When Words Fail Us,
Music Provides a Comforting Haven
It sounds from our TV speakers as cameras pan across scenes of unimaginable destruction. It fills gaps between radio news reports of lives lost in the thousands and economic pain to come.
We retreat from stress by playing it on our stereos and pianos. We sing it in our churches and synagogues and mosques.
We have no companion dearer, in these difficult days after the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington, than music. Barber's "Adagio for Strings" calms our nerves.
Copland's "Fanfare for the Common Man" stirs our nobility and resolve. The Beatles' "All You Need is Love" and U2's "Peace on Earth" hold out hope for a better world.
Music is hardly the "universal language" of cliche. What speaks to one person may confound or even annoy another. But in very personal ways, we respond to it on deep emotional levels, in places words can't seem to go.
"For so many people, music is a source of comfort," says Dallas Symphony Orchestra music director Andrew Litton. "It's amazing how putting on your favorite song, or whatever, can so often make you feel instantly better or take you out of whatever mood you're in."
It matters not whether the music is high art or a barroom ditty. The tune of "The Star-Spangled Banner" was originally a drinking song. "God Bless America" began life in Irving Berlin's Ziegfield-style revue, "Yap, Yip, Yaphank."
The poetry of "The Star-Spangled Banner" is pretty purple, as is that of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic." The former's tune, covering an octave and a half, is notoriously unsingable; the latter's is almost a self-parody of dotted and drumbeat rhythms. "Extraordinary," Noel Coward wrote, "how potent cheap music is."
Patriotic songs have put plenty of lumps in our throats and tears in our eyes the past two weeks. With visions of passenger jets slamming into the World Trade Center burned into our retinas, Francis Scott Key's "bombs bursting in air" have taken on tragic new immediacy. No one alive today will ever again sing "America the Beautiful" without wincing at the line "Thine alabaster cities gleam, undimmed by human tears."