Beauty and Experience

After class on Tuesday, I began to think about Evelyn Glennie. I know that most of you have never heard of her, so let me introduce you.

Evelyn Glennie is a percussionist. Moreover, she is a soloist, very unusual. She has performed solos with many of the world's major orchestras. I have seen her perform a couple of times, and she is amazing. She usually has a large array of instruments and items in front of her when she performs and she is always bare foot.

I first saw her a number of years ago and was amazed that I could enjoy a concerto for percussion and orchestra so much. It wasn't until years later that I found out that she is deaf. That profoundly surprised me. How could someone play so well, especially with an orchestra, and not be able to hear. A very good question.

She plays by feeling. She hears through her whole body. It really makes you wonder what hearing really is.

I began to think about her because she breaks out of the normal categories. She just lived into her vocation even despite her limitations, or her perceived limitations. If we are talking about being given the vision to really see the world as God sees it, then she is a great example. She has been given the "ears" to hear, even though she cannot hear. She hears the world in a transformational way and then shares that experience with the rest of us.

There was a documentary made about her a few years ago. Perhaps we should watch it in class? Here is the trailer for "Touch the Sound":



What do you think? Should we watch it?

Do yo want to hear something really crazy? Awhile back when I went to visit my friends who live in Methlick, Scotland I had an unusual encounter. Matt is the pastor of a small Church of Scotland congregation there. Julie, his wife, convinced me to play my violin in the service--it was the first week of Advent, so some special music was in order. After the service, an older woman approached me and thanked me for playing. We began to talk a little bit and it came out that her daughter was a musician who played all over the world. She was a percussionist... I looked at her and proclaimed "Are you Evelyn Glennie's mother?" Low and behold, she was. And Evelyn had grown up in that small town in Aberdeenshire. I was flabbergasted and amazed. It is a small world.

Why do I say all of this? Because beauty is not always what we expect It is not always what we know. Moreover, beauty, in whatever form, opens us up to the world in profound ways. I watched the trailer to this documentary and almost cried. It moved me for some reason. This made me realize that I don't always know why something is beautiful, but I know beauty when I encounter it. I guess that is as good a place to begin as any.

Peace,
Chelle