Lift Every Voice and the Convergence of Things

"Everything that rises must converge," the title story of Flannery O'Connor's 1965 collection of short stories, comes from "Omega Point" (an idea I don't necessarily ascribe to) by the French philosopher Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. In it he writes (translated here by our friends who wrote the Wikipedia article about him),"Remain true to yourself, but move ever upward toward greater consciousness and greater love! At the summit you will find yourselves united with all those who, from every direction, have made the same ascent. For everything that rises must converge."

Last night's Summer Strings concert was one of those rising and converging moments, though the rising and converging happened among people who would not necessarily agree with de Chardin, if they even knew who he was (I didn't until I started writing this post). In six ninety-minute-long rehearsals over a period of six weeks, this group of east-central-Illinois musicians of all ages and all abilities, managed to pull off a one-hour-long program of music that was filled with musical challenges of all stripes (including expressive ones).

The program began with an arrangement of "Lift Ev'ry Voice and Sing" that you can hear here. There were a few moments of wind that challenged the microphone, but it was a small price to pay for having absolutely perfect weather for this concert.

As some people who read this blog know, Michael and I live in what has become an epicenter for the kind of political thought that is minority thought in the coastal and urban parts of the country that we are more aligned with. But we do what we can, and give what we can to the community where we live. And in this ensemble, which is a mixture of not only people of all ages and abilities, but of people on all sides of the political spectrum, everyone is giving the best part of themselves to the music at hand, and enjoying the better parts of all of their neighbors.

This is what music does. And it is, for me, the best part of making music.

Another "arm" of this musical convergence for me is a book I am reading that I will be writing a post about closer to its release date in November of this year. Suzuki: the man and his dream to teach the children of the world, by the historian Eri Hotta, puts Shinichi Suzuki's life, with component parts that I never knew about, into the framework of Japanese history as well as twentieth-century world history. Suzuki's idea (or one of Suzuki's ideas, borrowed from his extra-musical process of self-education) that music can make the world a better and kinder place resonated loudly (and sometimes whispered softly, because dynamics were at play) with me last night.

If you go to this post, there is a link at the bottom to a folder that has recordings of everything we played.