Paradise Of Sounds And Music

Paradise Of Sounds And Music

Behold the greatest masterpiece on the screen of Space and Time:

A wonderful world; but no lovely sights were there no light, no stars to see were there no night. It would be dead were there no soul, no stir; of revolving, rotating planets, of sailing clouds, flowing water, waving trees, of crawling, fluttering, breathing life. It would be cold were there no warmth, or dull were there no forms, no shapes, no colors, scents and fragrances.

And having created this work of art, the Creator still added another master’s stroke of delightful sounds to break the silence of the world.
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Hear the delightful sounds of water murmuring, gurgling, babbling in a brook or splashing, rushing, roaring in a river; of fallen leaves, the golden paddy, Alang-Alang (sedge) rustling and trees whispering, sighing in the wind; the patter on the roof, the merry song of frogs and children playing in the rain.

Listen to a Tekukur (wood-pigeon) calling, high up in a tree and one senses the vastness and stillness of the sky. Hear the breeze-like sound of cicadas (Uir-Uir) and one is transported to the country and the woods. The “croak” of a frog, the “tuit” of the night-bird, the “thud” of a fruit falling from off its branch, or a gecko’s “tok-keeeeh” makes one feel something of the essence of the night.

Then hear such wonderful sounds as simple and natural as the crackle and the sizzle in a frying pan, or water dripping musically into a basin, of chiseling marble or chopping meat, a horse walking or trotting through a lonely road; the chimes of a clock or church bells, a lovely voice through a telephone, ...

Only artists create music out of sounds. How eloquent music is. It is even more eloquent then speech. Really, music must be made up of lyrics in sounds.

Hearing Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, we would be inspired to march bravely to the end unable to surrender. We would desperately fall in love with Porgy’s Bess, though she’s “such a liquor guzzling slut” in Gershwin’s opera and weep with Bach in his Matthew Passion.

Poetry must be music translated into verse, a painting must be music in line and colors.

The gamelan (Javanese Music) sounds like coming from some celestial abode, borne on the deepest awe-inspiring gong, as if to pervade our being and the world. And how fascinating is even a recitative of a dalang (puppeteer) or a qori(ah) who recites the Koran.

Yet, no less delightful are such little pieces as a prelude of Chopin, or a sunny, carefree, play-full sonatina, or songs some people refer to as Pop. All the same, they perform them with no less feeling than opera artists.

Our Pesinden (a woman aria singer) sing as beautiful as the Lorelei; even old men would feel like young again and they make husbands forget about their wives. The Kecapi-Suling (the flute and zither) sounds so heart-rending, one would contract heartache.

These little pieces certainly are as wonderful as the best of symphonies, opera’s or oratorios. They’re as wonderful as a cricket’s chirping to the nightingale’s song, or as falling Sawah (wet rice-field) water to the Niagara Falls, or as a firefly to the dazzling sun.

Indonesia Times, May 27, 1987