Do You Hear What I Hear? is a worldwide holiday classic penned in 1962. Originally released by the great crooner Bing Crosby, this Holiday staple has been covered more than 200 different artists since its inception.
Written by the husband and wife team of Noel Regeny and Gloria Shayne, this iconic work was conceived and composed as a plea for global peace during the Cuban Missile Crisis.
This Holiday staple asks three simple and yet profound questions:
Do you hear what I hear?
Do you see what I see?
Do you know what I know?
Recently, my wife and I attended the hit Broadway musical Wicked. We have seen the production multiple times since its release and are well-acquainted with both the music and lyrics. However, this experience was profoundly different.
To get my son (who is in band) more interested in music, before the start of the show I took him to see the pit orchestra.
OMG!
The underground and mostly covered space contained four partitioned plexiglass spaces with thirteen musicians playing 36 different instruments into 46 microphones. It was ridiculous!
Geeking out on the enormity of it all, I asked the lead flutists about her instruments - she showed me her array of flutes, head joints, foot attachments, and explained the reason and rationale for each element.
I was entranced - my son? Not so much.
As I returned to my seat for the show's start, I decided to "tune out" on the production and "tune in" on the orchestration. I wanted to hear the alto flute, and understand this choice every other musical one that had been made.
I had an intensely different experience than previous shows. It was like I was hearing the musical for the first time. Not only did I hear things I had never heard before, but I found myself wanting to ask the arranger (William David Brohn) so many questions.
Why the alto flute in the ballad? What did it bring that new traditional flute could not provide?
Why use the suspended, diminished chord with the Eb clarinet on top as the opening overture statement?
Why 5/8 time during the dance sequence?
Why bassoon and not bari-sax at the close of the first act?
How did he factor instrument doublings and the logistics of instrument switching in the arrangement?
And so much more.
I was giddy with questions and thoughts. Even though it was my fourth time seeing the musical, it was my first time hearing it.
I was on fire and wanted to share the experience and my curiosities with someone - but I had no one. I wanted to ask my wife and son:
Do you hear what I hear?
Do you see what I see?
Do you know what I know?
My wife is a true sport. Despite having little interest in how music is composed/orchestrated, and even less knowledge, she has accepted that she lives with a music teacher and is a willing and eager participant in all that comes with it. But, as much as she enjoys music, she does not UNDERSTAND it. That is completely different.
How could she?
She did not sit in a practice room for hours in college. She is not a music theory "survivor." She did not analyze four part figured bass writing until three in the morning. She was never chastised by a professor for not working hard enough (even thought you had been at school for twelve hours seven days in a row). She doesn't know the difference when resolving a German 2nd chord versus an Italian 2nd chord. But, if we're being honest, neither do I.
In the end, despite her deep love of music, our experience with music will be deeper, richer, and more complex because:
We know what she doesn't.
We see what she can't.
We hear what she misses.
She knew the story; I knew the music elements used to tell it effectively. She could see the costumes and props; I could see the complexity of the instruments, chambers and equipment required to bring them to life. She could hear the melody; but I could hear the harmonies and orchestrations that gave it depth, complexity, and a sense of irony.
We saw the same production, but had two VERY different experiences.
Remember what Noel and Gloria asked us?
Do you hear what I hear?
Do you see what I see?
Do you know what I know?
Being immersed in the musical world means that you and I are surrounded by musicians. People who see what we see, hear what we hear, and know what we know.
Because I am surrounded by this, it seems normal to me, when in fact, itis not. I forget to stop and appreciate the fantastical, magical world I get to live in. A place where I am fluent in a language that few people are. I need to remember the time and effort that went in to training my ears, mind, and hands my brain to process information and produce these experiences.
This gift of understanding we have is special. It is born of hard work and sacrifice. It took time, effort, and work done in solitude that few outside of this calling will ever understand. It can't be replicated in the Metaverse, explained by Chat GPT, or recreated by Apple Glass. It is ours. we earned it, and so we must appreciate and treasure it for the gift that it is.
Yes, I can take my wife to Wicked again. I can introduce her to the conductor who can show her the score and explain the orchestration. I can even try to explain the nuance and irony of all of the musical choices that the musical team made. But, even after all of that, she will never...
See what we see.
Know what we know.
Hear what we hear.
And that's just Wicked!
Have a great week everyone.
Scott
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