Amiram Hayardeny's My China Experience

Music To My Ears

I love music.  When I was really young, I was a choir boy at our local temple.  I had a sweet, innocent, clear voice with a high pitch.  It was a large temple, and on a good Friday night, quite a few hundred people would attend the services.  It felt good to sing, it felt good to see the appreciating looks.  But what I really liked about singing, was the structure.  The tune, the lead vocals, and the background.  The harmony between the different tones.  I was young then, but later on in life I realized why music always appealed to me back then, and why it still does.  It's mathematics.  The notes are put in structures that gives the feeling of some bigger picture.  Like every note is essential, and must be in place, exactly, to have the entire tune sound wholesome and complete.  Back then I didn't understand why certain songs, or tunes, were making me anxious, uncomfortable, uneasy.  Later I realized that tunes with notes out of place make me feel that way.  It's as if a house is built in order, and then one brick is misplaced, and I get the feeling that the entire structure is about to collapse. That's why I can't stand Jazz.  It doesn't seem to have the harmony I need in music.  It's unpredictable, and it always makes me feel that something is missing, incomplete.

Clearly I don't mean to say that Jazz is “bad music”, and I am even ready to accept that it does have structure, but I don't get it...

One night, after services, Shlomo Ravitz came to me and asked to speak to me.  He must have been well over eighty at the time.  But he was a great composer of Jewish temple music, and his tunes are still sung every Friday, Saturday, and Jewish High Holiday around the globe.  His granddaughter, Yehudit Ravitz, is one of the best Israeli rockers ever.  She really rocks.  Anyway, I, the eleven year old choir boy, received a job offer from the great Shlomo Ravitz.  He promised me the equivalent of a few hundred dollars, if I agreed to sing with his professional choir on the High Holidays.  He warned me that there will be rehearsals, and that he will teach me how to sing to notes.  He also promised that I will get two tickets for family to attend the services.  After consulting with my parents, I agreed.

My grandmother and my mother came to the services.  It was fun.  As the only eleven year old in a choir of professional singers, some were actually opera singers, I had some privileges.  I didn't have to be on stage all the time.  But when I was on stage, it was purely professional.  Shlomo Ravitz was a tough conductor, and he had a tendency to correct all the time.  He was a perfectionist.  He taught me to keep trying until it sounded absolutely perfect.  Until I felt it in my heart that the note was in place.  Eversince, I can expect nothing less from music.  Any music.

I sometimes think of music as a great way of expression, and also as a form of engineering. When an idea for a tune comes to one's head, it's nothing but a fetus, it's too simple to be performed.  It needs flesh and skin and bones.  It needs depth and breadth.  It needs rhythm and soul.  It needs work.  Notes must be place, and replaced.  Instruments must be chosen carefully and their part has to be made up, independently and in relation to the rest of the instruments, and the vocals.  It's fascinating to hear a song as a simple, flat tune, and then in its entirety, with all the instruments and the lead vocals and the background.  Sometimes it's hard to even tell it's the same.

Of all instruments, I love the bass the most.  It's not a “front” instrument, it doesn't lead, at least not upfront.  To the untrained ear, it's barely heard.  Yes I love the lead guitars, and the percussion.  I love the keyboards (particularly the Yamaha keyboards which can emulate any sound between a cricket and God himself).  I love the flute, the saxophone, the clarinet, even the trumpet.  But the bass, with its almost invisible way of leading the music, I love the most....

Posted at 02:23PM Mar 20, 2008 by Amiram Hayardeny in Personal  |  Comments[2]