fiddling while rome burns

My husband, like most men, is so difficult to shop for.  That’s why this year when I heard him say before Christmas that he’d like to go to the symphony sometime, I went right online and ordered tickets for a Beethoven and Tchaikovsky concert on Sunday afternoon, January 19.  I had no idea what would ensue in the new year. 

The Sunday of our concert was only the second Sunday after the Eaton Fire.  It felt utterly frivolous to go to the symphony.  But that morning our pastor said that one of the most important things to do in a time of crisis is remember to eat and sleep and walk and do life in the most normal way possible.  

Going to the symphony is not one of our normal activities.  But we decided to go anyway.  And we were not alone.  The Disney Concert Hall was full of people seeking the solace of music.  Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 5, his last piano concerto, was written around the time that Napoleon’s army attacked Vienna, driving the composer literally underground.  French artillery was shelling perilously close to Beethoven’s home, but he would not flee.  Instead, he found temporary shelter in his brother’s cellar.  Later that summer he produced this concerto.

What does one do when your city is under attack by bombs or by wind and fire?  What is the role of art in such a time?  I recently read a novel by Ariel Lawhon.  In her lengthy author’s note in the back of the book she wrote, “I do not claim to be an historian.  I’m simply a storyteller.”  Simply a storyteller?  There is nothing simple about telling a good story or painting a picture or writing a concerto.  Art is one of God’s gifts that elevates us and gives us hope when things look bleak.  When my daughter suffered a childhood illness, I brought her more books that medication.  I told her, “If you have a book, you are never alone.”  It is the same with music.  I’m so grateful that we had these tickets to hear two of Beethoven and Tchaikovsky’s last works.  I came home with my heart lifted. 

So now, in this time when the news is so hard to bear, remember to eat, sleep, walk, read a book, listen to a symphony, watch a great film.  Maybe you, like me, will find hope in a moment of appreciation, or even creation, of beauty.

Love, Liz