Morning Mood
Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent
Victor Hugo
At one stage in my career, my morning commute would sometimes take me through Vauxhall underground station en route to the mainline station above. It was usually around 6 am and to lift the spirits of the tired and bedraggled few who passed through at that time, the underground staff would play recorded music over the loudspeakers. On one occasion, they played a piece that took me back to my school music lessons, and this week’s Reflection is of those.
Despite my appreciation and enjoyment of music, I lack any ability to play a musical instrument. I can carry a tune, and some say my singing voice isn’t bad, but that’s the sum of my musical talent. Oh, that’s not entirely true. I can also whistle.
My poor abilities stand in contrast to my mother, who could play the piano by sight and her father, who could play by ear. My father had a good singing voice and could also whistle a tune. In fact, that’s how I knew what mood he was in. If singing, all was well. If whistling, especially if the whistling was not of a discernible tune, all was not well, and it was time to keep my distance.
My children also have musical ability. Eldest daughter played the saxophone, the eldest son played trombone and guitar and youngest daughter keyboards. I didn’t even master the recorder. In music lessons at school, I would ‘mime’ the notes by moving my fingers in line with what I could see others, who were playing, did. I was fortunate that I had a kindly music teacher who never called on me for a solo.
I suspect he knew how inept I was, but he also knew I had a keen interest in music. Being a kindly soul, he did not shame me in that ineptness. He and I both knowing that failure to play an instrument does not mean lacking music appreciation.
The lessons I most remember are those in which the class discussed the interpretation of music. What did we ‘hear’ within the music? I recall the debate on Chopin’s, ‘Raindrop’ Prelude, Beethoven’s, ‘Pastorale’ Symphony Number 6, Debussy’s, La Mer and of course Rimsky-Korsakov’s, Flight of the Bumblebee. The resounding 1812 Overture by Tchaikovsky was also a favourite for discussion. I recall how the music teacher would take us through Tchaikovsky’s interpretation of the battle, between Napoleon’s Grande Armée and the Russian Army, on Moscow’s outskirts.
First comes the melody of ‘O Lord, Save Thy People’ to represent the Russian people praying for salvation from Napoleon. There follows ‘La Marseillaise’ to describe the advancing French troops. Then one hears ‘La Marseillaise’, ‘in combat’ with Russian folk music as the two armies engage and the French move closer to Moscow. Cannon shots ring out representing the Battle of Borodino and ‘La Marseillaise’ as if in victory, becomes prominent. However, there follows a long descending Run to indicate the French Army retreat in the freezing winter. ‘O Lord, Save Thy People’ is then heard again but this time to answer the Russian people’s prayers. And then the grand finale with all kinds of victory bells ringing, more cannon shots, and the melody of God Save the Tsar!
I’ve heard that piece so many times. Including listening to my son Mark play as part of an orchestra. It was an end of term concert at the music school he attended for a while. As resounding as any professional performance that I’ve heard. The most memorable of which was in the Albert Hall. Unbeknownst to the audience, around the hall’s top gallery stood several small cannons plus attendants dressed in the Russian Imperial Army’s green uniform. It certainly was a grand finale when those cannons went off and smoke billowed into the auditorium. Unforgettable!
However, it was a more tranquil piece of music that brought a lesson to mind on my early morning travels. As it was a recording of ‘Morning Mood’ the underground staff played. Part of the incidental music written by Edvard Grieg to accompany Ibsen’s play, Peer Gynt.
I recalled the music teacher playing a recording of the same piece. Then he asked the class to let the music fire our imaginations. In the play, the music supports Peer Gynt’s actions when stranded in the Moroccan desert, of using a tree branch to ward off marauding monkeys. Yet my mind’s eye saw a more tranquil scene. The slow opening of flowers, insects foraging, small mammals scurrying back and forth as the sun warms them. Eventually, the music reaching a crescendo as the sun blazed in all its glory. Casting light on nature’s magnificence.
Hearing that piece of beautiful music in the underground station in the early morning of a working day acted as a time machine. Taking me back to a classroom of close to half a century ago.
Close your eyes as you listen and see where your mind roams …
