Clear back in July I went to Jackson Hole and Yellowstone with my mom and her childhood friend. We stayed at
Lake Yellowstone Hotel and ate some scrumptious food (crab cake eggs benedict was AMAZING, but so was the lobster, grilled pear salad...
well, pretty much everything we ordered)
What really made the whole trip was the
Lake String Quartet,
especially when they played this:
To truly get what I mean about mood music, you need to listen to this piece while I try to explain the atmosphere.
First, sidenote. My brother Nathan had me read
Leo Tolstoy's "
The Kreutzer Sonata" while he was taking a Russian literature class in university so we could "discuss it further" since they didn't have a lot of time in class. We talked about the power of music and how it can affect a person to do things that they otherwise wouldn't do or act on repressive emotions because the music has brought them to the surface.
I've grown up with a lot of different types of music in my life, and I firmly believe that's true. Some may not fall victim to this, but in other cases, it can connect people-individuals or a whole room-together for vice or virtue. End of sidenote.
After eating an incredible meal of lobster tails, roasted mutton and delicious side veggies, I left Lake Yellowstone Hotel's
dining room with my mom and our friend Ron to discover the quartet in full swing. There were other hotel guests seated throughout the sunroom, so we pulled up a chair. They played some Hendrix (AWESOME!), Beethoven, and then Dvorak began.
They cleared the seating away and put the quartet in the middle
One fellow caught my attention early on. Nothing in particular stood out about him physically, though he was very attentive to all the songs while sitting behind the Quartet leaning against a wall. When Dvorak's
New World Symphony began to play, he closed his eyes and became fully enraptured with the piece. All around me hotel guests were melding into the music.
Suddenly, we were all connected as we let this piece touch us in our own way, and when it ended on its last note, the air was tangible with emotion. With the exception of those I traveled to Yellowstone with, I didn't know anyone else in that room. There were people from nearly all the states of America and other countries, from hikers to empty-nesters to families young and old. Yet, we all were connected because of the emotions the music drew out, however sappy that may sound.
At one point, the aforementioned gentleman wept quietly as he softly moved his hand to the music, eyes closed the whole time, almost like a wallflower conductor. I saw this and felt an overwhelming connection to this stranger because of the music, causing me to get a bit teary-eyed seeing the personal impact the music had on him. The connection was kind of like our spirits shook hands and introduced themselves to each other.
After the music ended with "
Happy Trails" we all sat there a few more minutes soaking in the beauty of an evening in Yellowstone National Park. I didn't talk to the fellow or anyone around me, but it was so neat to just sit and listen to the peace and contentment that went through the room after such good music.
As amazing as the trip was, it was the music (and admittedly, the good food) that I will remember the most. It's amazing what kind of power music has over me and triggers memories of all my other senses; when I hear this Dvorak piece, I remember the sights, sounds and smells of that day and it makes me happy.
What kind of power does music have over you?
