Tai
Chi Chuan – Opera and Patience
I
have discussed this before, but here goes!
I
just lent a musically savvy friend a copy of Britten’s A Midsummer Night’s
Dream. It’s a great work. My musical friend gave it a real try, but he
missed 95% of it. Like, it mostly didn’t
register.
I
was a fan of the Mozart operas because I was so familiar with the Mozart sound,
which I loved. I became interested in
opera and La Boheme (due to the popularity of Rent) in particular. Another friend recommended a great recording of
La Boheme to buy and listen to. I recall
first hearing the beloved Puccini masterpiece and scratching my head. What on earth did ANYONE hear in this
work? I heard one song that grabbed my
attention but the rest, unlike Mozart, seemed meandering and even
non-melodic. Can you imagine anyone
thinking Puccini as non-melodic? Puccini
critics find him to be too melodic, almost pandering to the lowest popular
instincts, much like an Andrew Lloyd Weber musical. My friend encouraged me to keep
listening. I did, and finally I was
struck by what it is you are listening to when you listen to Puccini. I fell in
love.
The
issue here is not whether I liked or disliked the composer. My point here is that what I was comfortable
with did not easily transfer into a different musical sensibility. The issue was I couldn’t even hear what
others found appealing (regardless of my own feeling.) Mozart is crisp and punchy, with a sort of
zest that moves the opera forward.
Puccini has long leisurely lines of melody and the orchestra gives the work
forward movement, often referring to earlier motifs as points of
reference. Some Puccini melodies are
clean and identifiable and often rapturous.
But other sections are just as compelling and dramatic as characters
talk to each other and move the plot forward.
Two famous arias in La Boheme are sort of lyrical monologues that seem
to have no solid melody at all, relying on motif style delivery.
And
then there is Wagner. Etc.
How
I found a love of Britten, I don’t recall.
He is oblique with a subtle mix of dissonance and lyricism. Dialogues emerge into full motifs but it is
hard to trace the development unless you are very familiar with the piece. He can be direct, but more often he is very
indirect. It is a thrilling musical
language. It took me years before I
could appreciate his opera The Turn of the Screw, many consider to be a masterpiece.
Curiosity
of one sort or other kept me engaged.
What do others hear in this work?
What is the composer doing? With
Britten, questions still linger and those questions keep me coming back for
more. What is Britten up to in these
long meandering passages from Oberon, king of the fairies, with his oddly eerie
countertenor voice?
And
so it is with tai chi. What you see on
day one is but a fraction of where you might go if you take it up as a
practice. Initially, practice is just an
act of remembering what you were taught.
The real core of tai chi is far off.
Each student connects to it from a different angle. Each student finds a path based on who they
are. Curiosity is required, and so is
persistence and patience. And it changes
along the way – something that most students don’t really expect. Yes, students expect to see improvement and “get
better”, but change is a completely different issue. It is ONLY by keeping engaged that the
changes appear.
Often
students arrive on day one, take a peak, draw a conclusion, and decide this is
not for them. What they don’t know is
that they really need about 50 lessons to make that decision. Something has to give them faith that there
is something here that may be useful in life.
In tai chi, it doesn’t happen quickly, certainly not on day one.
There
is another kind of student who also quickly leaves tai chi. These students are extremely enthusiastic, think
they see the value, love to practice, and begin to wear T shirts with Yin-Yang
emblems or Chinese characters. That is,
there is a huge fantasy going on and when that fantasy is disappointed, they
quit. It takes more than fantasy to keep
you going.
I
myself was bored but knew I needed to practice.
I would tell myself that I only needed to do the first move and then I
could stop if I felt like it. But that
first move got me going and I never failed to continue with the day’s practice.
I
get a kick out of telling people I love Britten operas. He’s sophisticated and my ego enjoys
displaying my refined sensibility. I know I’m being snobby. Mostly Britten operas are unknown,
misunderstood and even derided. I’m so
esoteric, right?
But
I dislike telling people that I do tai chi.
I know the reference system for most people has nothing to do with what
tai chi is about or what it offers.
There can be no real discussion here because tai chi is complex and most
people have a very limited ability to see what it is. Because it is complex, they usually don’t
care to know.
I
could talk a long time about tai chi, but I’d rather talk about the operas of
Benjamin Britten – my ego gets a charge.
Britten
operas and tai chi take time to experience.
Both
are complex.
Both
are deep.
Both
are thrilling.
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