Beyond the Notes | 12. Embodying Time and Place

In a turbulent world, we can find comfort in music, in the familiar, and in the evocative combination of music, landscape, time and place, all of which transcend the generations.

Welcome to Rediscover · Reconnect · Re-Emerge. If you find the fleeting changes of modern life wearisome, maybe even overwhelming, join me on a journey, a path well-trodden, as I share heartfelt and often nostalgic reflections on living slowly, simply, and in tune with the seasons.

In this series, I share some of the pieces of music which have meant the most to me in my life, and the stories behind why they resonate so strongly within a life lived slowly and simply.

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I’m sure we all have favourite paintings, artists, musicians and pieces of music. Each carries a special meaning, a unique appreciation which we carry close in our hearts. Sometimes, these links with the wider arts are not to be explained, but merely to be cherished. I’m often inspired most when a particular painting, or a piece of music, perhaps even a ballet or a play, seems to capture so effectively the feeling of a particular time and place.

Felicity Keefe

and

Ellis OConnor

do this so effectively in their painting, just a

Fiona D Artisan

and

Helen Hallows

do in their own artworks.

Photo by Tom Cox on Unsplash

Sometimes, it’s not the perfect representation of a particular time and place which inspire, but rather an overall sense of colour, line, composition and texture. I am no artist, but like most of us, I know what I like. Sometimes, paintings can be so perfect that they seem to sink no deeper than the superficiality of a photograph. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that, and none of us can deny the huge amount of skill required to produce such work; however, as with most things in life, I seek something deeper.

Some artists are blessed with the ability to capture time and place in a way which evokes a deep sense of belonging. Their artwork connects us at a deeper level to something greater. I recently wrote about our ever-present exploration of ‘home’, and in some paintings, you, like I, might find our homecoming. I’ve written previously about my love of John Constable’s The Hay Wain; it draws you in to another time and place, but one in which we might find comfort and continuity.

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Photo by Damian Karpiński on Unsplash

Much of what we experience in art can also be found in writing. I am ever-amazed and touched by the thoughtful and reflective quality of many of your writings here on Substack. Sometimes, I read beautiful words which quite literally stop me in my tracks. Even this week, I found it in these words of

The Midlife Nomad

:

‘We’re learning that home isn’t a physical address but the courage to keep becoming and unbecoming what doesn’t align with our values.’

These from

Melissa Lee

too:

‘In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks’

I think we can find these things in music too. A composer takes a pen to the paper in the same way that an artist takes a brush to the canvas. Both stimulate different senses, the auditory and the visual, but both have the potential to touch the deepest parts of our souls.

From a young age, I can remember people saying of the County of Worcestershire, it’s ‘Elgar country’. Any mention of Worcester or Worcestershire on the television seemed to be accompanied by a familiar Elgar tune. He possessed the rare skill of writing broad, memorable tunes, in that somehow, his broad brush strokes of sound seemed to come straight from the nearby Malvern Hills. These resonate with me, that with sensitivity and blessing, a composer can recreate that wild landscape in sound. After all, the wild places call me, and the music which embodies them is no exception

This is perhaps never more true than in Elgar’s own Cello Concerto. As a child, it was one of a limited number of cassettes we listened to in the car. We listened to it endlessly, on repeat. For the generation who came before me, the Concerto will be ever-associated with cellist, Jacqueline du Pré, her immense skill and delicacy taken from us far too young at the age of 42.

For me, this music not only evokes the rich agricultural County of Worcestershire, but at it heart, it seems to embody England itself. In our globalised world, perhaps that is unfashionable these days? But listening to its expansive brush strokes of sound as a child instilled in me a love, not just for classical music, but for English music; for Vaughan Williams, Holst, Bridge and others.

How many of our relationships with time and place are defined by music?

If the Malvern Hills could speak, then Elgar heard. The Cello Concerto embodies time and place in a way which, even to us, all these years on, feels instantly familiar. In a turbulent world, we can find comfort in music, in the familiar, and in the evocative combination of music, landscape, time and place, all of which transcend the generations.

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