A RECENT music composition caught my attention last week.  It was written by a former colleague of mine, David Jones, who is currently a pursuing a doctorate degree in composition at Rice University.  The piece is called Soliloquy for Violin.  Here is a recording performed by Lauren Anderson, who will be performing the piece for her own graduate violin recital this coming January.  Just a warning, it isn't for the musically faint of heart (...or ear rather).  

QUITE THE piece isn't it?  As I said, it may be difficult to grasp by the everyday listener.  I myself am no musicologist, but I'll offer some bits of explanation that may help in the process of appreciating the music. 

FIRST OF all, in the description under the YouTube video, David Jones says the inspiration for the music began when he saw the empty cicada shells near his home in Houston, Texas.  It was funny to me to read this.  I grew up in the Midwest area where cicadas are an everyday thing.  I often forget they're out there, regardless of how loud they can become during the day.  It caught my wife off guard the first time she came out to see my family.  Due to the humidity in addition to the screaming cicadas I seem to remember her saying she felt like she was in the middle of some South American jungle.  For those who haven't heard a cicada, here is a video with a good depiction of what they sound like.  Their call can be heard for miles around.   

MANY APOLOGIES for those who have a disliking for bugs.  They're also known to be quite large.  They're several inches long, and larger around than your thumb (and completely harmless at the same time... I promise).  Anyway, their song is something I grew up with that I've even grown quite fond of, similar to the beating rain of the summer storms that would pound on our ceiling as I would fall asleep at night.  The shimmering of the violin brought back many memories of my childhood.  It's a shockingly similar sound to the cicada.     
​
WHAT DAVID mentions specifically is their shells they would find in their yard.  They can be slightly alarming, especially for a mother who's children bring them inside, eagerly showing off their prizes.  Here's a pic below.  

DON'T WORRY, it's just an empty shell.  They're even more harmless than the cicadas that come out of them.  In the picture you can see the hole along the back where the cicada pulled itself out, complete with wings, ready to fly up to the tops of the trees to find a mate.  

THIS IS where David Jones' story becomes touching and personal.  The piece is called a "soliloquy."  A soliloquy, per dictionary.com, is "an act of speaking one's thoughts aloud when by oneself or regardless of any hearers, especially by a character in a play."  This happens a lot in drama.  For a Disney example, think  of all the characters taking a few moments to sing a song about their dilemma.  "Let it Go" from Disney's Frozen is actually a pretty good example.  During the song, Elsa sings through her thought process as she decides to quit hiding her "icy" gifts.  In the case for Soliloquy for Violin, the character of the play is the composer himself, with no words involved.  The description he gave with the YouTube video describes the thoughts he transcribed into the music,

our home and belongings destroyed by floodwaters was devastating. In the time that followed, many hands reached out to help us as we salvaged what we could from our old place, found a new apartment, and began rebuilding our lives. We couldn’t be more grateful."

​"DURING THIS difficult time for my family, this piece became more deeply personal. It became an opportunity for me to express some of the frustration and pain I felt during the ordeal of the flood and the process of rebuilding. What began as a simple exploration of cicada shells transformed into a journey of loss, grief, recovery, and new beginnings."

​THE LAST line I find especially meaningful, "What began as simple exploration of cicada shells transformed into a journey of loss, grief, recover, and new beginnings."  What a great fact of life we all receive opportunities to receive at varying times in our lives.  Even now, forest fires are continuing to rampage California, leaving many people homeless, their belongings consumed by fire.  I can't imagine what it would be like to lose everything you own to a natural disaster.  In David's piece I particularly get a sense of the pain involved as it becomes more dramatic as it goes a long. 

YET THE prospect of a new beginning brings hope.  One of my favorite scriptures is found in Ether 12:4 "Whosoever believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world."  For many people, we can be the means of bringing that hope to life.  David Jones mentioned many people who came in to help them recover their home after hurricane Harvey.  As a part of this holiday season we all have some way or another to reach out and restore hope and confidence in those in less fortunate than us.  I think that as we reach out in fulfilling others' hopes, our own desires for new beginnings and fresh starts can be made even more real.  More, just as the Cicada loses its shell to become a more perfect version of itself (complete with wings and musical functions) so too we, as we serve others and work through our new beginnings, find more perfect versions of ourselves that are more like our Heavenly Father, and more like the person he wants us to become.  ​

The last few days I've had to curb my music arranging appetite to spend more time finishing an informal research study I've been conducting as part of my graduate degree.  It has yielded some rather fascinating aspects that have perked my interest being the father of an 18 month old.  (Today is actually his 18 month birthday, Happy Birthday Daniel!)

Anyway, to make a long story short, I was struck by a book by Daniel N. Stern that was recommended to me by a fellow grad student.  He did an in depth study on the unique relationship between a mother and her infant child.  (It's titled, "The First Relationship" for those who want to read it).  In it he focused on some of the most minute behaviors that both mothers and children exhibit in their interactions with each other.  It got me thinking about the intimacy of that relationship.  A relationship so strong that spouses often feel jealous or neglected.  Fast forward to further in the study, I found in my own survey that while formal musical training predicted high levels of musical confidence, musical confidence did not predict how frequently a parent would musically interact with their child.  At first I was rather disappointed as this result completely disproved my hypothesis I had written a few months before.  Regardless, as I got to thinking about it, it made perfect sense. 

Let me explain.  We innately use music as part of various activities at home with our children.  We sing them good night, we sing to them as we play, we sing to them to pass time in the car.  It's an incredibly adaptive parenting skill that makes parenting a whole lot easier.  (That's actually the main point of my entire paper).  How lucky we are then, that we don't feel self conscious in front of our infant children.  How could you feel self conscious singing in front of your two year old?  Any parent that has held a newborn infant in their arms will acclaim to the sweet innocence they sense in their arms.  One of the greatest things about working with children is their acceptance.  They love you as you are, mistakes and all.  And because of this we innately feel comfortable singing to them, no matter how horrible, off pitch, or off rhythm we are.  They simply lie there, stare at you, and love you all the same.  #PureMusic can't get much purer than that.

This got me thinking about the intimate nature of music.  There are many, many songs composed that have been written for significant others.  Most music out there is written about love.  But more than the topics we choose to sing about, is when we use them.  Music takes a part in so many intimate settings.  Even if we are not performing the music ourselves, it is often been played by a musical device either electronic or nonelectronic creating romantic moods out of thin air.  It adds to my personal testimony of the power in music.  Christ loved people individually.  He went to them in groups, but more especially one on one.  This is how he healed, this is how he taught Nicodemus of the Sanhedrin.  Recall also the story where he kicked out the "mourners" in the house of a so called deceased child, so it would be just him and the family of the child, just before he revived her.  Christ was able to create intimate settings that enabled him to more powerfully minister to the people he served.  So too can we use music to make for more intimate environments around us, helping us to more effectively bring those around us to Christ.  I'd honestly like to see more singing done, not just at home, but in informal meetings across the church and the community.  I know wards and congregations will find themselves being drawn together more closely and intimately as they share music in more of their meetings, both formal and informal.  It will help all of us, individually, and as a church, to overcome all of the challenges that come our way.  

I am one among many missionaries that will acclaim that my mission was one of the hardest things I've ever done in life.  (Though not the hardest, maybe I'll post  about that venture at some point).  Among the things that I endured was going through a total of 5 bikes on my mission.   Two of them were stolen, one of them brand new, the other still bloody from an accident (He literally stole a bloody bicycle... that would be more funny in the UK).  I lost count of all the flat tires after the first month in a biking area.  I had a few bike accidents, one of which resulting in 15 stitches across 3 layers (Thus the bloody bicycle), with a scar on my chin I have to this day.  I endured heat over 110 degrees fahrenheit amidst going door to door, (one of the harder and inefficient methods of missionary work).  As hard as it is for many that know me to imagine, I got in all sorts of arguments with my companions, and even with ward mission leaders and bishops.  Of course, there was the rejection as well.  A whole street with brass engraved plaques on their doorways saying "no mormons," many, many anti-mormons, (they seem to be a bit more frequent in California), the day after Mitt Romney lost the presidential election was particularly full of critics.  This is just a small snapshot on the things I went through.  Looking back after some courses in abnormal psychology, I'm quite certain of a few periods of working through a depressive episode.  There were times there was literal darkness that I felt was closing in on my vision.  Each night however, I eventually started listening to Mack Wilberg's arrangement of "Praise to the Lord, the Almighty."  I had a copy of the song on CD and I would listen to it over and over, the words coming into my mind throughout each day.   I'm surprised my companions didn't bring it up too much.  I felt empowered through the triumphantly acclaimed music sung by the excellent choir.  The words were especially uplifting.  Here's the arrangement I would listen to performed by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and Orchestra at Temple Square,

The words go thus,

​Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation!  
O my soul, praise him, for his is thy health and salvation!
Join the great throng,
Psaltery organ and song,
Sounding in glad adoration.

Praise to the Lord! Over all things he gloriously reigneth.
Borne  as on eagle wings, safely his Saints he sustaineth.
Hast thou not seen
How all thou needest hath been
Granted in what he ordaineth?

Praise to the Lord, who doth prosper thy way and defend thee.
Surely his goodness and mercy shall ever attend thee.  
Ponder anew
​what the Almighty can do,
Who with his love doth befriend thee.  

Priase to the Lord!  Oh let all that is in me adore him!
All that hath breath, join with Abraham's seed to adore him!
Let the amen
sum all our praises again
Now as we worship before him.  

This song helps me to remember that God is in control of everything.  He is aware of everything, and he has a specific plan for each one of us, each of us having a specific mission to accomplish on earth, each being a critical part of God's entire plan.  The hymn states, "hast thou not seen how all (that) thou needest hath been granted in what he ordaineth?" (Verse 2).  God is powerful, and as I reflect on my mission I remember powerfull moments when God's power literally made the right things happen despite mounting opposition.  I still remember watching a woman's shoulders relax after giving her a blessing for  chronic depression and recovery from severe surgery, having no man of the house to provide income as she recovered.  I remember watching the excitement of a 12 year old autistic boy as he was finally able to fulfill his own desire to be baptized.  I remember watching hope come into the eyes of people I taught in the slums of the crime ridden, downtown Longbeach, as I read Ether 12:4, "whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world."  Above all, watching the last few members of two different families get baptized, their families later being sealed together in the temple of God.  Their trials were far from over, but I have no doubt in the power of the temple ordinances in their lives.  The feelings that come over me as I remember those experiences can't be put in words.  Just watching the power of God be made manifest in those around me, knowing I was able to be an instrument in making that power become an active part in the lives of the people  I loved.   It was a thrilling experience I will never forget.  

Thit is one of the things I am thankful for this coming Thanksgiving.  Despite all the affliction, all the insecurities, and being unsure in the outcome of our futures, I know that God's power is real.  As I make myself a part of the gospel of Jesus Christ, I become a part of God's work (Moses 1:39), and God's work never fails.  "Remember, remember that it is not the work of God that is frustrated, but the work of men;" (Doctrine and Covenants 3:3).  Therefore I will never fail.  As my wife has said before, "if it doesn't end with a happy ending, that just means the end hasn't come yet."

This is some of the many things I think of as I play my own arrangement of Praise to the Lord the Almighty for solo piano.  It's not so much a triumphal version like the one I enjoyed from the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, but a more meditative arrangement that I enjoy playing when I have a lot on my mind.  I'm still working on getting a recording on soundcloud.  I'll keep you in touch as that comes available.  Meanwhile, you can also try playing through the sheet music I have available.  It's a simple piece, accessible by more elementary level pianists, that I consider beautiful despite the simplicity.  It has a more New Age ring to it.  I hope the arrangement helps people ponder all those things that we have to be grateful for, although not always remember.  

I would love to hear your comments on moments you have have felt God's power in your own lives.  I'm all ears!

HONESTLY, AT the beginning of the activity I was at a bit of a loss for what could be made with the different materials.  The attempt above was one of several.  Not too bad, if I do say so myself, but yet really not too much when compared to what all the other kids did.  There were varying types of "towers," kids making miniature playgrounds, moats around their favorite stuffed animals.  What particularly struck me is how creative the kids were with harder to use materials.  There were paper clips included in the materials I was given and I was pretty clueless as to how we were expected to use them in combination with everything else we had.  The kids were naturals.  My attention wasn't just drawn to the kids' ingenuity either, I was struck by the ingenuity of the various different races that were represented as well.  Everyone had some good ideas at different ways to use the materials.  

         MY ENTIRE LIFE I've had a bit of a ravenous craving to discover how the power of music works.  One day, after a particularly successful day practicing piano while pursuing my music degree, I lay in bed unable to sleep as I felt so energized from the music I'd been practicing.  I'm a sucker for deep thought, and I found myself thinking on how it came to be that I felt so energized.  Words began to form in my mind, and I felt particularly prompted to get up and write the words down.  I eventually managed to make myself crawl out of bed to put them on paper, (this was probably well after midnight).  The next day I did my best to discern what it was I had written in the dark, and continued to edit the words until I came up with this poem...