How Sweet the Sound

As I have said before, one of the most rewarding components of my life is my relationship with music, and the opportunities that arise to share music with all kinds of people. It has been a way I show service, pay respect, and demonstrate love to people, as long as I can remember.

Today, I had the wonderful opportunity to perform for a group of residents at Alta Ridge Assisted Living Facility.  As I prepared my repertoire, I realized it needed to be selected carefully so it would resonate with them in the best way possible. I wanted music that was familiar and made them smile. The music needed to be from the right era, not too laborious or long, light enough to have fun, and just serious enough to be sentimental.  

All of us gathered around the piano after the sing-along

As I researched and prepared, I came across a book of old standards that belonged to my beloved Grandma Winnie. As I have mentioned in previous posts, she was the champion of my musical career, and probably my biggest fan. I literally felt her with me today, watching over me and singing with the group, especially when I played a few of her favorite songs.

This was the opener and closer! They sang their hearts out.

I never cease to be amazed how music evokes memory. When I began my performance today,  I had no clue it would be interactive... or that I would have such a lovely choir! I started with what I had been told was their favorite song, "Moon River," and, very quickly, voices trickled in from all areas of the room. The lyrics were not in unison, the tones were not calculated, and the imperfection of it was stunning and completely endearing to me. As the sing-along continued, I was thrilled to hear some people harmonizing, and the songs in which the majority of the group remembered every word. You could feel a sudden infusion of youth and energy in the spirit of the room we shared.

The group of twenty men and women sang, respectfully at first, then louder and louder as I cheered for them. I wondered what memories they were having as they heard music that was such an intimate part of their generation. 

Had they danced with a first love to "Let Me Call You Sweetheart"?

Had they taught their children to sing "Michael Row the Boat Ashore"?

Did they have memories of practicing the piano themselves as children when I played Chopin?

I tried to imagine how they felt listening to "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" and perhaps remembering the first time in their life they heard the song. For one lovely resident, it was on the silver screen, in the first movie she had ever seen in her life. 

Did "How Great Thou Art" stir them the way it stirred my Grandmother? I performed it at her funeral, at her request. During the piece, there was a palpable sense of shared intimacy and reverence.

While I played "Blue Moon," I had my own incredibly fond memory of my childhood. My Grandma Winnie was living with us after she had a stroke, and we all gathered around the piano in the living room after Sunday dinner. For a few minutes, that group of people was entirely united as well: my grandmother in her wheelchair, my parents, my brother, and my youngest sister who had probably never heard the song since she was only five years old. A neighborhood friend who was the "cool guy in school" came up to our house to visit me and my brother, and he joined us too. Even though I was set inside this scene, I feel like I watched it from a distance, and was able to embrace what a beautiful collaboration of lives it was, because of a song. This is one of my most cherished family memories.

I will remain grateful for the rest of my life for music. Growing up practicing daily and training for competitions was very very lonely. Piano is the only instrument that isn't generally part of a group such as a symphony, orchestra, quartet, etc. You are usually the soloist (which is cool, but you pay a price of loneliness to get there). To be honest, I think the solitary aspect of it appealed to me, although there were more than a handful of moments when I wished it was a group activity.

I see so clearly now that it absolutely is.