Music Blog

This morning we were asked to consider the different meanings of freedom, especially in context with the Fourth of July: political freedom, religious freedom, historical freedom, freedom from fear, freedom to share one’s truth, and inner, spiritual freedom. The piano works that I selected for today’s service all have a connection with freedom, albeit approaching the topic from different angles.

With yesterday’s holiday in mind, I opened with the American folk song Oh Shenandoah. While not directly about freedom, it has such ties to early America, due to its history as a shanty sung by boatmen traveling back and forth across the Missouri River. It’s sheer serendipity that Rev. Alex spoke of Monticello in her sermon, as both the Shenandoah Valley and Monticello share some commonalities. Both are famously “American” locations with connotations of liberty, the former with its frontier settlers and immigrants in search of freedom and land, the latter as the home of Thomas Jefferson, a vocal advocate for liberty and equality. However, the Shenandoah Valley and Monticello hold histories that contradict its associations of freedom; both utilized slavery as a major part of its operations and livelihood. It’s refreshing to see these two locations with ties to freedom and history beginning to demonstrate reform when sharing their stories today; Alex mentioned Monticello’s progress in telling not only Jefferson’s story but the stories of the those enslaved by him, and the National Park Service now includes a spotlight for African American history in the Shenandoah Valley. The simplicity of Oh Shenandoah belies the complex and not always picture-perfect history of its subject, but it’s sense of longing and spacious land, not to mention its tender lyrics have made it a beloved classic. There are numerous renditions of this old tune, but Keith Jarrett’s improvisation upon Shenandoah is one of my favorites.

The second piece in the prelude is more of a deep cut: one of the themes from the 1998 film The Mask of Zorro. While a swashbuckling period film based upon a pulp fiction vigilante doesn’t seem a likely source for music related to freedom, the historical backdrop of Alta California’s rule shifting from Spain to Mexico provides a theme of rebellion against oppressors. The film is good fun – even if one has to suspend their disbelief when watching an elderly Zorro portrayed with an English accent, thanks to Anthony Hopkins – and its music by the late, great James Horner swings between gloriously adventurous to tender and full of longing. The theme (called Diego’s Goodbye in the rendition provided here) recurs throughout the movie in different guises, first sweeping and heroic, next appearing as a delicate lullaby, then as the love theme. The entire score for the film was well-received; the pop version of the the theme underscoring the credits winning multiple awards, and some said that this original soundtrack surpassed Horner’s most lauded film score, Titanic.

Today’s offertory may have only been known to true blue jazz fans: Hymn to Freedom, by the legendary Oscar Peterson. Years ago, David and I were about to celebrate our first wedding anniversary, and learned that Oscar Peterson would be performing at Dimitriou’s Jazz Alley in Seattle. As a young married couple, and as a young married couple of artists – David was in the middle of his doctoral program at the University of Washington, and I was working as a freelance pianist – the tickets for the concert were way out of our price range. But we both loved Oscar Peterson, and since he was already in his eighties, we knew there might not be many opportunities left to see one of the greatest jazz pianists of all time perform live. (Peterson passed away the following year.) So we put our Oscar Peterson tickets on our credit card, and enjoyed the once in a lifetime opportunity to hear this jazz legend perform. Hymn to Freedom became one of Peterson’s signature works, and its jazzy yet prayerful feel plus its lyrics by Harriette Hamilton made it one of the anthems of the Civil Right’s Movement.

Closing with another Civil Rights Movement anthem, I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free, felt like the perfect way to end the service. The song’s text makes it clear that freedom hasn’t been obtained yet, but the music itself is upbeat, confident, refusing to give in to despair. Written by Billy Porter for his daughter, the song quickly took off and represented the fight for equality and justice for many. Covered by countless artists, the definitive performance is by Nina Simone, who sang the song countless times: sometimes slower, sometimes with more of a gospel feel, but always with hope and determination that equality and freedom would be possible one day.

Photo by David Brooke Martin on Unsplash

It is fitting that Pride and Juneteenth both occupy the same month, as both focus on being free, being seen, and being ourselves.  The human race has made significant strides toward liberty and inclusion, but “othering” still rears its ugly head at times, and there is more work to be done.  Countless works of music would have been appropriate for today’s service, and it was challenging – but fun! – trying to select today’s music.

The prelude opened with George Shearing’s jazzy, modern arrangement of Somewhere Over the Rainbow, the beloved ballad composed by Harold Arlen for The Wizard of Oz.  Full of wistfulness and longing, this song about wishing for a place “where troubles melt like lemon drops” has spoken to generations of people with dreams of a world without fear and exclusion.  The famous melodic leap from “Some” to “where” demonstrates some subtle text painting; the octave ascends as if reaching and searching for this new idyllic place. Renowned jazz pianist and composer Sir George Shearing reframed the familiar melody with new harmonies and dissonances that add complexity to the song, while retaining the hope of the original. Shearing played his version of this song as an upbeat tune when playing with his jazz trio, but the work is arranged so well that it is often played as a piano solo with a slower, reflective air, as performed today.

True Colors was originally created with a much different vision in mind. Composer Billy Steinberg (who also penned several other commercial hits from the 80s and 90s) originally wrote this as a gospel song in honor of his mother, trying to express the concept of a parent’s unconditional love for their child. His songwriting partner Tom Kelly thought that the idea of someone loving you exactly as you are was beautiful, and could be applied to all kinds of relationships, not just mother and child; so the two modified the song to express any and all unconditional love. Cyndi Lauper wanted to sing the song, and when Steinberg and Kelly listened to her recording, they were surprised and enamored by the lean, stark character of her rendition – a far cry from the song’s original gospel style. Its message is simple but powerful: our truest selves are not something to hide, apologize for, or diminish, and if we let our true colors shine through, there will be people who find them beautiful and worthy of love.

There are so many wonderful pieces of music about love, acceptance, equality, inclusion, pride, and Pride, and it was hard to narrow down which pieces I would select for today’s service. But I think I always knew that I would play Somewhere from the seminal West Side Story, by Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim. This song marks a pivotal point in the musical: Tony has accidentally killed Maria’s brother Bernardo, and the chance of any sort of happy ending for the lovers seems all but destroyed. They cling to the fragile hope that a life without prejudice, violence, and fear can still be possible “somewhere”. But the song isn’t just remarkable for its dramatic power; the composition is a marvel of melodic, harmonic, and text writing, frequently held up by performers, scholars, and composers as an example of a perfectly crafted song. The melody is full of reaching, grasping intervals, including the seldom used melodic minor seventh, leaning into the interval’s natural uncertainty. The unexpected harmonic progressions keep the song suspended between stability and uncertainty, and the phrases resolve a little differently than you expect them to, mirroring Tony and Maria’s emotions: frightened and unsure, but with moments of hope and tenderness. And the text…Sondheim’s lyrics in his own works are wickedly clever, very cerebral and extremely funny. But in Somewhere, he refrained from gilding the lily and the simplicity of his words transform this song into a prayer as simple as the things that Tony and Maria long for. They have no desire for riches or grandeur, glory or material possessions; they dream of the simple things that we would all have in an ideal world: safety, love, acceptance, and peace.

Today’s postlude was I’m Coming Out, made famous by the incomparable Diana Ross. It is jubilant, demands attention, and is gloriously declarative. This song has been claimed long ago as a Pride anthem of visibility and self-acceptance. And through the lens of Juneteenth, it can also be heard as a celebration of liberation – freedom from oppression, and the freedom to experience joy, dignity, identity, and a rightful presence in the world. There is no shortage of joy in this song, and its energy felt like an appropriate way to end the morning. May we all know the freedom of coming out into the world as our true selves, and with pride in who we are.

BONUS ITEM #1 – BEHIND THE SCENES: Today’s music for reflection was going to be an outline – but not a full realization – of John Lennon’s Imagine, using the harmonic progression paired with fragments of the melody. However, due to a series of ridiculous events, this did not happen! Shortly after the service started, one of my contact lenses started shifting around; I suspect the small fan I had blowing on my face might have sent a speck of dust into my eye. Reduced to seeing with only one eye, I reached into my bag to grab my glasses, and then realized that they must have fallen out when I knocked my bag over last night. I slipped out to get the glasses I keep in my car, then came back in trying to be as quietly as possible. In my efforts to be inconspicuous, I squeezed my keys to keep them from jangling, but ended up squeezing the Tile tracker on my keys…which sets off a ringer on my phone even if it is silenced, so that I can locate it if lost. I spent the time that I would have pulled up Imagine on my iPad leaping into action to silence my phone instead, and then needed to start playing immediately, to avoid any dead space…as a result, I just improvised some delicate chord progressions, all while wishing I could start the day over! 🤣

BONUS ITEM #2 – O LOVE, by Elaine Hagenberg: If today’s choral anthem sounded familiar, revisit this blog post to find out how you already knew this song…

I have such a great view from the piano bench on Sunday mornings. I get to see faces I have come to know in different ways as they experience what they are seeing, hearing, and feeling before them. (Please don’t feel self-conscious…if it helps, David and I are up in front of you all the time!) Today I saw pride, nostalgia, amusement, tenderness, and joy. Some folks were celebrating their own children at the front of the room, while others may have been remembering rites of passage from their own history. There was laughter when our youth let their personalities and candor shine through their prepared words, and camaraderie and support as we watched a friend take a symbolic step forward. The whole service was not only a beautiful way to recognize transitions but a reminder that “growing up” isn’t just for children, and today’s piano selections reflected how we are always growing into new versions of ourselves as we learn and change.

Joni Mitchell’s The Circle Game is such a wonderful song about the passage of time, using the metaphor of a carousel to paint the cycle of seasons we move through in our lives. This familiar imagery represents how quickly life moves as well as how it’s not always easy to notice change as we are living through it, since we are focused on what is presently happening the ride rather than the journey. Joni Mitchell gives the definitive performances of her song, but since readers likely already know her renditions of The Circle Game, I offer here a performance by the inspiring PS22 Chorus. While they have performed with renowned artists and reputable events/venues (including the White House, the Oscars, and on Sesame Street), it’s this choir’s unpretentious background as a music class at a public elementary school that will make you fall in love with their earnestness, sweet young voices, and love of music.

Dos Oruguitas (“Two Little Caterpillars”) accompanies the story of Abuela Alma Madrigal and her husband, Pedro, in the Disney film Encanto. Using the imagery of two caterpillars who must let go of one another in order to become butterflies, the song is about love, separation, transformation, and pain. The story asks us to recognize that growth can require courage, and is sometimes the result of grief and loss. But it also reminds us that love does not disappear when life changes; it comes into our lives in different forms. We love as children, as siblings, as partners, as parents, as elders, as friends, and as members of a community…and each new form of love asks us to grow.

“How Far I’ll Go,” from Disney’s Moana, comes from a very different kind of story, but also speaks powerfully to growth. The teenage Moana loves her home and her people, yet feels drawn toward the ocean and toward a calling she does not completely understand. The song gives musical form to the moments when we recognize that there is more than just our familiar world, when something inside us begins asking where we are meant to go, and when wonder what we are meant to learn and who we are meant to become. That question belongs to children and teens, but it also belongs to adults. There are many moments in life when we find ourselves like Moana, standing at the edge of what we know, wondering what lies beyond the horizon.

(It is worth noting that the music from Encanto and Moana are by the extraordinary Lin-Manuel Miranda, who also penned the Tony and Pulitzer-awarded Hamilton. Both movies are stunning – visually and musically, and in their deeply moving stories – and if you are not familiar with either one, these beautiful, beautiful films about heritage, family, and culture are worth checking out, whether you are very young, very old, or somewhere in-between.)