Raising the Roof & My Spirits, 90′ Underground
Before Saturday night, all I really knew about the violin was the story inside The Devil Went Down to Georgia.
He was looking for a soul to steal.
Mark Landson’s music stole my heart, body and soul, 126 steps below the earth’s surface, as Neo Camerata performed to perfection.
I am not a classical music connoisseur and wouldn’t know the difference between Mozart or Beethoven’s 5th symphony. I recognize the deep beat of bum, bum, bum bum…..and that’s about it. I fancy myself more of a classic rock specialist.
But then I met the geologists at The Cave Without A Name and realized I don’t know much about rocks or fossils or caves that are tens of thousands of years old either.
I also cannot compose a four part classical piece of music like Mark Landson did and I can’t stop talking about what that experience felt like. I’ve always believed that music is a universal language. It’s a language of love and passion like no other. What words can’t say, a strong melody line can.
And it changed me.
Sitting several rows back, snuggled into the intimate throne room where temperatures are a constant 66 degrees, I had a total Pretty Woman at the opera, kind of moment.
Within hearing the first few soothing notes of his piece, Dream on a Cirrus sky, my eyes welled, a tear fell, and at the same time, I received a special cave kiss. A large drop of water landed right on top of my head. The combination of the peace, the sound and the spirit inside the cave, I felt like I’d been baptized all over again.
It was an undoing of every worldly thing that stresses me out.
Not more than 10 minutes into the entire show, I noticed something I haven’t for a really long time.
My hands were not swollen.
I have Reynauds and typically my hands are swollen and red and feel like giant sausages that hang off the ends of my hands, but I don’t really feel them. I promise I am not making this up. I noticed that I could feel my fingers and all of the inflammation in my hands was gone.
On several occasions, the music struck a chord in my nerves that calmed me to such a degree that I physically noticed my neck and back stop hurting.
When the last note resonated from the roof top of the cave, I whispered to my sister-in-law, “I’m pretty sure no one describes music like this, but that just felt like a back rub.”
She agreed it was exactly what she needed after working long and tiring hours, fighting traffic and a husband who wanted to go downtown and do the same old, same old thing.
My nephew, a thoughtful, old-school music loving sax player brought his cellist girlfriend and the two teenagers thought the experience was very, very cool. Even after seeing many wonderful concerts at the elite Tobin Center, they agreed this was a memory of a lifetime and a moment not to be missed.
We are all looking forward to being back again on June 10th for their next performance.
I’m telling everyone I know that Mark Landson will be noted as the reason for my conversion…..
to classical music.