Wallace Hartley may be the most famous conductor you've never heard of. Born and raised in Lancashire, England, he was introduced to music at a very young age by his father Albion Hartley, the Choirmaster at the local methodist church, where the family attended Sunday services.
Despite his musical upbringing, his destiny as a musician was far from certain. In fact, after dropping out of college, where he studied business, Hartley gave up music and went to work for the Craven Union Bank in Colne. A year later he would return to his one-time hobby of playing violin in hopes of making it his profession. His road forward was difficult as he moved from town to town, playing in small communal orchestras and local dance bands.
Wallace never led a major orchestra, and there are no recordings of ensembles with him at the helm. He did not have standing in any professional music associations, and he lacked the academic credentials to teach at a university.
Why is he so famous, you ask?
Because his first and only conducting position was leading the dance band on the HMS Titanic.
On the night of April 14th, 1912, while on its maiden voyage, the RMS Titanic struck an iceberg and quickly began to sink. Hartley, recognizing the severity of the situation, assembled his musicians and began to play, hoping to calm the anxious passengers. The band played until the very end. Survivors report the band playing as the boat slipped into the cold and icy ocean playing Nearer My God to Thee as their final song, a hymn Hartley learned as a boy while in the church choir.
These seven men were more than musicians; they were hailed as heroes.
One passenger stated, "Many brave things were done that night, but none were braver than those done by men playing minute after minute as the ship settled quietly lower and lower in the sea. The music they played served as their immortal requiem and their right to be recalled on the scrolls of undying fame."
And, one London Times article about the tragic sinking stated, "The part played by the orchestra on board the Titanic in her last dreadful moments will rank among the noblest acts in the annals of heroism at sea."
None of the musicians survived.
Hartley's body was recovered from the frigid waters two weeks later, with his instrument case still attached to his lifeless body. A statue honoring Wallace currently stands at the center square of his hometown, where he is still considered a hero.
There are some parallels to be drawn between Wallace Harley and yourself. And while the circumstances are very different, we are in dire times and circumstances. There are widespread fears and devastating losses of life. Through it all, like our musical colleagues from over one hundred years ago, you stand steady and are making music.
Why does this matter? Because in birth & death, in tragedy & triumph, music has always played an integral part of humanity's brightest and darkest times. Music is as much a part of our being as our appendages and brains are. Now more than ever, music matters.
I can't imagine how Wallace and his musical colleagues felt in those final hours or what compelled them to do what they did, other than to assume that they had a job to do and knew that music would help. Nor can I fully understand how you feel or what compels you to do what you do, other than to assume the same, that you have a job to do and believe that music can help.
During this past year, on many occasions, you could have thrown up your hands and run for the proverbial lifeboat. You could have put yourself first and left your students behind. You could have hidden, paralyzed by fear, and ignored what you were trained to do.
But you didn't.
You stood your ground and manned your post. You provided aid and comfort in a time of crisis and chaos. For the past twelve months, you made the intolerable a bit more tolerable, and the darkest moments just a little bit brighter. You made music.
And while you and Wallace endured very different crises, your responses are both very similar.He led the dance band on the Titanic. You led the music of the pandemic.
Play on, my friends. Play on!
- Scott