The Lord Of The Dance

Joseph Campbell

Once upon a time, Bill Moyers interviewed Joseph Campbell for a wonderful series, The Power Of Myth, which aired on PBS.

I remember being very stirred up by many of Mr. Campbell’s observations.

One of them was the idea that plants grow back — sometimes more vibrantly — after being pruned/cut down and how this biological event might relate to the idea of a g-d such as Jesus, who was killed yet rose from the dead.

I think this concept stuck with me because of a song, “The Lord of the Dance,” which I first learned from a friend of my older sister when we were singing in my grandmother’s kitchen.

I had always assumed that “The Lord Of The Dance” was a traditional folk song, but a fellow blogger recently told me that the words were written by an English songwriter, Sydney Carter.

According to Wikipedia, Mr. Carter was inspired partly by Jesus, but also partly by a statue of the Hindu God Shiva as Nataraja which sat on his desk.

Pruning… (Image by Ray_Shrewsberry from Pixabay)

He later stated, “I did not think the churches would like [“The Lord Of The Dance”] at all. I thought many people would find it pretty far flown, probably heretical and anyway dubiously Christian. But in fact people did sing it and, unknown to me, it touched a chord … Anyway, it’s the sort of Christianity I believe in.”

Many years ago I recorded a version of “The Lord Of The Dance + Simple Gifts” with help from Jere Faison (producer), Patty Barkas (back up vocals), Jonathan Keezing (guitar), and Robert M. (bass).

With Easter on the horizon, I thought this might be an appropriate time to share it.

Just click the player at the beginning of this post.

May we all be able to rise up again after we have been knocked down by one of life’s many challenges.

Another deep breath in.

Sydney Carter

And deep breath out.

I will close with more thoughts from Sydney Carter (and you can click here to read a simple obituary if you are curious to learn more about his life…)

“I see Christ as the incarnation of the piper who is calling us. He dances that shape and pattern which is at the heart of our reality. By Christ I mean not only Jesus; in other times and places, other planets, there may be other Lords of the Dance. But Jesus is the one I know of first and best. I sing of the dancing pattern in the life and words of Jesus.

Whether Jesus ever leaped in Galilee to the rhythm of a pipe or drum I do not know. We are told that David danced (and as an act of worship too), so it is not impossible. The fact that many Christians have regarded dancing as a bit ungodly (in a church, at any rate) does not mean that Jesus did.

The Shakers didn’t. This sect flourished in the United States in the nineteenth century, but the first Shakers came from Manchester in England, where they were sometimes called the “Shaking Quakers.”

They hived off to America in 1774, under the leadership of Mother Anne and established celibate communities – men at one end, women at the other; though they met for work and worship.

Image by Fernando Albert from Pixabay

Dancing, for them, was a spiritual activity. They also made furniture of a functional, lyrical simplicity. Even the cloaks and bonnets that the women wore were distinctly stylish, in a sober and forbidding way.

Their hymns were odd, but sometimes of great beauty: from one of these (Simple Gifts) I adapted this melody. Sometimes, for a change I sing the whole song in the present tense. ‘I dance in the morning when the world is begun…’. It’s worth a try.”

One more deep breath in.

And deep breath out.

I’m A Baby Monkey

Image by Vantha So

One of the things I love most about teaching Music Together is the concept that each person absorbs and processes music in their own way.

Some children — and some adults, too — like to sit still while they soak up the sights and sounds swirling around them.

Others like to move their bodies — swaying, clapping, tapping their toes, nodding their heads, or even jumping up to dance in the center of the circle.

Still others prefer to wander around the room, seemingly oblivious to the musical activity unfolding all around them.

And yet these same children will often start singing their own versions of the songs as soon as they leave class…

Image by Petr Ganaj from Pixabay

I love the respect for different learning styles that is baked into the Music Together pedagogy.

As long as no one is hurting themselves or distracting the rest of the class, whatever she or he wants to do in class is OK.

At times this can make for a somewhat chaotic classroom experience.

But if the teacher and a majority of the adults are able to keep participating — singing, moving, chanting, drumming, dancing, marching, and so forth — the class flows on.

Image by Dharamveer Singh from Pixabay

The grown ups copy the teacher.

The children copy their accompanying grown up, the teacher, the other grown ups, and the other children.

And I am always looking for movements and ideas from the children and grownups in the class which I can mirror, highlight, and somehow incorporate into the flow of my lesson plan.

It can become a very rich — and fun — environment of “monkey see, monkey do” feedback loops.

I wrote the song at the top of this page, “I’m A Baby Monkey,” before I became a Music Together teacher.

Image by Erik Karits from Pixabay

Serendipitous foreshadowing?

I have not officially released it to the world…

But many families have enjoyed it over the years via an email copy.

Thank you for reading and listening to this blog post.

Thank you to Apple for creating their laptop computers and their GarageBand program.

Thank you to the terrific photographers at Pixabay.

Image by Myo Min Kyaw from Pixabay

Thank you to the wonderful monkeys in these photos.

And thank you to all of the families who have chosen to make music together with me over the years!

I am very grateful.

Deep breath in.

Deep breath out.

Subversive Lyrics

 As some of you may know, I recently returned from a sweet trip to visit friends in Shanghai.

Heading out on the tricycle…

They live in a row house on an alley — many of which are being torn down in order to build apartment/condo skyscrapers.

There was lots of eating, biking, exploring the city and making music.

Although there are MANY motorbikes, cars and trucks in Shanghai — as well as a beautiful and enormous new subway system — lots of people still ride bikes.

My friends had several black single-speed bikes and also built a big trike with a yellow rear bed for transporting things and people around town.

There were items for sale everywhere — including fresh fruits and vegetables; live turtles, frogs and fish; and much, much, much, much more.

One of my friends is a wonderful composer, jazz pianist, and teacher.

My friend’s mother checks out a street vendor’s wares…

He and his family have been living in Shanghai for seven years, and a couple of years ago he started teaching music in the school his younger child attends.

I was able to visit some of his classes and was happy to see — and hear — how much his students love to sing.

We even taught them a song that my friend and I had written together — back when he lived with his Yamaha grand piano in a studio apartment above an ice cream store in Allston, MA — called “Let’s Go To The River.”

They learned it quickly and sang it with great gusto.

I was delighted.

A few days after I returned home to Boston, when it looked like my friend’s primary vocal ensemble might be participating in a VIP concert for the mayor of Shanghai, two of China’s top conductors came to hear my friend’s choir sing.

Me walking near the Bund, I think…

They listened to three pop/rock/show tunes, responded warmly, and asked, “What else do you have?”

My friend projected the lyrics for “Let’s Go to The River” up on a screen at the front of his classroom, and his choir performed a rousing version for them.

After class, the conductors stayed to talk about his choir participating in the concert. One of the maestros tactfully mentioned the importance of choosing songs with lyrics that would be apolitical. He suggested “What a Wonderful World,” my friend suggested “Singing in the Rain,” and they decided that a song in Chinese would be great, too.

The maestro again reinforced the necessity of choosing lyrics with an eye to political sensitivity.

My friend didn’t think too much about the maestro’s remarks until after they had left — and he went back into his classroom and saw my lyrics still up on the screen.

Lots of people ride double like this on their bike…

The two conductors had had time to study the message of “Let’s Go to the River,” and my friend realized that it may have made them nervous that he was teaching such ‘subversive’ messages to primary school students — and might even want to perform such a message at a public event.

I have typed the lyrics at the end of this blog post.

Perhaps they are a bit subversive for our ever-more-wired-and-plugged-in-and-distracted culture in the United Stated of America, too!

What do YOU think?

Thank you to my friends for flying me to Shanghai not once but twice during their years there.

Thank you to Steve for giving me a melody many years ago to which I set these lyrics.

Thank you to Kate for her lovely graphic design for the CD — BLAME THOS GERSHWINS — of Steve’s songs which we recorded a few years ago.

And thank YOU for reading (or re-reading) this blog post!

You are welcome to click here to listen to “Let’s Go to The River” on your favorite streaming platform.

Let’s Go To The River

What a day! Let’s go to the river — do something we never have the time to do.

We could say today’s a vacation — a small invitation to wander away.

Leave your phone, your fax, and your datebook…

Yeah, even that great book you never seem to read.

Spread your wings and slide out a window — wherever the wind blows, catch a ride.

Can we be without an agenda? Nothing to remember, deliver, or to do.

It’s okay!

The pavement is humming, and there’s different drumming all along the way.

Playing in a public garden…

Right away our energy’s rising; no analyzing what we need to do.

We’re on our way to whatever may happen — a tisket, a tasket — and it doesn’t have to rhyme.

Pick up a papaya, instead of a sixpack.

Dance among the plants.

Just decide; today’s an adventure — zip zap bodilee doh doo day.

Break a routine,

Go fly a kite,

Take a deep breath,

And jump in a lake!