More than once in my career, I’ve had a student express that they don’t like “slow” songs. So I tell them, “well, without slow songs, there wouldn’t be fast songs”.  After a moment of silence and a slight deer in the headlights look from them, I then say, “just like there is no loud without soft”.  By this time they’re just shaking their head thinking this is just some crazy old lady stuff she’s talking about here, but it’s true, isn’t it?  We live in a world of opposites, a world of contrasts.  And, maybe I’m just weird, but when it’s too much of one thing over another, it overwhelms me.  Where I want to live is within the contrast.

So let me share where my thoughts are coming from.  Last night we went to the theater to watch drum corps championships  streamed live from Indianapolis.  For those of you not familiar with drum corps, just think marching band on steroids and then check out Carolina Crown on YouTube – they’re my current favorite.  Anyway, this is an activity I usually love, this being my 45th year of watching these groups, but last night it was all too much of one thing.  Loud and fast, loud and fast.  Blast some phrases with very little melody, followed by some drum thing and repeat.  There was no contrast.  After a while I was just craving something soft and melodic.  It’s only when you hear or experience one side of the pendulum that you crave the opposite side.

To everything there is a season.  Read the lyrics of Turn, Turn, Turn written by Pete Seeger:

(Based on the Book of Ecclesiastes, Chapter 3).

In verse 11 of that particular chapter it says, “He (God) has made everything beautiful in its time”.   I’m putting the emphasis on “everything” here.  How can killing or dying or morning or hate be beautiful?  In of themselves, they aren’t, but it’s the contrast between killing and healing, being born and dying, hating or loving that makes time beautiful.  We have no way to judge how beautiful something is until we have seen the ugly.  And what happens when we see or hear or experience that contrast is where we become emotionally moved, and our heart is opened.  How many times, in the most horrific of circumstances does the smallest display of kindness bring smiles and joyful tears?  It is because we’ve seen that contrast and it has meaning.

So as I’m watching this incredibly hard music played with great precision at an extreme level on both the instrument and by its master, I was moved most of all by the simplicity of a quiet melody, the quietness followed at just the right time with an emotional swell of volume, like a cry of joy.  The tightness of the chest, the quick tear to the eye, brought on not only by sound but by the timeliness of the contrast within the sound.

This is why, I believe that in the midst of ugliness, whether it be within music or within our culture, that it becomes even more important to find the contrast to that ugliness.  We cannot wait for someone else to finally look for the contrast, we must take the first step ourselves. It’s when we dwell only in the ugliness that it becomes overwhelming,  when it takes over our lives and it’s all we can see.  However, like opposites light and dark, all it takes is one small light for contrast to make all the difference in the darkness.

The lyrics above were originally written somewhere between the 3rd and 10th century B.C. depending on who you talk to,  and while the words taken from the Biblical text for the song are taken out of context, the words still rang true when Pete Seeger used them in 1962 during the escalation of the Vietnam war.  I daresay they ring true today as we struggle as a nation.  The words, “a time of love, a time of hate”, especially.  To love despite the hate is where the contrast and the power lie. Life is all about contrasts and yet we have those who would linger on one side or the other rather than living within and experiencing the contrast, where cooperation and compromise dwell.   To everything there is a season….