Dvorak in the Heartland

Recently while traveling in Iowa I stopped in the town of Spillville, a historic Czech settlement located in the northeastern portion of the state. Visiting there on a Sunday afternoon brought a beautiful fall weekend to a close, part of which I had spent visiting a Zen monastery near the Mississippi--but more about that later.

Spillville is quiet and ethereally serene, creating a worthy conclusion to a Zen experience! The town is remarkable as a monument to the Czech immigrant experience in America, and for those citizens, permanent and temporary, who brought greatness to the town. The Bily brothers ("white" in Czech), who never traveled more than thirty-five miles from the town, who never married, and whose father never permitted them to practice their wood carving skills except during the winter when there were no farm duties, created exceptional hand carved wooden clocks that testify to all the powers of human ingenuity. Henry Ford once offered the men $1,000,000.00 for a single clock--and they refused. The clocks tell a history of the world, and form a tribute to the philosophies and belief systems that have shaped us--all this from two simple men who never ventured far from their home area. To pay homage to these two is worth a trip in itself.

For me as a musician, the significance of the town lies in the fact that the great Czech composer Antonin Dvorak spent the summer of 1893 in the town as a means of vacationing from his teaching and administrative duties in New York, and to reconnect with the spirit of his country. We know that Dvorak--along with his wife and six children--loved the town and its tranquillity. He loved listening to the local birds, and it is even said that their songs sometimes were incarnated within his melodies.

The region has designated a stretch of road as the "Dvorak Highway", and it is a solemn spiritual pilgrimage to explore it. I almost trembled as I entered the St. Wenceslas Catholic Church where the Dvoraks attended services, and where the very organ he sometimes played for the town still exists and is still used for regular services and special concerts. America is still too young to have produced many classical composers, but Dvorak is one to whose life we made at least a contribution--and who gave so much back to us and to the world.

If you don't know the music of Dvorak, you owe it to yourself to become acquainted. His music is warm and healing, and majestic. His humanity sweats forth from the music, evidenced by his admiration for American folk music and his insistence that no one be denied admission based on race or creed to the National Conservatory in New York which he directed. My personal favorite is the Cello Concerto, but the Symphony "From the New World" (you'll hear melodies inspired by the pioneers, Native Americans, Black spirituals, and even a bit of Three Blind Mice!), is probably the best known of his works. Other people are drawn to his chamber music, the Slavonic Dances, the Gypsy Songs, or other works. It's worth getting to kn ow all of them.

Thanks for reading.
Gary

More Thoughts on Language

In my most recent post I wrote about the joy of seeing (hearing?) a play about the life and work of Emily Dickinson. The basic tool of a poet is language, and language gives us much to think about.

Language is often abused and misused. Too often we go through life not realizing what a powerful gift words are. We use language to express practically all of our thoughts and ideas. Indeed, the gospel of John opens with the phrase "In the beginning was the Word....". Today many spiritual teachers of all stripes are striving to teach us the incredible power of words and their declaration.

Alice Bailey, the controversial British/American theosophical writer who claimed to channel a Tibetan spiritual master, once wrote that language is ultimately inadequate to express the deepest truths. Of course that is true; language is simply a tool, and we should always strive to hone and deepen it. Most of us sense that language hints at ideas and feelings that remain inexpressible to us. But the greatness of language is its ability to inspire us to search for the deeper meanings. When we meditate or pray, we sometimes proceed beyond words, but it is often "words" that guide us into "the Word". This is part of why language is so important to us. Words can both unite and divide us, but ultimately they guide us.

Thanks,
Gary

Emily Dickinson in the Heartland

Recently the Insight Theatre Company in St. Louis presented William Luce's play chronicling the life of Emily Dickinson, The Belle of Amherst, directed by Maggie Ryan and starring Susie Wall in the title role. The one-woman play premiered on Broadway in 1977 with Julie Harris in the title role and has received acclaim ever since. It was gratifying to hear once again lines from one of our greatest poets and catch glimpses into her personal life. At her death in 1886, at the age of 56, Emily's sister found 1,775 poems in Emily's room. Seven poems were published in her lifetime, but, like so many geniuses, Emily's work went largely unnoticed until after her death.

With a cast only one person, this play must rely on the sheer power of words to capture the attention of the audience. It was refreshing to be reminded once again that the English language has been blessed with an abundance of writers who respect its greatness and extreme powers of expression. Emily Dickinson takes her place in a pantheon of great writers, from the creator of Beowulf through Shakespeare to our present day, who have bequeathed a cultural legacy to us all.

Emily Dickinson respected the English language, and we should all realize that we only cheat ourselves if we ignore our native tongue. It is a tragedy to see how language is disrespected and ignored in so many of our institutions today. (Do you realize how little grammar is taught today in many schools?) And whether we speak English or any other language, we should realize that it is our duty and right to explore the language and be intelligent co-creators of its usage. Emily Dickinson, like every great writer, was one of us, and sprang from our midst.

Thanks,
Gary