A musical interlude

I was speaking today with a friend, who asked me, in the course of conversation, what was my favorite piece of music for orchestral strings.

I instantly nominated Ralph Vaughan Williams' Fantasia On A Theme Of Thomas Tallis. It's been a lifeline for me, a hugely important part of my life for over two decades. I've been listening to it this evening, and many memories have come flooding back . . . some very painful, others less so. I thought it might help you understand the impact that music can have in a human life if I shared some of them.

Back in 1983, the violence in South Africa was getting more and more serious as the majority Black population protested the policy of apartheid. I was active in efforts to assist the victims of violence, as was my fiancée, Sue.

I'd met Sue at a party held by some friends. She walked in the door, our eyes met . . . and it was as if lighting struck both of us simultaneously. I knew at once that something incredibly important had happened. We spent the evening talking together, discovering more about each other, and by the end of the party I was sure that this was the woman I wanted to marry. She later confessed that her mind was made up about me just as quickly.

We had only a few months together. Sue was also involved in helping the victims of violence. One night, very late, she was called to go out to a township where riots had flared up, and people needed help. She set off in her Mini . . . and collided with a double-decker bus at a corner. I had to identify her body next morning.

For the next couple of years I probably wasn't nice to know. I shut out almost everyone, moved to another city a thousand miles away, took a new job there, and tried to start afresh: but inside I was hurting very badly. I forced the feelings down, and tried to "man it out", as they say, but without success.

Late one night, I was sitting in my apartment, staring at the wall, feeling trapped inside my own skull. I began to pace the living-room, desperate for some way to break out . . . and my eyes fell on a recording of Vaughan Williams' Fantasia. Sue had introduced me to it. I hesitated, because I knew the enormous emotional power of this piece, and was afraid what might happen if I listened to it: but it was as if I could hear Sue whispering to me, "Go on, Peter, put it on. Let it speak to you."

As the first strains of the strings floated through the apartment, I slumped into a chair, and at last began to cry. I hadn't been able to find a release for my grief for all those months, and Vaughan Williams gave it to me. It was almost as if I could feel Sue sitting next to me, cradling me in her arms, letting me sob out my pain and isolation on her spiritual shoulder.

I must have played the Fantasia half-a-dozen times that night. I've no idea what the neighbors thought! Still, it broke the walls I'd built inside around my grief, and gave me a new beginning. I've since used it as a therapy when dealing with those who've lost loved ones, and found that in many cases, it produces the same effect. It's partly melancholy, partly expressing grief and sadness, yet it's also uplifting, particularly in the way it ends, with the violin soloist playing the theme as if birdsong were rising at dawn.

The Fantasia is undoubtedly right at the top of my favorite pieces of music for strings. The clip below is of a live recording. I selected it because this particular recording makes it easy to distinguish between the different instruments - violin, viola, cello and double-bass - and to follow the different lines of each.

Here, for your listening pleasure, is Vaughan Williams' Fantasia On A Theme Of Thomas Tallis. Put down your books and papers, ignore any distractions, turn up the volume (way up!), and listen to a musical masterpiece.





Peter