House-music, kitchen-music, living-room ceili-music – how I do love all of these! I’ve had a few chances lately to sit down with a group of friends and make an evening of music the old-fashioned way, without mike stands and amps and cords and fuss. Just friends and their voices and instruments, and a whole lot of enthusiasm and fun. If you do this yourself, you know that house-music leaves a blessing on the room in which it’s played (rather like stories; I can still feel them ringing even hours after they’ve been told), and it also blesses the players. We did this last night to celebrate the birthday of my friend Kathleen’s sweetheart, Craig. I’d pick up my flute to play and her new pug puppy would run over and jump up on my leg, and so my playing was punctuated with laughter and kisses. Can it get better than that?
At the same time, I’m wild about club-music, library-music, hall-music, art center-music, too, and especially when these musics partake of the warmth and openness of house-music. My friend Cynthia and I recently performed at the Elysium Arts Folk Club in Rollinsford, NH, and our evening felt as intimate and warm as though we’d spent it in a big kitchen with a gang of people we love.
More and more, what moves me is what’s real. Craft is real. Effort is real. Sincerity is real. Even problems and honest discussions about them are real. Whenever anyone peels away the wrappings and addresses our hearts directly, I bow to their bravery and acknowledge the life-giving impulse of what they offer. Impulse, after all, is just that: the pulsing within of our real, honest, imperfect, doing-the-best-we-can hearts. The impulse to make music is beautiful in itself. The impulse to know where your fellow players are going and to join them there – all of you turning in the air like a flock of swallows – this, too, is a beautiful mystery.
I remember being taught that people could ruin their lives through impulsiveness, but perhaps it’s true that they can also save them this way. Maybe the two aren’t so far apart. Maybe, like swallows and like musicians, the most life-giving action is to turn swiftly in the air into the beauty of the music – and to follow it into the houses, into the halls, into the wild places, and into the moments that feel real and alive. Pug moments. Friend moments. Wild, lonely, uncertain moments. Shining moments of certainty and holiness.
That’s music, dear friends. That’s the music we’re making together in our living rooms and in our lives. What an honor it is to honor this impulse with you!
