i love music.
my mom claims that, even in utero, i would start to flip and move whenever a song would play on the radio, or in church. if you were to sit down with a stack of my childhood home videos, it's a sure guarantee that, no matter what age that particular film captured me, i would be singing and dancing for you on the screen.
this love, this passion---has developed into a syndrome of sorts. a disease. i buy music like it's my job. i'm downloading and purchasing CD's pretty much daily. i love discovering something new. a new beat. a new arrangement. new lyrics.
i love words probably even more than i love sound. sometimes, when you're lucky, you'll find a song that describes your feeling perfectly. and it's a relief for so many reasons. first--you feel a release in finally attaining a way to express what you feel. and second-- it's a comfort knowing someone else has been there too. you are not alone.
but behind the words is the melody. the bars. the notes. the tune. and it's these elements that have been fascinating me over the past week. i've always had a love and respect of classical music. of the bare bones---the bread and butter---of what we know as music today. and i've been exploring that foundation through scores. movie scores. tv scores. the world of classical music is so alive and well, and yet receives minimal limelight. people want something they can sing to with the windows rolled down. something they can dance to. something they can fall in love to. but they forget about the music you have to close your eyes and feel. the music that moves you somewhere inside---beyond words. something that speaks beyond language.
when i am listening to these classical tunes, it becomes clear how a deaf person can learn to dance on cue. or how to play piano and compose sonatas. sometimes music is bigger than our senses. bigger than ourselves.
and it takes over.
two favorite scores (at the moment)::
Grey Gardens: by Rachel Portman
Brideshead Revisited: by Terry Davis & the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra