What is music? Johann Sebastian Bach said this in his Instruction on the Thorough-Bass (General Bass): "The ultimate end and final reason of all music should be none other than but the glory of God and the refreshment of the soul.” Bach didn’t distinguish between “sacred’ or “secular” works, by the way.
I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t singing or listening to music. Growing up, music included my father’s singing (and whistling) around the house; what was played on the radio or TV; singing with Mom in our Episcopal church choir; Dad playing Chopin on the piano I inherited from Nana; singing folk songs and rounds at day camp; what was on my LPs (as a child, Disney’s Cinderella, as a teen, movie soundtracks, The Beatles, Duran Duran, pop and rock music).
Once I turned 18, I stopped attending church regularly, but never stopped searching for what I had loved about attending church: the music. We sang Mozart, Brahms, Bach, Handel and glorious hymns throughout the year. Singing in Glee Club, Chorus and Vocal Ensemble during my undergraduate music studies, and in the Harvard University Choir —the choir for Harvard’s Memorial Church—during grad school kept me in touch with that music.
But when I sought to be part of the music world outside of church or college, I kept running into dead ends. Interning at record companies enlarged my collection, but for me, answering phones in the A & R (Artists & Repertoire) department had nothing to do with music. After a while, too, popular music started to lose its appeal, and my ears turned to Vivaldi and all things baroque. Part of the reason I went for a music doctorate was that I wanted to understand why baroque music appealed to me so much. But, alas, at Harvard, music was to be seen, and not heard (and certainly not enjoyed). Postdoctorally, the classical music and opera worlds felt like extensions of the popular music world, with the focus on competition instead of collaboration, and trying to make things “sexy” and glamorous. No talk of refreshing the soul there.
My journey along the spiritual path took me to goddess circles, yoga centers, Reiki classes, New Age workshops and more, but the music in these places just never did it for me. Then in 2012, I came to the Bruno Gröning Circle of Friends and knew I had arrived home. Here was music with the same depth of feeling and spiritual connection as the church music I’d grown up with. Listening to and singing this music has healed my voice and my soul. Here’s a music video for one of my favorite Circle of Friends’ pieces: https://youtu.be/1qvn97jvlW8?si=JdWFDSWUBHwY18hP
And, at long last, I’ve begun composing consistently, something I have only done in fits and starts since my teen years. Often snippets of pieces bubble to the surface first thing in the morning, and I sing them into my iPad. Then I work out what they want to be later at the piano. (And yes, in case you’re wondering, Madison has sent a couple of songs through, too.) Once I know what the piece wants to be, I write it down. I still use music paper and pencil to notate music. No Finale, Sibelius, or MuseScore yet. It takes longer to notate a song than a sonnet, but what a joy it is to hold a finished score in my hands. Finally, I get to put that Queens College Aaron Copland School of Music theory and composition training to good use!
So what is music? I’m inclined to agree with Bach. Music is about divine connection. It’s about beauty, harmony, and everything good. It’s not academic, nor is it a business. It’s an expression of divine love. Music made with the divine in mind heals, because that’s what refreshment of the soul leads to. It’s about connecting to our Creator, the true source of inspiration. Maybe music is my ministry, with each new piece being a love letter from and to God.