The Music Instinct

Is there such a thing?  Instincts, after all, are those behaviors which are unlearned and happen automatically, as a form of survival.  For example, the sucking instinct, to ensure that the infant obtain nourishment from its mother; or the instinct to run almost immediately after birth, to escape hungry lions; or even more primitive, the instinct to start breathing soon after birth.  But is there such a thing as the music instinct?

If we peel away some layers, we see that music consists of tones and rhythm.  Certainly, rhythm might well be part of instinct if we liken it to a primordial reminder of a mother's heartbeat.  Sound, too, might be instinctive.  We don't need to learn to hear; and nature is full of all kinds of sounds - birds communicate by sound, as do other creatures.  Man has used the sound of beating on various objects (tree trunks, stretched skins) to communicate over vast distances.  In fact, sound itself is a vibration that physically strikes the ear drum, and the cochlea is tuned to certain frequencies.  So it is not too far fetched to think that sounds may well reside in our reptilian brains as instincts of some sort.  We may have to sharpen our senses at a hissing sound or a growling sound; we certainly would have to identify the direction and distance of sounds, and take protective measures as necessary.  Primitive man discovered that certain sticks and stones made pleasing sounds that appealed to potential mates, and developed those instruments as an aid to courtship.  These examples may well point to an instinctive well that inspired the creation of music in the evolving human being.

Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125, Leonard Bernstein

I'm not always in the mood for Beethoven. His music sometimes seems overbearing, too intense. This is not one of those times. In listening to the 9th Symphony, it occurs to me that the music is downright sexual. Listen to the crescendos, to the "conversation" among the instruments, the highs and lows, the decidedly intense rise at 19:02, the subsequent tempering. It's akin to a young lover woeing a young woman, bringing her a daisy, her rejecting him coquetishly, he pursuing her with poetry, or a gift of a book, an invitation. It's beautiful -- and quite powerful. Listen, especially, to 59:30 for what I would consider the climax in this piece of music! Goose bumps! True Ode to Joy! At 59:50 and at 1:00:05 is a section of harmony that is simply exquisite (...vas di mode...). I'd love to have someone in the music world explain that one to me: I'm in thrall at those points.

It is quite impossible to pick one or two sections in such a resplendent piece of music. To think that Beethoven was stone deaf when he composed it is remarkable in itself.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-3QtlrqKoTc&feature=related

An Extraordinary Woman

In the book, "This is Your Brain on Music: The Science of a Human Obsession," the author, Daniel J. Levitin, Ph.D. discusses the important influence that music has on the human being. He has analyzed the science behind music, and has come up with some remarkable conclusions, not the least of which is the fact that we "hear" with our entire bodies. Sound, as the physicists among us would confirm, is a physical manifestation, not some amorphous "thing" that passes through our ear drums.

In that vein, a musician by the name of Evelyn Glennie is one of the most remarkable people I have ever encountered. She is a Scottish percussionist, and in this video, she explains how she "hears" with her entire body; how the sounds that emanate from her various instruments are assimilated and manifested within her. She speaks eloquently, distinctly, with a lovely Scottish brogue that belies the fact that she is profoundly deaf.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qra2Dp9KZkI&feature=results_main&playnext=1&list=PL19CE3884E6DD355C

Sometimes, the Mood is Charles Aznavour

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f23hb1iLOBQ

[caption id="" align="alignright" width="227" caption="Image via Wikipedia"][/caption]

 

Incomparable, romantic, seductive.  His lyrics are unapologetic and suggestive, at times profound.  His gravelly voice rasps on the soul, tugs at the mind.  This is Aznavour's "La Boheme."  In French, the words are the most emotive and poignant.  I may translate them sometime.