I have no way of telling you whether eternal life really exists. I cannot tell you about this condition because I have not yet died. However, when the time comes for me to answer the roll call up yonder, there will be certain things that I will miss greatly. Naturally I will miss my wife as well as my children, grandchildren and friends. But also I will miss the sound of music.
For someone as unschooled as I am in the field of musicology, I am very fortunate in that I take great pleasure from all kinds of music. I enjoy symphonies as well as grand opera. I take great pleasure from folk music of every country. A good barbershop quartet causes me to rise to my feet and cheer them on. Perhaps the greatest music has been written to celebrate religious events. At this point I must say that my enthusiasm for music does not embrace rock ‘n roll or hip hop music. That music is basically just noise. It is repetitious and pointless. Without harmony and melody and a story line, music means nothing to its listeners. That is the case with respect to hip hop and rock ‘n roll music.
I became involved in grand opera because I was anointed to escort my older sister home after performing in the chorus of the Grand Opera Association of St. Louis. Attending the opera required me to put on a shirt and tie and a coat, of which I had one. Verna Carr was 15 years older than I was and I believe she sang in that chorus for two or three years when she was in her early 20s. So I must have been 10 to 12 years of age. One way or another, the music of grand opera entranced me and now in my 87th year, I am still enchanted by the music of grand opera. I am not much entranced by German opera or the Russian ballet. But Italian and French operas are an exquisite treat for my ears.
There is a special place in my heart reserved for black choirs. When those choirs sing a spiritual, I am moved to recall those familiar words. And of course Irish folk music, often bawdy at times, always arouses me. It is hard to believe but the Clancy Brothers, for example, have lost three of their quartet. Only Liam is left and you will be amazed to know that Liam is now in his early 70s. What happened to the Clancy Brothers who only yesterday in my imagination sang, “Isn’t It Grand, Boys, to Be Bloody Well Dead?”
Today, my great and good friend Howard W. Pappert called me from Venice, Florida to tell me that he had seen an old friend of ours perform. Apparently there was a symphonic performance at the Sarasota Concert Hall at which the lead violinist was a man that we had seen in Budapest in the late 1970s. He led an orchestra, Howard told me, of several other violinists and cellists who played their music entirely without having the music spread before them. They played from memory. I suppose that after performing for 30 or 40 years, having the music spread in front of you is unnecessary. Good old Howard thought enough of that performance that he called me to tell me about it. I am simply sorry that I was not there to witness it myself.
When my time is finished, I will take my leave of this earth as gracefully as possible. When that great event occurs, I hope that there is appropriate music being performed. One suggestion would be to have a performance by Samuel Ramey, the lyric bass who has a range that is unrivalled. Another might be to have that occasion marked by a performance of the opera Andrea Chenier by Umberto Giordano. The aria “Patria Mia” has always aroused me. Perhaps if it is played as I am carried away, it may arouse me to keep on keeping on. But no matter how you cut it, good music has always been a source of great enjoyment to this old codger.
E. E. CARR
February 18, 2009
Essay 368
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Kevin’s commentary: I think this is the first essay that I’ve encountered that makes mention of Mr. Pappert. I hope to see more of him as I dig into older essays.
Patria Mia is indeed rather pretty.
Now that the bottom of the essay is covered, I think it’s worth moving up to the top. I think it is a gross over-generalization to say that all hip hop and rock music lacks plot or melody. I hope Pop understands this and is just exercising his right to be a curmudgeonly old man.
As a counterexample in hip hop or rap, I’d point to Aesop Rock’s “No Regrets,” which trades a very clear story for just about everything else. I suppose Pop’s objection would be on the melody front. “Same love” by Macklemore, though not my favorite artist, meets both criteria. On the rock front pretty much most classic rock fits the bill. Billy Joel and Bob Dylan for instance are both “rock” and are both story-heavy as a general rule.