The
very word makes my heart sing. Victor Hugo once said that 'Music
expresses that which cannot be said, and on which it is impossible to
be silent.' I had never heard such an apt description of music's
purpose before I read that quote. An equally apt description of music
itself is more difficult to find. It is an illusive thing; existing,
but being hopelessly indefinable. And it is not as if definition has
not been tried; yet, 'an art of sound in time that expresses ideas
and emotions in significant forms through the elements of rhythm,
melody, harmony, and color', doesn't seem to describe how moved,
excited or satisfied we can be by listening to it.
Music
resonates with our soul. Well-written songs and lilting melodies,
heavy beats and intriguing lyrics tug at our heart. They have the
power to move us to action or slow us to such a point of no action at
all. They have the power to persuade. They have the power to spark
revolutions. They have the power to change the world.
I
write music. I handle this beautiful power when I write.
Anyone
who writes music is handling it. How they handle it is up to them,
but every word has a consequence. The words determine what
revolutions are sparked and what parts of the world are changed.
Anyone
who listens to music also handles it. But what they do with it
once they have heard it is the listener's decision, completely.
'Will
You Help Me', from The Village soundtrack, is an example of
the power carried within simple notes and phrases. It is a beautiful
piece. I did not truly notice it at first, though I listened to it
every now and again, but then slowly, it grew on me. It found my
heart and thumped into it. And I could not- cannot -pick why.
Perhaps it is the gentle slurring of the notes as they mingle
together, or the heartfelt ache of the violin. I don't know. What I
do know is that whenever I hear it, I feel so sad, so joyful, and so
empowered, all at once. And I love that.
