Ding! Dong! Ding! Dong!
Hark how the
bells
Sweet silver
bells
All seem to
say
Throw cares
away
Christmas is
here
Bringing
good cheer
Holiday music both expresses and amplifies the joy of the
Christmas season for me. While I rapidly
tire of the shopping mall muzak played at the holidays, I love the real thing, be it professionally performed, sung by church choirs, by children, or by friends
gathered around a piano.
You know-- real
music by real people.
I recently had the
joy of hearing a hand bell choir that was almost as much fun to see as to
hear. Each member of the choir, garbed
in festive red shirts and soft black gloves had three or four bells to play. Hand bells are not solo instruments; there
isn’t a lot you can do with three or four bells, each of which plays just one
note. But together they comprise one
instrument. It is like each person is assigned a few keys on the piano -- together all
the notes are covered but no one person can make music alone.
Hand bell choirs are remarkable instruments of trust and community. Each person must work independently, but with
a keen ear to what everyone else is doing.
No one can cover someone else’s missing note, because no one else has
the right bell. Each person has to be
ready to play their note at exactly the right time with consistent volume and
tone. Each member of the bell choir has
to measure the passage of time alike - the same number of beats at the same
tempo, as if all shared a common heartbeat.
While all members of the choir have to measure time equivalently, they clearly have different ways of experiencing it, which I have
loosely classified into three distinct styles.
There are the mathematicians, precisely counting each
beat. You can watch them move their lips,
silently counting 1,2,3,4,1,2,3,4…
Then there are the economists. These players exhibit an economy of motion so
pronounced that they barely move at all.
Concentrating intensely, they stand rigid, waiting for the moment to
ring their bell with a precise and efficient flick of the wrist.
The dancers move enough to make up for the spare motions of
the economists. They don’t count with
their minds, but instead their entire bodies swing, sway, and bounce with the
beat.
The dancers must drive the economists crazy. And vice versa. Bell choir
members must do whatever works for them individually, but also respect the disparate styles and
techniques of others in the group. They have to depend on each other to do their part, so they learn to accept that there is more than one right way to play, that doing things differently is not necessarily the same as doing things wrong. What really matters is getting the right tone on the right beat, by whatever means necessary. And when that happens, despite personal differences, music emerges.
Since everyone has to do their part and can ONLY do their
part, there are no stars in a hand bell choir.
Everyone’s notes are equally important.
It is just as important to be silent at the right times as it is to play
out at the right time. There can be no
heroes. No one can steal the show. Each
person becomes like a different vital organ in a single human body. Each person is indispensable, but no more
indispensable than anyone else.
Essential, but humble.
A hand bell choir is not about the individual, but rather the
cooperative, communal, interdependent ensemble.
People play their individual parts, not for personal recognition but to
contribute to something far greater than they could create alone.
What a concept.
What if Congressional committees had their own hand bell
choirs? Would they find a way to make
some progress? Maybe membership in a hand bell choir should be required of all
of us. It might help.
Today I am grateful for the joy of music, and especially
human voices in song.
