Transcendence Through Art, Music And Nature
Taking us beyond the limits of ordinary experience: this is how art and music bring transcendence into our existence.
Have you ever had a moment where you were moved to the point of tears, lack of words or some other elevated state of being? Maybe you were looking at a beautiful view in nature, or experiencing a wonderful piece of art or music. Something in that moment touched you and brought you to a different type of presence.
Over the years, I’ve had many such moments visiting art galleries, attending concerts or spending time in nature.
Perhaps the most influential example of this in my life dates back to when I was 19 and saw my first opera.
My First Opera
I was studying music at university and was particularly interested in modern 20th Century composers. When a classmate of mine saw that Seattle Opera was programming Satyagraha, an opera by Philip Glass, we both decided to buy tickets and drive down together.
Quite honestly, all I knew about the opera beforehand was that it was about the life of Mohandas K. Gandhi. I expected minimalist, repetitive music and beyond that, I had no clue.
What took place on stage was both visually and musically stunning.
A transparent vertical screen covered the whole front of the stage from floor to ceiling. This screen provided a support for between-scene projected explanations, as well as a hazy, dreamy view of the action on stage.
The opera is in Sanskrit, with the texts taken from the Bhagavad Gita. Philip Glass and his librettist Constance DeJong never expected the audience to be able to understand the texts. Instead of translating every line with surtitles, as is the norm with operas, the brief between-scene explanations helped to set the scene, allowing the audience to take it all in without having to flip their attention between the singers and the translations.
The Meditation In Repetition
If you’ve ever heard Philip Glass’ music, you know that it repeats a lot. That’s his trademark style. Now, repetition of musical phrases 10 or 20 times can seem boring, but once there are hundreds of repetitions, it becomes hypnotically meditative.
The choreographer of this particular production used repetition as a means to further deepen the entrancing nature of the work. Entire scenes were repeated a number of times, with fewer and fewer props (but exactly the same motions), or with more and more people on stage with each repetition.
In the second act, there is a protest song, in which Gandhi encourages the Indian population of South Africa to burn their identity cards. The music builds and builds, then stops, leaving complete silence, only to repeat itself a few times over: music builds, stops, and silence.
In the version I saw, the first silence was accompanied by a blackout, with one flame held by Gandhi. In the second and third iterations, more and more people joined him on stage. Each silence and blackout had every person on stage holding a flame. By the end, it seemed as if there were 100 people and 100 flames.
This scene had me mesmerized and awestruck; I just wanted it to go on and on and never stop. Of course my description can’t do it justice or take you to that same feeling, but you can listen to the piece here to get an idea of the effect.
Speechless
This was the first time I’d ever experienced an opera, let alone a deeply symbolic, hypnotic modern opera.
After the 3.5-hour experience, my classmate and I had a 3-hour drive home ahead of us. We were barely able to speak. It was as if any words or comments on what we had just experienced would take away the spell cast by the magic of the moment.
Since moving to France, I have been lucky enough to have many opportunities to see Philip Glass operas. I’ve seen Akhnaten once (an opera based on Egypt’s first monotheistic pharaoh) and Satyagraha two times in the last three years, with different productions and staging than the one I saw in Seattle.
While I don’t expect to have the same experience each time, I always come away moved, with a feeling of transcendence.
The 2017 production I saw in Basel, Switzerland, provided surtitles in English. When I saw the last few words of the opera sung by Gandhi, I started to cry because of the comfort and truth it provided, especially given the current political climate.
In this aria, Gandhi sings a section of the Bhagavad Gita that describes how the Lord Krishna returns to Earth again and again in new incarnations, whenever his presence is needed. As he’s singing, we see a silent Martin Luther King Jr. behind a podium, located elsewhere on stage.
“Whenever the law of righteousness withers away and lawlessness arises, then do I generate myself on earth. I come into being age after age and take a visible shape and move a man with men for the protection of good, thrusting the evil back and setting virtue on her seat again.” – Final aria in Satyagraha
The first time I saw the opera, I was in tears because Gandhi turned to look up to King, who was on a large pedestal above the stage. King, who had his back turned to the audience the whole third act, turned around and reached out to Gandhi. I got the message the first time, but reading the text added a new level of understanding. It was SO moving.
Little Moments Of Transcendence
Just last weekend, as my husband and I were driving back from a weekend in Sète, we were tuned into France Inter radio and heard French composer, Régis Campo, talk about Glass’ first opera, Einstein on the Beach. Of course my ears perked up as he was talking about the work and breaking down the acts.
Then France Inter played a work by Campo called Une solitude de l’espace (A solitude of space), which also uses repetitive musical phrases. There we were, driving home after a magical weekend away in the south of France. The sun had just set; the sky was a beautiful mix of blazing apricot clouds and an indigo blue sky. This music was the perfect accompaniment to our journey home, taking us both elsewhere and deeper within ourselves. It was a small shared moment of transcendence through music.
You can hear the piece for yourself here:
What are the moments of transcendence you have experienced through art, music or nature?
How do you feel inspired afterward? Does it change how you are in this world?
I’d love to hear your experiences in the comments down below!