Sunday, December 25, 2005

Liquid Mind

Last summer while I was vacationing in Colorado, I walked into a bookstore in Glenwood Springs. I was hoping to find a bird book to identify a brightly colored bird I'd seen the day before. As I flipped through the pages of a couple of field guides (western tanager!), I found myself responding in an unusual way to the music playing on the store's CD player.

My first impression was that it was typical ambient new age music, quiet, relaxing, unobstrusive. Yet I couldn't ignore it. My attention kept being drawn back to this music. It bore a resemblance to the Prelude to Wagner's opera Lohengrin.

In Music and the Soul, I'd classified this Prelude as a rare instance of cosmic consciousness music, corresponding to grace (what I call middle eight, meaning that this is the eighth center's full and purest expression, uninfluenced by the characteristics of the centers above and below it).

I ended up staying in the bookstore much longer than I'd planned. The music was strangely compelling.

One aspect of eighth center music is that it seems to radiate timeless, irresistible waves of compassion, grace, or invitation to become one with the divine. It's also difficult to compose. Most examples that I'm aware of are unable to sustain this level of transcendence for longer than ten minutes. But I'd been listening for twenty.

I finally asked the bookstore owner what we were listening to. She produced the CD case for Liquid Mind III: Balance, by Chuck Wild.

I made note of the name. When I got home I did a search on the web and found the Liquid Mind website, ordered the CD and have been listening to it ever since.

Chuck Wild is a film composer in Los Angeles who wanted to write slow music to get himself, his friends, and family to slow down. He says that he considers it a compliment when people say that they fall asleep listening to his Liquid Mind Music.

There are seven CDs in the series to date. Each lasts about an hour. I currently own III (Balance), IV (Unity), and VII (Reflection).

I use these CDs frequently in my musical meditation practice. Typically, I'll lie down on the couch in my living room for 20-30 minutes with headphones and a warm blanket (necessary for a good part of the year here in New England).

I've experienced a wide range of effects during these sessions. First, I would find myself relaxing as if in layers. Each day of meditation to Liquid Mind III allowed me to go a level deeper in muscular relaxation until I felt that I'd gotten down to the bone level. Sometimes I've had a full body shakedown, a ripple of muscular release running from head to toe, seeming to realign muscles, tendons, bones in a much more organic, natural, and lasting way than I've achieved in some bodywork sessions.

I've also had the feeling at times of being held in the warm, compassionate, all-understanding embrace of a divine being. Once or twice I've had the sense of golden light pouring into my head through my crown (seventh) chakra.

People I've introduced Liquid Mind to have gotten spiritual highs from it--one way in which transcendent musical experiences, or TMEs, may express themselves. Others have found it so relaxing that they play it every night to help them fall asleep.

Being a composer myself, I seem to be hardwired to listen to music even if it's long past my bedtime. So I have yet to fall asleep to a Liquid Mind CD. As a composer, I find listening to Chuck Wild's music completely satisfying. At its best, it's like Wagner without the ego or Bruckner without the Catholicism--ravishingly beautiful, deeply felt, intelligently constructed, and spiritually transforming. It's a perfect adjunct for the yoga of listening that I developed in Music and the Soul.

In my next three posts, I'll list the centers touched by the three Liquid Mind CDs that I presently own. In the next several months, I hope to do the same for the other four CDs in the series.

Saturday, December 17, 2005

The Rautavaara Connection

In the second to last chapter of Music and the Soul, I wrote a lengthy essay on the music of the Finnish composer Einojuhani Rautavaara (b. 1928), whom I consider to be an "evolving mystic." Rautavaara's music, considered as a whole, records his spiritual evolution beyond the level of thinking mind that most composers work from.

I believe that the higher levels of creative achievement are related to higher levels of consciousness experienced by longtime meditators. Beyond the thinking mind comes higher mind, illumined mind, intuitive mind, and overmind. (These terms come from the Integral Yoga developed by the early twentieth-century spiritual teacher Sri Aurobindo.)

An evolving mystic is one who is progressing through these states with each stylistic period. Bach represents the highest level of development, as an overmind composer. At this level, the cosmic or God consciousness works directly through the composer with no interference from the ego. On the other extreme, thinking mind composers are bound by the ego.

The determining factor is where one's music originates from. The easier it is for a composer to access the seventh (expanded consciousness) and eighth (cosmic consciousness) centers in his or her music, the higher the level of spiritual evolution, and the greater the likelihood of producing a transcendent musical experience in a listener.

Rautavaara seems to me to have achieved the level of illumined mind, a rare distinction. Illumined mind composers write music from middle or upper 7.

Middle 7 is the full expression of the crown chakra or seventh center, located a the crown of the head. It deals with the nobility of humanity and the love of God. Upper 7 is a more developed version of this chakra that starts to express characteristics of the next higher center, cosmic consciousness, located just above the head. Upper 7 deals with mystical or divine ecstasy and the praise of God.

When Music and the Soul was published, I sent Rautavaara a copy and in return he thanked me by sending me a copy of the newly released CD of his Clarinet Concerto, as played by Richard Stoltzman. Being a clarinetist myself, this work was of special interest to me. Although I've listened to it several times, I'm still trying to track how Rautavaara uses the centers in this piece. So I can't provide an outline yet.

Suffice it to say that for me the concerto has a spiritual impact similar to that of Mahler's Ninth Symphony (an all-time favorite piece of mine), but in 26 minutes instead of Mahler's 81. It's clearly a late period work full of a lifetime of human wisdom, a deep retrospective look at the beauties and difficulties of life experienced in our world.

During an Internet search, I found an interesting article about Rautavaara in the on-line version of the Julliard Journal, a publication for students and alumini of the Julliard School of Music in New York. The Julliard School commissioned Rautavaara to compose a piece in honor of the school's centennial. Much to my surprise, the article about this comission ended with quotations from Music and the Soul.

(The above explanation of what I mean by evolving mystics and the seventh and eighth centers should make the references in the article a bit clearer.)

Friday, December 16, 2005

Good Review, Weird Location

Authors are always happy to get a good review. I found this one, on www.dentalplans.com, while doing a web search on my name. After reading it, I wondered just how many people who come to this site looking for dental plans are also in the market for books on the yoga of listening.

Maybe "music of the soul" is a hot topic for dentists who want to make their patients more welcome and comfortable during a root canal. There is a root chakra in yoga, and music that activates it--but, as far as I know, it has nothing to do with teeth.

Thursday, December 15, 2005

All-Time Favorite Music Quote

Since my last post, I was in Germany for three weeks, from the end of September to the middle of October. I was back in Boston for a month, then out of town for another ten days at the end of November. All this travel has made it difficult to update this blog. But I have a ton of ideas for CD reviews and journal entries, so stay tuned.

Here's my all-time favorite music quote, from the Danish composer Carl Nielsen (1865-1931):

"A melodic third ought to be regarded as a gift from God, a fourth as an adventure, and a fifth as the highest bliss."

Sometimes when I'm playing my clarinet I think about this quote and try to play the connections between the intervals in the melody with utmost consciousness, as if they were the tools of an alchemist or magician. It's amazing how much more alive the melody instantly becomes--not just more expressive, but somehow more dimensional.

This is one of the easiest ways to breathe, bow, pluck, or press the soul into whatever music you're making.