The Sound of Patterns

An old unpublished post (is that an oxmoron?) - Aug 2006

A few days ago, I attended a formal office conclave to celebrate the inauguration of our new facility in Costa Rica. It was an elegant affair – about twenty of us from the office, and after a brief speech by the Costa Rican President (the guest of honor), we were shepherded into the cafeteria-turned-into-ball-room for champagne and light snacks. I noticed a pair of musicians at one end of the room, and immediately headed for that corner.

Throughout the two hour affair, which saw a score men, and a few women, all dressed in somber black and grey, network and talk shop, the man on the guitar and the lady on the flute plucked their melodies – oblivious to their audience, their bodies gently swaying with the music like soft waves – now the flautist would smile and challenge the man with a melody, now the guitarist would respond admirably and throw back the gauntlet.

What I liked best about the pair was not the music they played, but they way they played the music. Although they had been called upon to perform for an audience (albeit an indifferent one in this case), the music that they played was first for themselves – for them to create and them to savor. The artiste’s enjoyment was primary; making the audience happy was secondary.

And I think that is how any beautiful creation should be – a pure, confident and forthright expression of your heart, unencumbered by doubts and disbelief….not targeted towards the lowest or the largest common denominator, but created solely for the pleasure of creation. Like Howard Roark’s architecture in Fountainhead.

Later in the evening, the guitarist’s place was taken by a lady with a harp! I have never seen a harp before – it looks like something you would weave pretty patterns with. Come to think of it, that’s what music does too – except that you need to hear the patterns.