Music in This Moment
- Shruthi
- Jan 11
- 3 min read
Music born out of this moment.
Many of my colleagues and I often contemplate the purpose of our work... and these questions come to the forefront in times of crisis. For those of us who think (and overthink) on these topics, there is no easy answer to this fundamental principle: "What is the best, most purposeful, most service-oriented use of my time? Is it being here in the practice room? Or is it being out there, bearing witness to how the defenseless are treated and stepping up to advocate for them?"
As artists, we can point to the many benefits that the arts bring to a society. We frequently do, when we find ourselves needing to defend public arts funding, public arts access, and public arts education. In the outside world, it is clear and necessary that we need the arts. Inside of us, these questions about the utility of time remain. And they should, I believe. If it is always easy to feel perfectly aligned with one's purpose, then perhaps there is scope to expand that purpose.
But there are moments like the one we're living in, when everything suddenly becomes clear and rather simple.
During the past few days, when turmoil has erupted here in Minnesota and all over, I have found it hard to do any of my normal activities. For me, that includes: sleeping, sending emails, thinking, eating, and yes, writing my current compositional project which, only a week ago, I was thrilled to be creating. The celebratory mood of that piece, which should be an enticing escape, is just not in me. Nor are any of my more somber projects in the pipeline. The truth is, I just don't have the energy to build huge worlds right now. I will, in a bit. But not yet... not in this moment.
Being totally without music wasn't helping me either. But the din in my head was so loud, the fog of my numbness so thick that for about 72 hours, all I really did was search for the latest on-the-ground updates and exchange 'care' reacts with people.
On Saturday, my head was pressed against a glass window as my mind filled with fast-moving thoughts, none of them memorable. In this noisy static, I sighed and suddenly, I just desperately wished I could be singing with a friend. So, I did. I was alone, but I hummed a tune to myself, wrote down my feelings over the next ten minutes, and texted those words and recording to my friend, librettist and filmmaker Zach Staads. Zach is very good with words, and is very smart, and is very kind. I asked for feedback and advice. I got the very best thing back. Zach sent me their recording of the same song. It was so beautifully sung. I finally felt like I was doing what I wanted... singing with my friend.
So, for the first time in days, I ran to my desk, eagerly set up my equipment, and made the materials for sharing this as widely as I could: 1) a lyrics sheet, 2) a Western music score, and 3) an aural-visual recording. Here they are:
1 & 2:
3:
There are no restrictions on this score, this text, this song. Use it however you'd like. Print as many copies as you desire. Add your own verses. Add your own harmonies. Use the descant, or change it. Add personalized counter-melodies. Turn it on its head. I don't mind at all. Just drop me a line if you've found it helpful in any way :)
In this moment, what I needed was something small to hold onto, a lifeline thrown to me and a raft I could extend next to a friend. Music can do this for us. It can heal those parts that we can't name. It can be a small, simple balm. For me, in this moment, it has soothed me enough to help me reboot my brain and get me outside standing with my friends and soon-to-be friends.
Whatever form your journey of community action takes: if you are a musician like me, don't let those overwhelming questions of purpose and utility flood you in this moment. Just do what you need to experience a little healing, so you can truly show up for yourself and your people.
And though I have done, and will continue to do, tons of extended dithering and distressed seeking on the topic of how best to meet the moment as musicians, I actually already answered this question over a year ago in an article for I Care If You Listen: the way to be present is to create and perform music for the time we're in.
Do that, however this looks to you, and I promise you will feel just slightly better.
With care,
Shruthi



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