episode 1

Sense of Sound

An Essay by Catherine J. Hall

 

 

I have heard many times that the sense of smell is unique among human senses in its ability to trigger memory at the most basic neurological level.  Maybe it is true – anything is arguable.  For instance, you could argue that Belle and Sebastian is the best band in the world.  Well, maybe that’s a poor example, because it is a truth among all truths.  I swear it, or my name isn’t Kiki.

 

But if someone told me that her Aunt Helga is arguably the world’s fastest harmonica player, I would want some facts to back that up…or maybe I wouldn’t.  What do I care about your Aunt Helga?

 

Let’s get back to that sense of smell, shall we?  I believe it, to some extent, as much as a person can believe anything based on his or her own experience.  The smell of books and coffee will always remind me of my grandparents up from Alabama at Christmas time.  You know, in the way that Barnes and Noble always smells like the time that Grandpa’s dog (Duke) peed all over the tree and the presents.  Ahh, memories.  On the other hand, just a little hyssop whiff of Stephen’s soap makes my heart swell.  And citrus past its prime will always make me feel nauseous…just because of that winter full of morning sickness when I left a holiday crate of oranges in a downstairs cabinet until there was nothing left to find but a mass (once round, once orange) of grey mold in a wooden packing crate.

 

Scent can be very specific in that way, although there are surely cultural universals of smell as well.  Most of humanity recognizes and reacts accordingly to the fresh smell of the ocean, the sweetness of a baby’s soft head, and bread rising in a warm kitchen.  Smelling smoke means that there is fire, and smelling dog shit on your shoe means that you are in Paris (or on the grounds of  my poorly-managed apartment complex). 

 

There may be no doubt that sense of smell can bring to mind memories and even dreams.  It is probably a matter of degrees, of nanoseconds, whether smell triggers memory faster than sight, or touch, or taste, or sound.  Surely memory is made of all of these and stored in our hands and tongues as well as our minds and hearts.  And in our ears. Sound, music in particular, is like scent in its ability to comfort or haunt you.

 

So much of life happens too quickly, and passes out of mind before turning into a real memory, but music has a way of arresting a moment, of serving as a marker to events of great, or even of no, significance.  Why does the wedding march call up tears?  Why does a lullaby soothe in any language?  Plants and womb-bound babies respond and grow to the sounds of classical music, but show distress at any loud or discordant sounds.      

 

Music chronicles our past.  What is cutting edge slowly moves into the realm of nostalgia.  Do you remember that neo-goth teenage angst?  It hardly seems possible that songs that were once your anthem of being moody and misunderstood have gradually turned into a bittersweet (and somewhat embarrassing) longing to feel anything that strong, that pure, again.

 

Music can move you, and not just physically.  Indeed, there is music that makes you need to dance, need to run, need to drive too fast on a deserted country road.  People make a career of testing which music makes you more efficient on the job, buy more at the supermarket, or relax at the dentist’s office.  Music can move us emotionally, even spiritually.  A song, even the first time that you hear it, can transport you.

 

Perhaps it doesn’t matter at all whether the sound of music is the best, or fastest, or most reliable, path to memories.   All of these points are generalities, and I cannot pretend to know why music affects the human body, or to speak for anyone else.  I can only say with certainty that music is a vital part of a full life in our home, in our family.  Music inspires us and serves as a constant companion (on the stereo right now?   Why, it’s Babel Gilberto’s “Jabuticaba”, of course).  We sleep to it, wake to it, drive, cook, and work to music.  It is in the background, in the foreground…music surrounds us as we create, read, knit, spin, and talk to each other.  

 

We select music according to mood and to task at hand.  With four people and varying tastes (and tolerance, on my part), we also negotiate.  I have a feeling that as the girls get older, these “discussions” will become more frequent.

 

Like most people that I know, Lucy and Lily have unique tastes in everything, including music.  The girls have made up little tunes to accompany their actions, almost from birth.  Ask Ms. Lu to “Do the Lucy”, or what “Willie up and do it, hmmmmm hmmm hmmmm hmmm hmmm” means.  Lily used to sing “This World is Not My Home” at the top of her lungs when walking into preschool (extra points if you know who sang that one).  Both of the Luscious Gracious Offspring learned much of their French with the aid of sweet, very repetitive, little songs.

 

There are those who hear and even “see” music in everything.  Often they are considered to be “born musicians,” and cannot help but to live a life of music.  Other artists feel the heart of a song and express it in painting, in sculpture, even, I suppose, in knitting.  For instance, Stephen channels the energy of live shows into his art, and nothing renews him like a good concert.  If I listen to the beauty in a Bob Dylan or Leonard Cohen song (I am nothing if not predictable), my mind starts to play around the words until my own poetry bubbles to the surface in phrases and stories inspired and fed by the genius of my favorite songwriters.

 

As a family, we decided to dedicate our first LGStitched to the gods and goddesses of song.  We hope that you enjoy this, the Music Episode.  Take some time to think of how music fits into your life.  Make some memories.   Put on your favorite record, or call it up on the computer.  If you are lucky, it’s a Belle and Sebastian number.  It doesn’t have to be, though.  I understand that some people like, even love, show tunes, live jazz, or “whatever’s on the radio”.  That last one makes me cringe, but there is beauty in diversity, wouldn’t you say?

 

Knit (and dance) on,

kikiluscious, june 06

Play Fair - Please, remember this basic kindness. These patterns, as well as the images and other artworks, are for non-commercial use only.  If you decide to make one of the Luscious Gracious projects, remember it is not legal to sell the item.  Our patterns may not be reprinted or copied in any way without our express permission.