there is little we can do about past events at this point. We must accept what has happened. Tough times lay ahead for us all, but it is up to us to rebuild our foundations and restore faith in our government. We must look at Tuesday's events as an opportunity to restore a sense of community that has been waning. We've all lost some part of ourselves, but we must now reach out to our peers.