The rock vibrates, the air is riven Like ripe fruit splayed on a summer's day The bird's song is used to call a mate, Warn of danger, find a nest... If you listen you will hear our Universal music on the street, in the air. It is not the splitting of reeds, The thrumming of strings, The thrusting of air, or tambour of skins. It is the passion and yearning to fully become that which we already are. To reach out and express... to become connected and more whole. Erase the din of noise and hear the music. It is all around.
Nadia Boulanger once described a Menuhin recital: He gave a number of encores, and the last was the slow movement of Brahm's Sonata in D minor. What happened then was part of an indescribable completeness. The whole house found itself in the grip of the same mute emotion, which created silence of an extraordinary quality. Everyone understood, felt, participated in what he himself must have been feeling." Menuhin has always possessed this quality. Even as a child, his playing had an innate innocence (which is still intact) that made Einstein declare that, hearing him play, he knew there was a God.
