All of the arts enrich our lives, but I think only music can
give us moments that transcend reality and show us a glimpse of the ethereal. Over
the course of more than fourscore years I’ve experienced this a few times, unforgettable
moments that made me vividly aware we are more than bones and sinew and even
thought.
One such experience was during a performance of Verdi’s Messa
da Requiem performed at Lincoln Center by the New York Philharmonic and
Westminster College Choir. A section of the Dies Irae, “Tuba mirum
spargens sonum” (“The trumpet, scattering a wondrous sound”). Verdi in his
brilliance used a multitude of trumpets to depict that “wondrous sound.” In
this performance, I have no idea how many trumpets we actually heard, but they
were positioned throughout the room, on all sides of and I think even above the
audience.
A single trumpet begins on a medium pitch. Sound is layered as
more and more trumpets join, the volume and pitch rise to an almost unbearable
intensity, timpani is added, and finally full orchestra and chorus break forth
in a tidal wave of sound which is overwhelming and incredibly thrilling. At
some point during this magnificent music, I felt myself elevated. I literally
felt I was floating. I knew I was in a seat in what for me will always be Avery
Fischer Hall … but I was also in another place, a place of such awesome and
dazzling beauty I could only weep in wonderment.
I thought of that experience when I wrote my second novel, Eli’s
Heart, in 2014. I’ve recently been revisiting the book, making a few
changes by applying some of the skills I learn as I continue to write. With
every art, whether visual, musical, or literary, we never stop learning and
growing. American soprano Renée Fleming, one of the world’s most famous opera
singers, recently referred to herself as a “work in progress.” I admired her
even more on hearing that.
Eli Levin and Kristina Porter meet as young teens. They’re separated for three
years, and then find their way back to each other and realize they want to
spend their lives together. Music is what brought them into each other’s lives.
Eli is a piano prodigy who was born with a serious congenital heart defect, and
since this is the 1950s, they honestly don’t know how long his life might be.
But however long they may have, they know music will be the heart of their
love.
They’re both in college but on campuses some six hundred
miles apart. They have a magical weekend together, make plans to marry in a year,
and just before they have to go back to their separate lives, Eli plays piano
one final time for Krissy. She sits on the piano bench with him as he plays,
and they have this moment.
**
Eli had been born with two
things: a damaged heart and a heart filled with music. That was how Krissy
saw him now, and how she would always think of him. He played for her, and she
closed her eyes and opened herself up to the music he was making.
Rachmaninoff’s Prelude in G Minor
began with repeated thick chords and heavy octave passages with large leaps up
and down the keyboard, played rapidly. Eli pushed the tempo slightly; he loved
doing that, especially with Rachmaninoff. The prelude had a grandeur and sweep
to it, and demanded technical facility and strength. As with much of his music,
Rachmaninoff slowed the tempo and introduced a beautiful melody, and the music
became completely different, almost ethereal.
As soon as Eli started the
lyrical section, he felt some kind of shift in reality. The light became a soft
glow, the air seemed different. He could feel his hands on the keys, he knew
Krissy was touching him, but he felt he became a conduit for the music. It
flowed through him and around him, opening up time and space. He continued to
have a sense of transcendence through most of the section, and then the music
gradually returned to the original idea, the sense of being somewhere else left
him, and he was again sitting at Krissy’s piano playing Rachmaninoff for her.
When he finished the piece, he sat quietly for a moment. He turned to look at Krissy, and he could tell by the look of wonder on her
face that she had made the journey with him. He asked softly, “Did you feel
that?” Not wanting to speak, she nodded. They sat close together without
feeling any need to talk, knowing what they had just experienced was
remarkable.
https://www.amazon.com/Elis-Heart-Carousel-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B00LE5MNAK
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