Have you ever come out of a concert hall thinking
that surely great musicians are no mere mortals because they hear
more subtly or intensely, perhaps more deeply or broadly, in any
case extraordinarily?
The
thought arises with a particular poignancy when listening to Evelyn
Glennie play or pondering what she has accomplished.
Her story has become something of a legend: from her childhood study
of piano and clarinet in a remote farm in North East Scotland where
there was not much music around; through her unexplained loss of
"useful hearing" when she was 12, at which point she fell in love
with the snare drum and recognized her vocation as solo percussionist;
through her scholarship at London's prestigious Royal Academy of
Music where she graduated with an Honours Degree at the age of 19
and won multiple awards including the highest "Queens Commendation
Prize" for all-around excellence; to her meteoric rise as a highly
acclaimed performing artist who has held audiences the world over
enthralled. She did not know until she was in London, after she
had already made up her mind to become a full-time solo percussionist,
that no other such person existed. Not knowing, not hearing what
most citizens of the music establishment did - this lack of information
would have stopped a lesser talent, a fainter spirit in its tracks.
For Glennie,
the absence was a spaciousness happily unencumbered by convention,
a stillness pregnant with extraordinary sound.
We quote from her autobiography "Good Vibrations" (1990):
"It didn't disappoint me to learn that no surgery or hearing
aid currently available was going to restore me to good hearing.
I had learned to cope with my silent world, and felt that my own
ways of listening to music gave me a sensitivity that I preferred
to the 'normal' way of hearing that I had experienced as a child.
Because I had to concentrate with every fiber of my body and brain,
I experienced music with a profundity that I felt was God-given
and precious. I didn't want to lose that special gift."
For those who would like to further explore this subject, click
HERE
to read an essay on hearing written by Evelyn's producer, co-composer
and husband Greg Malcangi.
"Wondrous, wondrous!
The teaching of the inanimate is inconceivable.
If you listen with your ears you won't understand.
When you hear the sound with your eyes, then you'll know." - Zen Patriarch Dongshan, 9th century
---VBC, Fanfaire 2000