Ma, Please Don't Be Offended

(published on vhcle.com)

It’s not even seven o’clock and I’m already taking illegal photos. We’re at San Francisco’s Davies Symphony Hall and I can’t help but take pictures of the strategically-built auditorium with my husband’s iPhone. For those of us who have experienced the Hall before, I’m sure you’ll agree that one can’t help but feel dwarfed by the grandeur of the ceiling with its giant, plastic-looking shields created to aide in warming tone and bouncing beautiful sounds from ground to roof to ground. It’s incredible, and the concert hasn’t even started.

We’ve come to watch the famous Yo-Yo Ma play his 1733 Montagnana cello (or will it be the 1712 “Davidoff” Stradivarius?) in Brahms’ Double Concerto, Opus 102. But it’s Colin Jacobsen who takes the stage first. Who, you might ask? Proficient violinist and composer, Jacobsen looks unabashedly young, sporting a handsome baby face barely camouflaged by a gentleman’s mustache and goatee. The audience politely claps, because that is what we are trained to do when someone steps on stage. It doesn’t matter if we are left waiting in suspense for at least two full minutes before the door opens and the expected artist actually appears. We clap.

Jacobsen politely bows in turn, and starts in with the most beautiful rendition of Bach’s Chaconne from Partita No. 2 in D minor. That song, to those of us who aren’t as well-versed in classical music as my husband (who can name the birth and death dates of every famous composer who ever lived), begins with four notes played as two – two strings being played for each note – creating rapturous tension from the very first downbeat. This man, a stranger to me at 7:02pm, is now my guide through the throes of Bach’s memories of his first wife, Maria Barbara. Deeply moving, achingly desperate, I am lost and not seeking to be found, hidden in the sonorous and sharp measures of music played by one of Juilliard’s finest collegians. God, the sound hurts so good. And Bach is just the beginning.

The audience no longer claps – it applauds! We are thoroughly impressed, and as I admire my fellow music lovers, I notice one of Jacobsen’s mentors, Yo-Yo Ma himself, tucked in-between what could only be friends and family seated in the third tier box. I tap my husband and stealthily point up to Ma’s surreptitious seat, and we smile, appreciating Ma’s encouraging approval of a protege's work. Yo-Yo Ma created a group called the Silk Road Ensemble about ten years ago in which the touring musicians play music inspired by the cultural and intellectual traditions of the Silk Road trade route. Jacobsen has been a member since its inception.

The next piece is a hauntingly beautiful and discordant “Schnittke”, Prelude in Memoriam by Dmitri Shostakovitch. This one is scary, and I mean scary. I feel as though Jacobsen was pulling me across ancient Soviet borders to walk amongst dead Stalinists. The piece continues with echoes from a second violin, played by Nadya Tichman. She towers over Jacobsen from across the stage, host to the greatest head of gray fro I’ve ever seen. She frightens me. If Jacobsen tromps and screeches through Soviet lands, Tichman is the ghost of Soviet past, and it’s not happy. What an eerie piece of music.

Again, the audience applauds – this time out of awe and general speechlessness, as if to ward off the ghost of Shostakovitch himself. The two bow and gather center stage as they are joined by a viola, cello, bass and bongo. Each musician makes themselves comfortable. As with Bach’s Chaconne, the drop of the first note hits the floor, bounces off the plastic shields and hits our ears with a smack! They’re off and running, and it’s a race to the top! They call it “Ascending Bird”. Jacobsen and Siamak Aghaei, a master of the Iranian dulcimer, created this fast-paced, bright piece to represent an ancient Persian myth of transcendence. A bird attempts to reach the sun in an effort to shed the confines of its earthly body. Twice it falls, and yet, in sheer determination, ascends once more, finally breaking through barriers between physical life and eternity. Bird and sun become one. Or so the story goes.

The troupe hits its last note with a quick stroke, and suddenly we’re up on our feet! No longer the polite, skeptical audience from an hour before. This final movement has released us from our own physical hesitations to not only appreciate, but participate in what became the highlight of the symphony. Jacobsen and his troupe shared a bit of that transcendence with us, and for lack of a better word, we’re pumped!
They bow, leave the stage, come back, bow again, leave the stage again, and yes, come back for a third bow. What an opening to an amazing night. One of the ushers mentioned their attempt at getting folks to go in for the pre-concert, to his chagrin and their loss. But many of us were the better for it.

The actual concert, or the second half, as I refer to it, was a beautiful portrayal of two talented musicians sharing the stage for Brahms’ Double Concerto. A pleasure to watch Ma and Jacobsen play off of each other with each phrase and stanza of Brahms’ grand and complicated piece. Such intricate rays of sunlight seem to poke through a dense forest as dual soloists “speak” their first lines. A few measures later and they make way for clarinets, oboes and flutes to introduce a new theme. Ma and Jacobsen echo the moment and bring us back to the dark forest floor via accidental notes and major chords in an exciting adventure through Brahms’ musical creation. The piece ends with driving force and the classic “final note” that indicates completion. Of course, we are enraptured by being in the presence of such musical masters and stand in appreciation.

While feeling so thankful I was able to see Yo-Yo Ma in concert, I cannot help remembering the moving moment when I first heard Jacobsen play. Ma, please don’t be offended, but I must admit I left with transcendence, rather than Brahms, on my mind.

Past Musings Worthy of Re-Visiting

He Who Has Been Forgiven Much

46You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. 47Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—for she loved much. But he who has been forgiven little loves little."

48Then Jesus said to her, "Your sins are forgiven." Lk. 7:46-48

"He who has been forgiven much, loves much." What an amazing, and yet difficult concept at times. Sometimes when I have had to humble myself after a foolish act, it can be so difficult to love people. BUT... I'm not sure that love was the true love Jesus spoke of when He told this to the disciples.

Love is more "patient and kind...", not a smiling face or a phone call I was supposed to make. It's looking at someone in the eyes, knowing full well what they've done, and realizing in your own heart that you are no better, even though you thought you were. You are no stronger. I am no wiser, I am no more capable. Jesus is the only one ... He puts in me what I can not put in myself. Grace. And that grace can only come after I've allowed Him to forgive me for what continue to be the stupidest mistakes of my life. Love is not always "doing" things because you think that's what they need or want. It's humbling. It's just understanding. It's just... long-suffering. Long suffering. Have I ever suffered long? And that, for someone else? Perhaps. But I've only known the bliss of that suffering after I've walked in their shoes (and most definitely not on purpose... because I thought I was better than that).

And so Jesus, get this, JESUS underwent all the same temptations we deal with:

18Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted." Heb. 2:18

He suffered. He suffered long. Because He knew we would suffer, in our pain, our guilt, our shame. And He wanted to be able to look us in the eyes and know what it was we went through. So we can now look others in the eyes, unwavering, with compassion and LOVE. And forgive.

Grace. How strong are the arms of grace. God, how You've carried me, taught me how to wear grace and pass it on to those I love, who have had to look me in the eyes and tell me something no one ever wants to say. And I can have grace. Because I am no better, and because He has had grace for me.