Many Moods of Musicians

I remember a discussion in a graduate class about art. We were asked to come up with a definition of how you can determine whether or not something could be considered art. We discussed various current trends in the various mediums of art: an elephant living in the Nashville Zoo who paints pictures in watercolor; the vulgar works of shock-artists who mock the faith beliefs of others; authors who publish multiple novels a year rather than spend years to fine tune their story; composers who put out commercial jingles; etc. My group came up with the definition that "art is anything which creates an aesthetic response." We agreed that the response did not have to come from anyone other than the artist, because we creative people are often emotional enough for everyone else in the room.

As I have been listening to some of my favorite Christmas music, I am reminded of how much emotion can be packed into a piece. While much of the Christmas music we hear throughout this season would not be considered "art" by the high-brow society, think of the powerful emotional ties that hold us to these traditional carols. As we draw near to Christmas, even young kids could be heard singing at least the first lines of "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" or the title and tag ending of "Let It Snow." Songs such as "Jingle Bells" or "Frosty the Snowman" bring a smile to almost every face. But not all Christmas songs are bright and cheery like "Joy to the World." What about the soft and tender lullaby's like "Away in a Manger" or "Silent Night"? And remember that famous Elvis Presley song "Blue Christmas"? Composers for centuries, like all artists, have been able to express their moods through their art.

Since I have only done a little composing, I usually need to fall back on singing songs which reflect my mood. Recently I answered a question about what song I listen to when sad. My answer was "Send in the Clowns." For some reason the mellow memories associated with that song often make we sad, but they also cheer me up. I can also listen to some classical music that will evoke the same feeling, specifically Tchaikovsky's Symphony Pathetique. When I want to relax, some smooth jazz by Harry Connick Jr. or maybe some Mozart. When I am in a good mood I might be listening to TobyMac or Denver and the Mile High Orchestra.

Even though my career and ministry are in the music field, I have found that the medium which best allows me to express myself is through writing. I have written hundreds of poems, most for my own enjoyment or as a vehicle for venting my frustrations. I have also written hundreds of dramatic sketches and probably started about a dozen larger stories. As much as I love to write, I absolutely hate to write by hand. I learned to type when I got my first computer (a Commodore 64). I only type with six fingers (my thumbs, middle and pointers), but I can type almost as fast as somebody who has studied the proper method. Often I am able to type as fast as I can create the thoughts in my head. This allows me the freedom to put down on paper my free flowing thoughts much faster than by writing it by hand.

But there are some moods that neither music nor writing can help me with. I guess it is what most musicians refer to as a "funk." These are often caused by a negative encounter, a bad experience, a strong and sad memory or just disappointment in myself at a certain time. My artistic soul seems to be frozen whenever I am in a funk. The music all falls flat, the words are dull and the images are blurred. So what is an artist to do when this happens? Then we must rely on others who have experienced these "funks" and let them lead us out. For example: King David was in a funk when the prophet Nathan told him that his son from Bathsheba was going to die because of his own sin. Psalm 51 was born out of his experience. Or how about the great prophetic Psalm 22 which Christ referred to on the Cross. That begins with the agony of one who feels that God has abandoned them, yet ends with the affirmation that they know God is with them always.

Others can find comfort in the traditional hymns or Gospel songs about heaven. One of my favorite songs from the Contemporary Christian movement, "Strength of the Lord" by Phil McHugh, helps me during those difficult times and I want to finish with the lyrics from it:

Sometimes life seems like words and music
That can't quite become a song
So we cry and sigh then we try again
And wonder what could be wrong

It's not in trying but in trusting
Not in running but in resting
Not in wond'ring but in praying
That we find the Strength of the Lord

But when we turn to the Lord at the end of ourselves
Like we've done a time or two before
We find His Truth is the same
As it's always been we never will need more

It's not in trying but in trusting
Not in running but in resting
Not in wond'ring but in praying
That we find the Strength of the Lord

He's all we need for our ev'ry need
We never need be alone
Still He'll let us go if we choose to
To live life on our own
Then the only good that will ever be said
Of the pains we'll find ourselves in
Well they are places to gain the wisdom to say
I'll never leave Him again

It's not in trying but in trusting
Not in running but in resting
Not in wond'ring but in praying
That we find the Strength of the Lord