It strikes again!

 

It happened infinite times during my life: every time I stay away for awhile from classical music, lounging with beloved ECMs’ or other adventurous, weird musics, when I listen to a nice disc of timeless music, I - strange or not - get tears in my eyes for a long, sweet, pleasant moment.

It’s like I’m back at my grandparents house… I feel a sense of belonging, an heimat, where that atavistic sense of belonging and foundation —forged through thousands of hours spent playing and listening to diverse music from across the globe—occasionally demands a return to the home of one’s forebears… a home with walls crowded by portraits of the musical geniuses I have loved throughout my life. No reproach from anyone—only a deep, reciprocated affection for this wondrous music, so untethered from our own frenzied times.

… and, as it happens, it is taking place right now—while I listen, deeply moved, to this wonderful Mendelssohn record conducted by Claudio Abbado—and peace is with me.

The mystery of dozens of men and women all harmoniously playing their parts, diligently… some soloing, then idling, all bringing their skills and art, in peace.

Music is truly the best… it truly is.