Why Music?
“The Musical Language and its dialects, whatever that may mean, facilitated friendships and partnerships outside of music and opened my opportunities to a wider variety of people that I otherwise would not have met.”
When I was four years old, my mom bought me a violin to play. It was a tiny 1/8 sized violin and sounded 1/8 as good as a full size too, but it was still a violin. Sometime later, I was dropped off at a group violin lesson so I could learn the basics of violin playing, and I was one of the quickest to pick it up at those lessons. For the next eight years, I moved between private teachers, all of whom said I “had potential” and “am really talented” at playing the violin. For most kids at that age, though, we didn’t really have so-called passions or aspirations; rather, we did what our parents enrolled us in. I didn’t really like practicing all that much, nor did I find new pieces to play myself. For all intents and purposes, it was just another thing I did, and at the core, my parents agreed.
One day, my parents decided to book a trial lesson with one “Mr. Pavlov.” That weekend, an approximately 80-year-old, nearly 6-foot Russian man filled our house’s doorway, with a folder in one hand and a violin case in the other. His teaching technique was nothing short of “stereotypically Soviet-Russian,” softening no criticisms and being harsh at times. Within that trial lesson, he had told me that my technique was completely wrong, and that we would have to start over from scratch. This sudden change in approach from my teachers was slightly upsetting but gave me motivation to improve. Through this process, and thanks to his teachings, I improved very rapidly and caused a chain of events that led to my relative proficiency in 9 instruments and deep understanding of musical theory and history.
Unfortunately, during this time, me and my family had to start thinking about college. They were very against me studying music because “it makes no money” and to an extent, I agreed with them, so I applied as an engineer. They intended for music to be a sort of “productive outlet,” but not necessarily a passion that I would invest significantly into; even some of my musician friends thought that playing 9 instruments was extreme. Most people quit their instruments when they enter higher education, and I had no logical reason to continue to play. So why do I continue to play music in that tiny, stuffy dorm? Why do I play music as an engineer?
It turns out, as I have discovered recently, music is practical. Everyone has heard the phrase, “music is a language” many times before. My interpretation of this is a little more nuanced. In a symphony, people usually like to talk to and make friends with people within their section. Think of the musical sections of dialects; you can talk to other sections, but most people don’t because they have more in common with their own. Conveniently, I speak several “dialects of music” thanks to my skills in not only one instrument. I have friends from almost every section in my symphony, and they all had different skills and passions and interests. After a while, I started talking more about life and school, and soon enough, we were helping each other on different assignments and projects. The Musical Language and its dialects, whatever that may mean, facilitated friendships and partnerships outside of music and opened my opportunities to a wider variety of people that I otherwise would not have met. In the Rutgers Sinfonia, I can see the potential for this kind of relationship growing even stronger, because Sinfonia is the non-music major orchestra. The connections I can make here are exclusively with people studying a wide variety of subjects. Considering engineers must work cooperatively with every other area of study and trade, opening the lines of communication with them early could give me an advantage.
Learning a language builds discipline, and so does learning music. Both skills cannot be learned quickly. If any sort of achievement can be made, tedious and unfriendly work must be done to slowly climb towards that goal. For me, music has allowed me to learn discipline and the value of hard work. Because I have worked so hard on a certain piece, I am able to perform and show my talent to others; this mindset applies to all endeavors I apply myself to. Because I have tasted achievement in music, I strive to do the same with all other activities, which instills discipline and motivation for all I do. Maybe these reasons are a little robotic and transactional for something as passion motivated as music, so the question still stands: “why music?”
I have had the privilege to explore many different parts of the world, and for most of these places, the higher up I travel, the prettier the view gets. If it were a place, music would be Mount Tai. For every step up the 6,600 stairs on the side of the mountain, the scenery gets more and more pristine; for every one of 10,000 hours I practice, I get a little bit closer to mastery. Each landing, a piece learned, or technique mastered. Every one of the 6,600 steps up this mountain represents a portion of my musical journey, and every terrace of achievement is memorable. Unfortunately, reaching the summit is seldom achieved. There is a certain video of people climbing Mount Tai with “jiggly legs”; their legs start to give up and they climb slower and slower on their way to the top; one person was even carried down by emergency services. This is almost what it feels like with violin playing. The higher you climb, the more complicated and arduous each step is.
Perhaps Jhumpa Lahiri’s essay, “Why Italian?” provides more insight into this point. As a British-born American of Indian descent, she authors in Italian. While her situation is a matter of circumstance and mine from personal choice, I believe her words can assist my explanation, as music is so well associated with language. In this essay, she writes, “I don’t wish to live, or write, in a world without doors. An unconditional opening, without complications or obstacles, doesn’t stimulate me.” In her experience, to understand, then communicate, then write, then reach an audience, are all a series of challenges that must be overcome for her to feel free despite her origin. It is like music; to play techniques, then phrases, then pieces, then to perform, all are challenges to be overcome to reach only a peak of the mountain. Once reached, however, I feel prideful of my work, and the music brings beauty anywhere I go. Music dares me to overcome difficulty so I can feel passion and grace.
Why music? Why all the instruments, why all the time commitment, why the dorm noise complaints? Simply, it gives me the ability to connect with others, builds discipline and achievement, and challenges me so I can make something beautiful. These properties make it a worthy hobby, for myself and my life. Also, it is just plain fun.