Music ~ The Universal Language

¿Habla usted español?  Parlez-vous français?  Sprechen Sie deutsch?  Parli italiano?

Huh?  Has Heidi Goldman's  tattletalesfromabroad.blogspot.com become a multi-lingual blog?  Not to worry.  You may not speak a foreign language, but you already understand one:  Music.  The universal language.

It may sound cliché to say that music is the universal language, but I discovered first- hand how true that phrase is. When I lived in Segovia, Spain, I went through piano withdrawal by week two.  I missed playing the piano, expressing my emotions musically and just playing for the sheer joy of making music.

One evening, I stumbled upon an old tavern and as I made my way downstairs, I heard a fabulous band playing everything from Bob Dylan to Flamenco music.  Oh, how my ears perked up.  When the musicians took a break, I snuck over to the piano and began playing.  Before I knew it, they came racing back and accompanied me.  When the bar finally closed at four AM, Fernando, the lead guitarist, taught me how to play Flamenco on the piano.  He played the rhythms and chords on the guitar and I imitated him on the piano until he was satisfied.  A mini lesson in Spain.  What an unexpected treat.

Have you ever noticed musicians giving each other the look at a concert? The band members know something magical and sometimes mischievous is about to happen.  The musician may suddenly change keys, just to throw off the others, or will play a musical quote, taking a phrase or two from a well know piece of music and including it in h/her improvisation.  It can be from a Chopin Nocturne or from something silly like, The Flintstones, bringing nods and laughter from a knowing audience and the musicians themselves.

The next evening, Fernando took center stage and winked at the pianist and gave the look to the others. 

The band began playing intense gypsy music when suddenly they incorporated  The Pink Panther theme into their number.  The audience roared with laughter, clapping wildly. It was one of those moments when words are meaningless and music speaks volumes.

After the set, their pianist introduced himself and invited me to his piano store during the siesta the next day.  Being a world-class insomniac, I can’t nap and welcomed the opportunity to play while Spain was slumbering.  I didn’t have any music, but began playing an old favorite Sonatina by Kuhlau…when suddenly I was being accompanied by a stranger, a Spaniard who knew the same piece, also by memory.  There we were.  Different cultures.  Different languages…but the music joined us together.  When we finished, we both looked at each other knowingly and smiled a smile that broke the language barrier.  It resonated in the store, just like the Sonatina.