Teresa’s Aviary
Thank you for so many gratifying comments from last week’s report about attending the Grammys. This week’s boost is about an extraordinary exhibit of birds created by my beloved, Teresa Jordan. And then a few more words about the Grammy’s and more ruminations on music.
Last night, a preview of Teresa’s exhibit, “Birds of Praise,” took place at Salt Lake City’s Phillips Gallery. If you are any place near, we’d love to see you at the opening reception, Friday, April 15 between 6 and 9 pm. The work will be available to view Tuesday through Saturday through May 13. Click Here to see all the images in the exhibit with contact information. Below are a few photos from the exhibit to give you a taste. What you will witness is a veritable aviary of nearly 50 framed birds that all come from Teresa’s practice during the year, drawing a bird a day for 365 days. If they were not contained in frames, these birds would be flying all over the gallery which could get messy.
Also, I am providing a link to a short video Teresa produced with the support of the Nature Conservancy that illuminates her year-long project. The video begins with an extraordinary murmuration of swallows.
Murmuration
The word murmuration comes from the sound a flock of swallows makes as the birds swoop and dive en mass, moving together in a mysterious and stunningly choreographed dance. Murmuration is an odd word because it also defines the human sound of grumbling discontent.
Perhaps especially when I’m feeling discontented, watching a murmuration of swallows makes my heart soar. It’s not just the sound of those thousands of wings; it’s the entire experience of hundreds or thousands of birds moving together in beauty. When I’ve witnessed it, I feel something majestic and musical. It’s like the heavens have given me a transcendent gift. What do the swallows feel? A murmuration is a practical way to express the social power of the flock, massing in motion in order to be safe, to thrive. All I know is that to me, it feels like freedom. That’s odd because flying with the flock, in the protection of numbers, almost seems counter to individual freedom.
After writing my boost about attending the Grammy’s, I got this response from a beloved friend who is not only a fine bluegrass musician but a top notch music collector. He admitted it was a rant, but I can well imagine having written something similar, if not so articulate, a decade ago.
“I am unapologetically old school. Pop music, including what is feloniously promoted these days as country, rock and folk and much of so called modern bluegrass, is a vast musical wasteland for me. There is nothing there for me, and I could not pick out any of the current big stars in a police lineup or name a single big hit of the past ten years. When I see thousand-dollar dresses and stilettos, fog banks, and laser shows, not to mention narcissistic pandering and ignorant politicizing, I am headed for the whiskey bar on the other side of the tracks where I can find real people.”
My friend is not alone in his appraisal of popular music. As one of my favorite music writers Ted Gioia observes, “A decade ago, 40 million people watched the Grammy Awards. That’s a meaningful audience, but now the devoted fans of this event are starting to resemble a tiny subculture.” This year, only somewhere around ten million tuned in to the Grammys which was less of an audience than a popular college basketball game that same weekend.
So why do I want to learn about and appreciate popular music after many years of discarding it in favor of more archaic tunes? I still love and play old-time music, so what has changed?
I don’t know if the metaphor of murmuration applies to humans or music but what the hell. I’m going with it. Like swallows who are just one species in a wide world of birds, humans are only one species out of the myriad, whether we like it or not. Some of us feel alienated from our species, alone in the world, imprisoned in some brutal aviary. Others fly in formation with a few other trusted souls. Still others trust in the mass murmuration of humankind. Where do you fit? If I’m honest, I fit into all those categories at different times though I most often see myself as that lone bird observing the flock in the photo above.
Attending the Grammys last week and reveling in its entirety almost seemed like flying with a great human flock. I still like flying with my kind and, if I’m honest, I feel safer there. But lately I’ve come to appreciate pop music, which seems more and more to me like a mass murmuration of music.
My life as both as a folklorist and radio producer has given me a lot of practice entering as a guest into cultures other than my own. I revel in polite exploration, so over the years, I’ve had scores of opportunities to join in diverse murmurations.
If there is a visual representation of what it is like to play music with the 3hattrio, it would look like a murmuration of three. For the past decade I’ve toured, traveled, shared a friendship and most importantly played intimate music with Greg and Eli. Eli is almost fifty years younger than me. Part of understanding our dynamic is to realize that Eli brings a wide appreciation of music that, in part, is the music of his generation. I’ve learned to appreciate that.
Another teacher I credit has been my grandson PJ. As a six-years-old, he introduced me to “Electric Pow Wow.” My response was to buy him a small Native-American-made hand drum. He liked it and took an interest in indigenous cultures, but it turned out to be a phase. After Electric Pow Wow, he introduced me to Lil Naz X’s runaway hit, “Old Town Road.” Now, I’m thrilled to report that I’ve seen Lil’ Naz perform live.
We live in a fragmented world. But even if we are strong individuals, families, tribes, races, religions, or nations, the fact is we are one species, homo sapiens, and that means something. I know the ills of the world cannot be cured through music alone, but I was amazed by how many people who took the stage at the Grammys expressed their belief that music can heal. I like that hope.
Like my friend I am put off by the music world that is artificial, arrogant, and based on money and greed. And yet, the increasingly fragmented world pains me. I believe that like the canary in the mine, music is an indicator of the health of humankind. These days, we all need to be part of the cure.
I’m so happy to be here with you and Teresa, to see the show and to be part of the celebration!
So wish I could be there to see it. Loved both the videos.