On February 22, 2022, the planet Pluto was exactly at the same place in the sky that it was on July 4, 1776 – American Independence Day. Pluto’s orbit around the Sun takes 246 years, and Pluto’s return was talked about as a portent for revolutionary change.
But February 22, 2022 turned out to have a different significance than anyone expected; it marked the official beginning of the Russian invasion into Ukraine and the culmination of Russia’s misinformation campaign. It’s been just over a week since the invasion began; and the world has looked on in horror to blatant crimes against humanity committed by Putin’s fighters. We have cheered the heroic spirit, courage, and bravery of the Ukrainian people. President Zelensky seems nothing short of a hero. And we fervently pray that this crisis will have the same ending as David and Goliath in the Bible – the small, disadvantaged power (Ukraine) toppling the giant bully (Russia).
Last Saturday, I dedicated my organ concert, at the Legion of Honor Museum, to the fortitude of the Ukrainian people. And in speaking about this, the audience of several hundred people was visibly moved. Last Sunday, at the church where I am Minister of Music, I asked the choir to sing a Kyiv chant, “Cherubic Hymn” from the Ukrainian Orthodox tradition, and simultaneously invited the church congregation to enter into prayer for support of the Ukrainian people. Once again, many people there spoke to me of how moving and important that was for them. We will continue singing that chant in the weeks ahead; and at the Legion of Honor, my future concert programs will be a reflection on one musician’s compassion toward Ukraine, starting with the Ukrainian National Anthem, including folksongs from Ukraine, and other music about heroism (César Franck’s Pièce Héroïque among others).
What happens, inside us, when we hear the indigenous music of a country? I have long advocated that, in the global community in which we live, the great music of the world belongs to all of us and should not be nationalized. As an example of this, I cite that there is more of Bach’s music played in Japan than in Germany. At some point, music is cosmic, universal, owned by us all. Its intention is to make our lives richer, deeper, and more compassionate.
But there’s no question that that isn’t true categorically. When I play the music of Aaron Copland, for example, I know that my American frame of reference shapes my playing of the piece – just as it does the hearing of it by American audiences. The National Anthems of every country have the same ability to create a national ownership among listeners (and players, alike). Folksongs generally operate this way, as well.
I’m stuck on this question of when is a piece of music owned by everyone, and when is it owned by a specific region of the world? The distance we have from the original date of composition seems to be a factor in music becoming more universal. But not all music should become universal, and that’s the reason it’s important for musicians to play music from Ukraine right now: It increases our compassion, it deepens our humanity, and it gives us insight into the hearts of other people. In short, it creates solidarity.
To me, solidarity is a form of prayer. Quantum physics teaches us that the observer changes the observed. So, in ways that seem incomprehensible, the vibrational pattern created by a group of listeners feeling solidarity for another people, be they Ukrainian or otherwise, serves to strengthen that people’s resolve. It fortifies them with an intention of love, courage, and support.
There may be many that describe this as New Age thinking, a Pollyanna approach to the real needs of people becoming refugees by the hundreds of thousands. Financial support of charity organizations designed to help in times of crisis is crucial for those of us privileged to live at this time in history. But support of the heart, of the spirit, and of the will is equally important. Those are subtle energies.
The Resonance Project, that I founded nearly ten years ago, is focused on using music within the context of conflict resolution. It’s designed for people who are willing to come to the table together and open themselves up to the vulnerability of listening to specific music together – in the hopes that the ensuing brainwave synchronization will enable discovery of common ground, of a mutually agreeable, win/win solution. But The Resonance Project could also look at ways that music can lessen a divide between cultures (e.g. American and Ukrainian) by helping us feel solidarity and compassion, most especially in times of dire crisis.
Although I have a close friend from Ukraine, I have not ever visited there. There is a feeling of helplessness which I, and so many of my friends and musician-colleagues, feel in the situation we see unfolding before us. But if my music can help build a ground of support, palpable as a heart to heart connection, then I feel that I’m doing what I can.