The quality of live-ness

A fellow blogger commented a week ago,

"I am starting to gain a whole new appreciation for live music... we assume the show just comes naturally for the performers, but in reality there are months of rhearsals and technical details that have to be worked out... we often forget recorded music has only been around for the past 120 years. Before that, music was always live"

When I first read this I felt a bit scolded. I enjoy walking through the woods listening to music, I often think the woods are well illustrated by music. I appreciate though this is not the common ipod experience. Nevertheless, my initial thinking was one of skepticism. Is live music really better?

But then, silly me, I had a performance. Wow, countless hours to character, lines, blocking etc. for just 1.5hrs. If that was not enough I then attended PTE's Bordertown Cafe on Tuesday. Live theatre is something special I allow. I hate watching filmed theatre.

So I appreciate theatre live, but music? Ah, but then on Wednesday in chapel I was surprised to find that we had a Children's choir coming to perform.

wow.

I was profoundly moved by their music. Yes, within seconds of their voices thrown into the air I was in tears. I got a cd from them. And I must admit: there is no comparison. Now, part of my reaction I am sure comes from the relevance of their presence here. After a semester of studying voluntary simplicity in the context of North American consumption at the expense of the Global south I heard their voices and stories very differently than I would have. Their stories were sad, I am used to tragedy from my work in the shelter. But there was also a whole new level to the narrative. It is my own involvement in the narrative. I am a North American consumer. I participate and daily engage a system which exploits these people. Chocolate, coffee, and rice are only some basic things. There is also systematic denial of opportunity, racism, aids, and many more. The children in that choir told us how their parents could not support them. I know that this inability is directly and indirectly linked to our, my, pattern of existence. They sang that night in spite of me, in spite of us. I felt like saying, "I am so sorry for what we have done to you." They told us that humans need to tell their stories, the horrors we have faced. They teach the children that healing is found in telling your stories. I think part of my story is confession. Perhaps the path towards justice is confession.

Anyway, without their presence I would not have been so humbled to listen to them. There is certainly something about face to face interaction that I can appreciate. Dancing while no one is watching is very different than dancing for people. Less vulnerable, necessary for practice, but it is not art, as Val says, until there is an audience. Do the numberless consumers of recorded music, dance, theatre and moves count as an audience? Are you reader, an audience? Or should I be saying this to your face? Perhaps that was the loss mourned (I assume it was mourned) when we transitioned from an oral society to a literate one. And again, we are transferring from a literate society to a media one.

Of course by last night I had conceded that live music was indeed better than recorded. And in that spirit I went to the performance put on my our own music students. Brilliant. Of course I expect to like the classical stuff. The jazz band was last. Jazz always was everything that was evil with men (Apart from Dave Brubeck). I suppose that was residue from Granddaddy Don. But then, their first piece was something about Little Liza or someone. And they were clapping, stomping, singing and playing and I was utterly delighted. I thought the conductor was joking when he suggested we dance if the occasion called for it.

The occasion definitely called.

(but I didn't dance.)