Music

I am currently enjoying a bit of a love affair with the music of Shostakovich, and in fact music generally. Music has always played a significant role in my life, from the early days of the Beatles (the first record I owned was 'She Loves You', given to me for my sixth birthday) through the 'underground' music of the Edgar Broughton Band, the straight rock of Free, back to the roots with the Blues, and later enjoying Frank Zappa's very humorous inventiveness. I started playing guitar while still at school and later played in various bands, and even spent several months supporting myself by playing the banjo on the streets of Norwich. I came to a late discovery of orchestral and classical music, after years of being a staunch Philistine, but it is barely possible not to be learn to appreciate classical music and the arts generally when living in Berlin, where there is so much on offer. I have even begun trying to learn a little bit of music theory.

I have come to recognise how really moving music can be. I'm frequently moved to tears these days by the power of music, not always in a sentimental way (though I suspect there is an element of this sometimes, when for example I am moved by the 'old songs of the sixties'). A couple of years ago I was privileged to receive a free ticket to see a performance of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, and it seemed to me that everyone in the concert hall was weeping. Now it is Shostakovich that is moving me and I feel I am beginning to appreciate what Sangharakashita means when he says that the arts can be a means of assisting spiritual growth and development. It's just so difficult to express it in words, which is of course why the arts exist. As an artist friend once said, quoting a former teacher of his, if you can put it into words, well you don't need to paint it.

And the piece that has me completely overwhelmed at the moment, and which I have decided should be the music to be played at my funeral is Shostakovich's Prelude and Fugue in D minor.