I used to think that dynamics were the be-all and end-all solution to carry emotions in music. But, as I move forward on my journey towards ultimate music (I’ve still got a long way to go), I think that it’s a bit more complicated than that.
Here I will mention something fairly obvious. For most people on the planet, the most emotional charged music is the one they remember their mum singing to them to put them to sleep. That’s right: a lullaby. That’s the atomic bomb, loaded to the gill with all sorts of unquantifiable amount of feelings.
Those bits are usually something very very simple. English speaking people have “Rock a by baby”. A lovely song. French people have “Au clair de la lune”. Every language nurtures a few of these jewels. These are the sweetest melodies ever sang, with no accompaniment, since you cradle the baby in your arms and there are no orchestras available around you, and it’s coming from the mouth of the most adored being in the human race: good ol’ mum.
After that, you see and hear the world and, if you have the chance of experiencing music in your home, the one your parents listen to before you developed your own taste will have a great emotional impact. Was Dad a fan of Opera, specifically the gorgeous tone of Maria Callas? From now until the end of time, your ears will perk, your heart will pinch every time your old man music will come on the radio.
Let some time pass and that child will eventually explore things on her/his own. Here comes puberty. That’s a big one. Followed by the heavy trumpets of the teenage years.
Now when you’re a teenager, you get to be hip, to be cool, to be fresh, to be awesome. Why? Because you are young, that’s number one, and because you said so, that’s also number one (Hold the press! Does it mean, there are two number ones? That’s impossible, you can’t do that. Yes, you can, if you’re a teenager, it makes perfect sense. Ask around.). You get to chose the songs, the artists, the country, the influence. Oh, do not neglect those years and the impact they have on the development of a human being. Whatever is in her/his music collection at 17 years old will probably still be there once you flip the numbers from 17 to 71.
This taste will, of course evolve. I don’t think I had the patience for a full evening of classical music with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra when I was young. Now, no problem. I can do 3 hours without batting an eye.
There is a field that tugs on your heart constantly in music: Film scoring. What an art! If you watch one of these big Hollywood blockbuster you know what I’m talking about. There is that bombastic charge of the horns when the hero decides to go to war. We all recognize the distant melancholic piano as the images go to a flash back when all was good and the lights were a soft orange. Who can forget those moments? I can. Of course, I can, because those music are not supposed to be memorable. Unless it’s Celine Dion singing “The heart of the ocean”. Then, yes, I’ll remember that. That and Jack! Jack! Oh, dear Jack, you and the music that’s playing when you drawn have scarred my memory and manage to make a grown man cry.