Musical Conspiracy
Music Appreciation was chosen due to my Dad; well, truthfully, it was chosen because I enjoy music and have always wanted to dig deeper, to better understand the process, the history, etc. But...all of that, invariably, leads back to my Dad. My Dad, if it hasn't been mentioned before, is a die-hard music theory major. This means big brains, mathematical, technical, and, for lack of a better term, snobbish when it comes to music. In fact, he proudly touts that he listened to nothing but classical up until college when he was introduced to the revolutionary Beatles. Only the crazy hardcore people major in music theory.
On my first day in my Music Appreciation class, I was very curious to see how the course would suit me...or how I would suit it. How we'd suit each other. The instructor had been my choir director several semesters before and had been jabbing me to "come to the dark side" and pursue music (over art) ever since. And I genuinely wanted to (but not INSTEAD of art, along side). I've long had a love affair flaring between art and music. When I first started college in my teens, my plan was to major in art for a career of teaching and have a double major in music for enjoyment. It's run deep for a long time.
As a little girl I remember wanting to compose music just as much as I wanted to draw. Only...composing didn't come as naturally to me as drawing. I wrote music but without any idea of how the science and math worked behind it. I guess I didn't really understand that much about art either but the art just flowed much more freely. It wasn't as much of a struggle. Music was intimidation. Probably because I was being raised by a music theory major.
I quickly realized something was afoot when I began getting deeper into my Appreciation class. I began noticing funny little things...like the fact I was one of the few that could conduct in 2, 3, and 4 time without thinking about it and had no trouble writing notes on a staff. I didn't know most of the terminology and struggled with the science still...but there was a lot I already knew. And then I realized why. I confessed to my chiropractor during our awkward small talk during my appointment that I suspected my Dad had been preparing me for music since I was born, whether subconscious or not. We got a good laugh out of it when I explained I guess not all 4-year-olds should know how to distinguish what time a classical musical piece is written in. But that just made me examine myself even deeper. It explains so much.
Maybe my Dad, unlike my previous belief that he thought I was a complete musical lost cause, actually thought I was a potentially brilliant musical mind. Maybe that's why he drilled me on musical time when I was barely potty trained, taught me to read (and write) music, gave me grueling recorder lessons that brought me to tears most days, and built me a classical guitar with imaginations of me on stage...something I always found ludicrous. I've always struggled with thoughts of my Dad not thinking I was smart enough for music. Maybe it was quite the opposite and I simply lacked the guts to go for it. Who knows...all I know is this class has brought about a LOT of flash backs. Most of them humorous, many of them endearing in a strange way. But all bringing back to the surface my deep rooted desire to write again. Who knows what the future might hold...
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Comments
Also, your class reminds me of a self taught Humanities class I took in college. The teacher/advisor said that people struggled most with the music section and the average for that was a C. I was very proud to get an A. I think that was because of having a bit of music education 5th-8th where I played the clarinet. I feel like music is a foreign language and if you don't get some knowledge early in life it is almost impossible to fully understand. And not to say I am knowledgeable at all in music history or theory, but I was fortunate to get some fundamentals early in life which then makes learning more about music easier to comprehend.