The house of
music has three doors, melody, harmony, and rhythm. Depending on the musical
period and style, these three elements can present themselves in different ways
and in different relationships to each other. In most music, all three doors
lead to the same place, like spokes on a wheel, and all three doors work with
each other to fully express themselves and the music.
Melody manifests
itself in time and hence creates melodic rhythm, and melody can imply
harmonies. Conversely, harmonies can suggest a roadmap for melody to follow. The
progression of harmony through time creates its own rhythm—harmonic rhythm.
Rhythm requires
sound to be heard or felt, hence rhythm in not independent of sound—sound in
the form of pitch and duration.
It has been my
experience that apart from the study of percussion, the study of rhythm is
often given a backseat in the study of music. Teachers of classical, jazz, and
popular music all too often assume that if the student can count out music
notation correctly and play notes and chords in time, then their work with
rhythm is either complete and that the student can then automatically find the
right feeling of the rhythm on their own. This is especially true in the
instruction of folk, pop, blues, and jazz. Emphasis is placed on the chords and
chords progressions, while the rhythm of the strums and picking patterns is
given short shrift.
Many years ago,
when I was performing on the folk circuit in Chicago, Illinois, my path often
crossed with that of a folk blues artist called Blind Jim Brewer. Jim would
begin and end every set with the same song, I’ll Fly Away. It’s a simple
song and Jim’s guitar playing emphasized the bass notes of the chords on beats one
and three of the measure which he followed with a strong downstroke of the
strings on beats two and four. Both the chords and the strum, often called the
Carter Family Strum, are something that even an advanced beginner can easily
handle. But what could not be duplicated was the effect that Jim’s playing had
on his audiences.
Without
exception, on every occasion that I observed, whether in coffee houses or
college campuses, within moments of him beginning to play this song people
began to smile, tap their feet, and clap along to the music. Little children
would even begin to dance.
What was it
about Jim’s playing that caused this to happen? I believe the answer lies in
the power and meaning of living rhythm. Living rhythm is
something far beyond playing music in time, it comes within and finds
expression through the body.
I recall
that James Joyce in his, A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man, said, “Rhythm
in art is the relationship that exists between the whole and its parts, the
relationship that exists between any part and another part within the whole,
and the relationship that exists between any part and the whole.” This definition
applies equally to all the arts, music, poetry, sculpture, painting, and dance,
as well as to life in general, creation, the movement of the stars and planets,
and the proportions of the human body and even the makeup of the mind.
Kahlil
Gibran spoke about Jesus through the character of Mary Magdeline, “When I
saw him in the garden, He moved like none other—he moved as if his every part
loved every part of Himself.” – (paraphrase).
Relationship
and love, they seem to go together, but how does that make us better musicians
and specifically better at rhythm? As a teacher and a musician, it just doesn’t
seem appropriate to leave it at that. There must be some practical way to study
and practice rhythm. Metronomes and counting will only lead us so far. The “play
it like this” approach used by many teachers perhaps takes one a bit further,
but I wonder if the most practical approach may turn out to be the one that at
first appears to be the least practical and the most impossible to teach or
learn, and that is love—love for the music, love for others, and love for
oneself?
Above the
entrance to Meher Baba’s tomb in India is written, “Mastery in Servitude,”
and somewhere in the scriptures it is said, “There was a time when the
kingdom of Heaven could be taken by force, but those days are gone. Now the way
to the Kingdom of Heaven is through love.”
As a fortunate
teacher and performer of classical guitar, I have had the opportunity to attend
many guitar concerts. I have seen the best the genre has to offer, and I have observed
something very unique about the concerts of Andre Segovia. I saw it manifested
in the audience during intermissions and at the end of his concerts.
Contrary to
other artist’s concerts, during intermissions and after the concert when
leaving the hall and the building, the audiences were generally quite talkative,
commenting and discussing the performer, the performance, and the music, but the
audiences attending the Segovia concerts were different. They tended to be much
quieter, smiled more, talked less, and seemed to be more serene.
I observed
this on many occasions, and I wondered why. I have concluded that the
difference was due to how Segovia came to become a master musician. I believe
he mastered the music by serving it, rather than by force of ego will, in other
words, Mastery in Servitude through love.
Of course,
love cannot be taught, but I have observed that it can be communicated. As
Meher Baba said, love can be caught from those who have it. That love can
manifest itself across all genres of music, it is not limited to the works of
Bach or musicians like Horwitz and Segovia. It can also be found in the simple
folk blues of Blind Jim Brewer and even the simple pop songs and singers of the
1950’s and 60’s.
So, it is
love that brings the music to life, love that makes melody, harmony, and rhythm
live. Love manifests through the hands and the voice of the musician, through
the body of the musician.
Love and
service are connected. By continuing to serve the needs of the music, by
continuing to sacrifice for the needs of the music, one may gradually learn to
love the music, and when love for the music is supported by successful work
connected to learning the music, living with the music, and playing the music, the
end result is that the musician is raised beyond himself, effaced, as it were,
and the music soars to the highest levels of human endeavor.
Studs Terkel
once asked Andre Segovia why, after becoming a true master of the music, he
still continued to practice scales and other exercises daily. To this question
Segovia replied, “Studs, I know I don’t have to remind you of the story of
Jacob’s Ladder. Even though the angels had wings to fly, they still ascended
and descended the ladder step by step.”
(c) copyright, Michael Kovitz, 2023
