Taming the Savages, or Why it Had to be Jane Who Taught Tarzan How to Speak

On to Vivaldi....

Following Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue, we all gathered at the National Gallery of Art to listen to a free concert of Red Priest performing Vivaldi and other selections of pre- and early Baroque music. Along with us this time where my Mom (it was her birthday) and Spoon (our 4 year old).


None of us knew what we were getting in to. I thought we would go and enjoy some time sitting amongst marble columns and a lot of gray hairs listening to the lovely and uncomplicated strains of The Four Seasons. Boy was I wrong. Despite what you may see on the link for Red Priest, they were not dressed as pirates (though they were in black and red, and did enter wearing Carnival masks and capes) and were infectiously engaged with serious music. However, like a lot of total music nerds, all the flamboyance turns out to be a chimera, hiding the fact that otherwise you might think they were too stuffy and academic about originality and context to enjoy hearing them play. I'll leave it to the others to recapture more of the evening for you, as I want to focus on a couple of specifics.


I have 15 month old twins. And a four year old. I spend all day with them as my husband so aptly put it the other day, very much like the crew following horses in parades. I was reminded though, sitting in the midst of the dimly lit potted green palms and smooth marble columns, with others surrounding me who were not micturating in their own pants, that the whole aim of my business with the children is precisely not just scraping up filth and responding to constant need. It is in fact to lead these savages to not only engage in order and loveliness, but to seek it out. To rule their intensely real emotions, whims, and needs by self-control--being convinced of what it true, beautiful, and good. And because of this to revel even more fully in the wild tumults of creation, creativity, and passion.


Red Priest's front man Piers Adams explained, after the introductory Vivaldi piece, that the rest of the first half of the concert would be devoted to other musicians who were instrumental in developing the Baroque style, in chronological order leading to Vivaldi. The musicians proceeded to educate us through playing through the music how the Baroque style developed, and why Vivaldi was so extraordinary. The concert jarringly reminded me of the one that we had just enjoyed culminating in Gershwin. ...the uneasy first diversions from form, the seeming rough transitions into flights of fancy and spontaneity. Adams described the Baroque style as being "extravagant, rough edged, wild, raucous" music without "rigid form or structure, prone to eccentricities or flights of fancy and often requiring unprecedented virtuosity to perform". The way that Red Priest played the music made complete sense of what Adams had been describing. Furthermore, when it came to listening to Vivaldi's four seasons it was as though our ears had been opened up, that we were not listening to the stayed recognizable flattened down Vivaldi, but the true maturation of getting Baroque right. Unlike Gershwin's fiercely combative combination of forms, Vivaldi had listened to Bassano, Cima, Castello, Cazzati, Gabrielli, and Corelli and had the vision to bring it into a whole round form of its own. I can only describe it in terms of food. It was like a red wine butter emulsion sauce. The delicate tang of the wine riding atop of the depth and richness of the butter, completely transforming both beyond themselves into something altogether more and different. 


The delight though, for me, was something beyond just hearing afresh the overplayed, under-attended music of Vivaldi. The Baroque seems to easily signify the heights of civilization that I am striving for in raising our children. In all it's force and beauty--the struggle of bombast and storm against the exquisite limitations of an instrument played by a man. Encapsulated by the sheer delight of the musicians with each other (community), their shared endeavor (politics), they produced music that delighted their audience (articulate communication)--producing both wild flights of imagination, the exultation in the sheer capacities of man, and the pathos of the storm, the struggle with nature, drunkenness, and the hunt. 


The tensions between fancy and storm were not merely competing experientially, but rather made coherent a whole experience of life, and this only made possible by the devoted study of music and practiced skill of the players. 


What could be a better view of our lively engagement with the world as God has given it to us to pursue?


Jack was recounting to Spoon this week how Tarzan had taught himself to read, but could not speak the words that he could read. Jane taught him to speak. Parents have a lot to accomplish, and thankfully God has given us each other to encourage and lean on--but I think it is particularly the gift of God to women to be the early caregivers. God has specially called us to do this work, but more over--has specially equipped us to do it. If we lose sight of the delights and struggles of leading our children, and instead tire and merely follow them in their unformed and uninformed whims it is a drudgery and constant conflict. That's where I have been for four weeks. Jack graciously has given me two days to refresh myself (with sleep and quiet)--a much needed break. But I pray that God's gift of a loving husband and a civilizing concert--will bring forward in my thoughts the real, fantastic, scintillating work to be done. 


I was able to be encouraged that evening when Spoon stood enraptured by the music for two and a half hours. I sat there with my mom and thought of the gratification she must (hopefully!) feel sitting with me and my daughter--gratitude forcing some perspective on my own work. Spoon has been listening to Susan Hammond's Classical Kids Vivaldi's Ring of Mystery for the past two years. And as we listened to the music she would whisper, "Now they are going to the Isle of the Dead," "This is when she breaks the violin," and so on, referencing the story she had heard. As we told her the story of the seasons as we progressed through them--she was able to start identifying key themes, such as the storm, the birds, etc. But the best part of all was that I was able to glimpse (in the midst of a very trying four weeks), the pursuit of these things that we would be able to enjoy together with our children as we grow, discover, and create as civilized creatures. 

So, Lord, grant me fortitude to carry on the work that you have set out for me, and energy to communicate delight to those that I love.