Back in around 2009 when I was working in La Molina, I had the joy of taking an hour long combi ride every day. The route went down Javier Prado, and right past Jockey Plaza. I can’t remember the details of why I was returning late one evening, but it was right when Andrea Bocelli was giving a concert at Jockey.
I remember sitting in that rusty old combi on a threadbare seat that was dirty with dust from the road and the constant influx of passengers. I was literally miles away from the concert, but it was so loud, that you could hear it rattling in through the windows the combi.
Now, I suppose not everyone knows Andrea Bocelli, and I’m not the biggest fan of opera myself. Most people know who Luciano Pavarotti is, but for my particular taste, there’s nothing in Pavarotti’s singing that makes me stop in my tracks. Bocelli does have that effect on me, however, and I remember thinking what a strange juxtaposition of experiences I was having in that dirty combi. There was the discomfort and general ill repair of the little bus, but it was filled with the absolutely stunning and beautiful live music of Andrea Bocelli.
I was tempted to jump out of the combi and go over to the concert area. Not to go in, just to stand outside and listen because you could hear it just fine. But I didn’t, and I kind of regret not doing so.
Fast forward to June of 2018 when I was flying with my family from Panama to Lima on a Copa airlines flight. The film for the journey was ‘The Music of Silence’ which is a biographical film about Bocelli starting essentially from his birth. Even through the terrible little complimentary audio phones that the airline gives you, the sound of the singing was fantastic. The film, featuring a quirky supporting performance by Antonio Banderas, isn’t particularly memorable, but it was a good enough piece of entertainment to keep you occupied throughout the flight.
What struck me as funny about ‘The Music of Silence’ was a reoccurring theme that you hear from virtually every author, writer, poet, or artist that has ever lived. In the film, Bocelli goes around and sings for various opera masters, these are critics and teachers and respected figures who have a reputation as being very knowledgable about the craft. Without fail, they all tell Bocelli that he doesn’t have a good enough voice to sing opera, and they go one to say things like his voice is actually painful and a whole bunch of other nonsense.
I’ve discussed this kind of thing before on my page, the general arrogance of the arts establishment, and I find it’s one of those topics of conversation that gets instantly dismissed when you bring it up. It is a great detriment to our cultural development as a species that our supposedly knowledgeable critics seem to be utterly incapable of recognizing quality and encouraging it when it emerges. This is the rule rather than the exception.
I remember a funny study that was done many years ago, some college kids wanted to see how capable people were of comprehending quality. So, they got the world’s greatest violin player, and had him dress in rags and sit in a subway tunnel in New York, and filmed it. For the most part, everybody just walked by, not even acknowledging the existence of what was supposed to be the greatest musician of his age. Every now and then, a couple people recognized the guy and did stop, slack-jawed in awe. But this was not a recognition of the music, but of the person. But there was a very small group of people, no more than two or three, who, without knowing who the player was, stopped and stared and would not leave the spot until the music had finished.
So, for those of you who are creatives out there, it’s always important to remember things like this. The literary community dismissed Shakespeare’s sonnets as inferior for two hundred years. Isaac Newton used to give lectures to empty halls, because nobody thought he had anything worthwhile to say. The world is full of ignorant critics, and the reality is, the population of people that can truly appreciate beauty is very small.
Perhaps, it will be worthwhile the next time you hear some ambient acoustic guitar, to pause and give the song more than a casual listen. I can’t guarantee that the music will be the same quality as Andrea Bocelli, but in all honesty, it seems you’re just as likely to discover greatness in the subway as in a symphonic hall.
