MY AIM IS TRUE (Melody The Librarian Mysteries Book 2) (10 page)

Mr. Van Dyke was right. When the lights dimmed in the theater, it was as if it were just Gary, Tommy and me, playing music that we enjoyed. I announced our intention to provide a glimpse of some of the possibilities the accordion as an instrument by showcasing a handful of the cultures and music in which it’s found all over the world.

We conjured rainy Parisian alleys, German beer tents, Mexican dances, and even, mid-way through the set, a quiet solo piece that hinted at the Balkan influence I wanted to showcase. It was a composition by Pauline Oliveras, and when I played the gentle, spacious melody, I imagined a sheepherder sitting on a hill, watching over his flock as the sun set. This was the magic of music! You might have never actually traveled to a particular far-flung place, but its music tells you something about the soul of the people.

The music was well received, if the applause was any indication. For the finale, both Gary and Tommy graciously exited backstage, affording my instrument the spotlight for a solo piece. Again, before playing, I introduced the music.

“Now that we’ve traveled all over the world, it’s appropriate that we return home and play something quintessentially American. Sort of.

“Charles Ives is one of the foremost American composers, although his music wasn’t well known during his own lifetime. Throughout his adult years, he supported his family by becoming a very successful businessman, and he confined his composing to his spare time. He died in 1954, leaving behind a legacy of symphonies and smaller pieces that were mostly discovered and appreciated after his death.

“This is a piece he wrote for organ when he was 17 years old. He sent it to music publishers, but they all rejected it. Fortunately, in 1949, E. Power Biggs, the preeminent concert organist of that time, discovered the piece and shared it with the public. This is the composition that I will play for you now to close our show.

“As for its American origin, the piece is actually the national anthem of England, known as ‘God Save the Queen,’ or ‘God Save the King,’ depending on who’s sitting on the throne at the time. Here in America, we call it…’America.’ This is Charles Ives’ ‘Variations on ‘America.’’ Thank you.”

I closed my eyes and began playing.

The piece begins with a stately declaration of the familiar melody, incorporating counterpoint as it continues, eventually becoming more animated, swirling like the sounds of a merry-go-round. Rather than use technical terms for the variations, I’ll try to describe it impressionistically, at least the way the music strikes me.

To me, this piece, written in 1891, is a siren song, luring immigrants to our shores with promises of prosperity, equality and freedom. The opening variations reinforce this, but also suggest that these lofty goals are somewhat unrealistic and may contain some hype.

This is followed by a quieter, more thoughtful repetition of the melody, with more subdued tones. I always imagine a ship harbor with the sun rising over a gray horizon. This variation draws the listener in closer, like passengers on a ship approaching land.

Curling arpeggios flutter about the theme now, like a bird fluttering upward, or a scarf, blown aloft in a breeze. To me, this represents hope and dreams, rising as high as the imagination allows.

The theme grows a little wobbly now. I’m actually playing in two different keys here, and it clashes deliciously. This creates a slightly sarcastic, tongue-in-cheek effect, as if our dreams were being gently mocked.

Same melody, now with harsh, contrasting, discordant accompanying chords. Things have not turned out as expected. Traffic jams. Dissension. Conflict.

And now, the melody becomes playful, a skipping waltz rhythm, perhaps the dreams of children playing together, free of their parents’ anxiety…so far. I could hear giggles in the audience. A perfect response. I get to play lots of neat, left-handed runs here.

We shift into a minor key with urgent, Spanish-sounding rhythm. The orchestral version uses castanets and crisp, snare drums in this section. It’s graceful, but maybe too fast for most dancers to keep up with. Progress? Acceleration?

It gets darker in the next pass, with heavy, dense chords, but it’s less discordant than before. This is not your ‘light’ classical music. The friction between the right hand melody and the deep chords and rumbles of the left makes me picture workmen straining as they erect bridges or skyscrapers which will long outlast them. As my right hand scurries along the keyboard, I see elevators endlessly rise and fall, delivering multitudes to the corridors of commerce.

And, finally, in the closing section, it’s Fourth of July fireworks, an orgasmic explosion of colors and volume. A real crowd pleaser!

It’s the history of modern America, encapsulated, and it all clocked in at under 8 minutes. The good, the not so good and, yes, the ugly: all of it. This was the piece that drove Mom crazy for weeks. I hope she liked it better today. It’s a composition that has survived long after its composer, and longer than most skyscrapers and monuments.

And from the reaction of the audience, it was destined to live much longer.

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Thank you for reading My Aim Is True.

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