Musical legacy

Seattle is home to one of the world's finest private collections of classical violins, violas and cellos, including six violins and one cello crafted by Stradivari in the early 1700's. The collector, David Fulton, has trimmed his collection down in recent years to the fifteen instruments he likes best, including a violin built by Guarnerius del Gesù, the "Lord Wilton," valued at $10 million.

Who knew? I certainly didn't until last night, when I viewed a documentary ("Homage") that Fulton arranged to have filmed on the stage of Redmond's Overlake School, showing off each instrument, both visually and audibly. In the film, violinist James Ehnes chooses and plays a short piece that will best display the characteristics and capabilities of each violin and viola. Sound and cinematography are both outstanding.

Both Fulton and Ehnes were present at last night's showing of the documentary -- on the UW campus -- to subscribers of the Seattle Chamber Music Society. Both offered introductory remarks and took questions following the film. Fulton explained his purpose in making the documentary as a desire to preserve for posterity the sound of each instrument as it plays in 2008. He noted that the sound of a string instrument gradually changes over time, as it ages and its physical condition changes. Musicians today would love to know what these famous violins and violas sounded like a century ago, when they were already about 200 years old.

The music was dazzling. But Ehnes's commentary, before he played each number, drove home to me how superficial my own appreciation of music remains. Ehnes observed how each instrument's musical "color," tonal volume, and relative musical flexibility or rigidity made it most appropriate for the chosen piece. I was fully conscious that he could have played the same violin number on each of the violins, one after the other, and I would have been unable to perceive the difference.

Appreciation of any composer, any performer, any musical instrument increases radically with one's study and experience. Enjoying a Schubert piano sonata as background music on the radio is pleasant, but offers a far less rich experience than listening to it with a score in hand, and then hearing it performed by different pianists. And such appreciation as an informed listener is a far less rich experience than having mastered the sonata on one's own piano, which in turn is less rewarding than having subjected one's own playing to the critique of an experienced teacher. I suppose that a defining characteristic of a piece of "classical" music is that you could study it indefinitely and always find new aspects to appreciate.

With classical music, the more you put into it, the more you get out of it. The same is true with the appreciation of wine -- a dinner beverage that I tend to swill down without reflection, intent on my conversation with other more discerning guests who are themselves savoring the nuances of the particular vintage. Fine dining offers the same opportunity, as do the visual arts. And as does, to some degree, any other pursuit whose appreciation increases with one's knowledge and experience. I suppose that I do appreciate reading a well reasoned and well written legal brief more than would many attorneys. Comparing legal work with classical music may startle, but such greater appreciation, if it exists, would result from the time I have invested in writing such briefs myself.

Our age encourages a superficial enjoyment of many pursuits, and many pursuits offer much enjoyment even on a superficial level. But, as a viewing of Homage suggests, it would be a shame to go through life without finding at least one pursuit worthy of deeper study, resulting in the ability to enjoy the work of others from many angles, and on multiple layers -- that is, to appreciate fully the purpose and intent of the artist or artisan who himself has created the work.