"This is really neat!" wrote Michael Wallacavage, as he sent around a link to this fascinating clip of Eric Whitacre's virtual choirs. Watch it, and I think you'll agree.
The singing starts at 6:27 and then again at 12:12 on the timeline. But don't skip what comes before! Whitacre's introduction is very interesting and engaging. He not only talks about the project itself, how it came about and so on, but also explains how he got interested in classical music. As a youth, his dream was to be a pop star. (He wanted to be the fifth member of Depeche Mode. Remember them?). But when he got to college he joined a choir instead. Not for love of music, mind you, but because it included a free trip to Mexico and the soprano section was full of "hot girls."
But then, Boom!, during the very first day of practice, as the choir launched into the Kyrie from Mozart's Requiem, he had a profound and life changing experience:
My entire life I had seen in black and white and suddenly everything was in shocking technicolor. The most transformative experience I've ever had. In that single moment, hearing dissonance and harmony, and people singing, people together, the shared vision, and I felt for the first time in my life that I was part of something bigger than myself.
Wow. I love it. What a powerful testimony to the influence of great music on the human soul.
Whitacre's experience contains, in a concentrated and intensified form, elements that are found in any deep encounter with value and beauty. I'll try to draw out a few of them, and hope you'll add your own reflections in the comment section.
Whitacre's experience opened his eyes to the depth, richness, and significance of reality. It wasn't merely a different perspective, it was a deeper one. What previously seemed humdrum and ordinary is now revealed for what it really is. All of a sudden, everything has color and meaning, including (though Whitacre does not say so explicitly) his own life and what he decides to do with it.
This doesn't mean that everything is honky dory. All of reality is revealed in technicolor. Not just the things that are noble and lovely, but also those that are ugly and painful. And yet, if the experience went deep enough, I suspect it also inspired a certain confidence that light is stronger than darkness, and that it has the final word.
It's worth underlining that the experience of a single thing of beauty, in this case Mozart's Kyrie, does not just affect one's perception of that one thing, but spills over onto everything else as well. In that way the experience of beauty is truly eye and soul opening. It improves our general ability to see and respond to value.
Whitacre's experience is also transformative. It does not just change his perspective, it changes him. That is why he is now a classical composer and conductor instead of a pop star. The change in his career is a reflection of a deep change in his person.
And note the manner in which beauty works these changes: not through force, or by leaving him with no other option, but by affecting his heart, and inclining it in a new direction. Whitacre is not compelled to give up his previous dreams, he wants to do so. The change, though sudden and drastic, is entirely free and organic.
This gentle, natural way in which values exert their influence is one reason they are so important in education. Exposing children to high values is a way of forming and enobling them that goes deeper and is more congenial than other methods of education involving discipline and rules. (Not that the latter can be eliminated altogether!)
Another fact about Whiteacre's experience is that it was totally unplanned and unexpected. Unlikely even. This also is a general feature of experiencing beauty. We can open ourselves to such an experience, and long for it, but we cannot simply decide to have it. If we are going to be swept up into something higher than ourselves, something (or someone) higher will have to do the sweeping.
This powerlessness on our part seems like a bummer. But really it is part of the blessing of beauty. Too much control is stifling and oppressive. Letting go is liberating. Or at least, it can be liberating. Everything depends on whether one is lifted up by something higher or dragged down to something lower than oneself. The former is liberating, the latter enslaving. (As an example of the latter, there's a song I sometimes hear during spinning classes at the YMCA, that challenges the listener to "disconnect from all intellect," "lose this inhibition," "break away from tradition," "get stupid," and so on.)
One last conspicuous feature of Whitacre's experience is that of a deeply felt communion with other people. "People singing," he describes, "people together, the shared vision… I felt for the first time in my life that I was part of something bigger than myself."
This unifying power is something that all genuine goods have in common, and it is related to the soul-opening power I mentioned above. Dietrich von Hildebrand explains this very well:
The human person has an "outer" and an "inner" side. When he is closed off, he touches the other only with his "outer side" and also touches the other from the outside. Something completely new happens as soon as man opens himself, lets his inner side appear and lets it touch the other person. Every experience of being deeply moved by value means such a breakthrough of the inner side, a self-opening of the person towards all others … [T]he crust of indifference, of egoism, and of pride, which forms on the outside of the person and closes him off from the other, melts under the influence of being moved by the world of values, [and] a union with all other persons constitutes itself simultaneously. The breakthrough of the depth of the person who is taken by the embracing rays of the realm of values … is simultaneously a falling away of the separating barriers between persons.
I think it is important that government is alert to these necessities ahead of time. This foresight should include educating one's nation to its responsibility to share its goods with those in need. The Biblical story of Joseph's prudent husbandry of Egypt's goods is most applical here.
Do you remember Tolstoys story "How much land does a man need?" I think the principle behind that story, i. e. we must shape our priorities in light of death, is applicaple here too. How much do we really need in this statu viae? For the Christian death is a passage not a termination.
This issue has come up a lot in Britain recently due to the enlargement of the EU and the rise of the UK Independence Party. Most of this discussion has been about legal immigration, but I hope it's relevant.
I feel there's a distinction to be made between "you're not welcome here" and "we'd rather you go to another city". Like it or not, a spike in immigrant population in a particular area puts a strain on the public services of that area, which are commissioned based on expectations about future population. I admire the spirit of those who would offer their floor to an immigrant family, but when we start talking about school places, hospital beds, or public transport, it gets more complex - these things take time, new teachers have to be trained, schools need to be enlarged. In short the local population has a choice between putting up with over-subscribed services, designed for a lower population, or borrowing money to boost existing services. So it seems fair that the effect of immigration should be spread as evenly accross the country as possible. At the moment it seems big port cities are bearing too heavy a burden.
It seems to me a matter of precision. Social justice is a particular sphere of justice, just as sexual morality is a particular sphere of morality. It is justice in the arrangement of society, justice between segments of society.
Further, social justice is a new category of justice, in the sense that it emerged in the wake of the industrial revolution. Likewise, theology of the body is a new field of theological exploration.
I think conservatives like us have a tendency to react against the term because we're so used to its being misused by the left.
Not too late at all, and I appreciate you pointing this out to me. I agree with you that more work needs to be done in this area and I'm hopeful because the truth will prevail. I struggle with semantics sometimes - why does the term "justice" require modification with qualifiers like "social" or "economic"? - but that horse has already left the barn.
Yes, his too, though, if I'm right, it will only be the war time memoirs—the memoirs of his fight against Naziism and Communism. I think that's coming out in December, though Random House. I promise to keep members posted.
Thanks Katie. I love this anecdote and the photo. I eagerly await Alice's memoirs! I regularly reread "The Soul of a Lion", her bio of Dietrich. I understand Dietrich's memoirs may be published-can't wait! In the same genre I regularly reread Edith Stein's "Life in a Jewish Family". My experience in reading these and similar works is that I'm entering into the stuff of life.
I'm Catholic - passionately! I was recently asked to chair a "Social Justice" committee in my parish (in Rochester NY - an interesting place to say the least) but I fear I'm much too conservative for this area. At heart I'm a Texan (Houston, Brownsville, College Station) and New York is hard to fathom (even after 22 years). Let's just say it's hard to relate to other "Catholics" in my neck of the woods. They have very strong feelings about immigration (along with many other topics), but no clue when it comes to the reality.
Whether they're breaking the moral law could depend on whether the particular law is just, whether they know it's in force, whether there's any other way to secure their or their famiy's survival, and so on. I'm not saying there's a simple parallel between immigrants coming from a bad situation and a starving man taking the bread.
I do suspect we should all take more seriously uncomfortable notions like the universal destination of goods and teachings like "let him who has two coats give to him who has none." They're easy to explain away.
Excuse me, I've been talking about all this in the context of Catholic teaching, Chris, and I don't know if you're Catholic. Also, neither immigration nor Catholic social teaching are areas of expertise for me (at all!); I'm just sorting out ideas in my mind.
Chris, welcome, and it's an interesting question. I didn't mean there was a clear parallel, just thinking out loud about how it might apply to the case of immigration. I think the case of the hungry man and the bread, according to Catholic teaching, is meant to apply to cases of urgent and imminent need, when there's no other possible way to avoid starvation. I think in that case it would be not stealing at all, rather than justified theft.
In the case of self-defense, it's not that it's still homicide, but justified homicide; rather, it's not murder at all, but justified homicide. Of course it's some kind of homicide: that's just the meaning of the word. In the case of theft, it's part of the definition that you're taking something to which you have no right--and that's what's in question, whether anyone has a right to withhold food from a starving man. But it's a very narrowly defined kind of case--that is, if I'm remembering it right.
I would never say that people entering the country illegally are not breaking the civil law--of course they are.