A Wonderous Thing Appears

by Jane Tawel

April 4, 2025

L.A. Phil at Disney Hall with Gustav Dudamel and John Williams and Yo Yo Ma

And I read and I read and I mourn and mourn and I worry and angst and I get angry and make my small little fights with small little metaphoric fists raised and keep trying to provide my small little acts of kindness and cheers for those who fill bigger shoes than I and are trying to do something. And probably like many today, I fight against the tide of absolute depression and hopelessness. And THEN…. a Wonderous Thing does appear. Last Night, Raoul Tawel and I were privileged (and I do mean unbelievably that I was a person of undeserved privilege) to hear a concert at the exquisitely designed LA Disney Hall, where even we peons in the rafters have the most incredible experience of a perfectly designed architectural masterpiece and have a place in the crowd where the sound of music is gloriously imbibed. Gustav Dudamel conducting is always a treat but last night was a special treat we gave ourselves. In one glorious night of music — American music! — by the prolific genius John Williams, who was THERE! all 93 years and probably 93 pounds of him. We were there, big bucks spent for us, even beyond the big bucks we spend for season tickets to the LA Phil, to hear an artist we have long loved and been in awe of — yes! — Yo Yo Ma! Yowza! That guy can play a cello! 😊 So you see, at this point words are failing me and I can not describe an experience that is one of those times that the Wonder, the Ineffable, the Divine merges with the Human Spirit and the Creativity of great Artists merges with the Creator within them and all around us. And again, it came to me as it often does in times like last night, that these are the people and the experiences that truly make me believe that there is a God and that a God Who can create human beings like Yo Yo Ma, and John Williams, and Frank Gehry, and every single one of those horn blowers, and drum bangers, and string players who make up the spiritual community (yes spiritual whether they know it or not) of the L.A. Phil orchestra — it came to me again that A God who can create those almost unearthly and yet human creators must want to be with those people forever somewhere, somehow in what we might imagine to be that New Heaven and New Earth kinda “place” and “time” where the joy and life of Creation and Creativity go on and on and on. Raoul said, “Yeah, but in your worldview here, what does that mean about people like you and me?” I said, “Well, all I can hope is that whatever True Love we little folks put into this world will carry over into the next. I can only hope that Love Remains and so I will just love, and love more.”

Ah, last night was a taste of heaven — no a taste of True Earth, as it was meant to Be, as it can Be. Can you imagine a world where each day, rather than wake up to read the news, we wake up to see Van Gogh paint and Frank Gehry design: where the air is filled not with hate or fear or bombs or cries, but the music of John Williams or the music of Bruce Springsteen; and where instead of producing guns and pollution, we are producing cellos and piccolos and geraniums and rice. We can not turn our eyes away from the fight we must fight today, but we can turn our ears towards the music of the spheres, and our hearts toward that which is full of wonder in the human spirit. I am not saying this well — read some good poetry or a good book today to read people who say this better than I — but I hope you will find your way forward today with some small experience of Wonder, and some Care for Your Soul (Thomas Moore) and some little bit of Hope and a whole, whole lot of Love. Walk in Beauty. Baby steps maybe, scraped knees and bent head maybe, gimpy leg and aching heart maybe, but Walk in Beauty. If you want to find God anywhere, you can be sure if it’s anywhere on this planet, She also will be walking there.

© Jane Tawel, 2025

The Rainbow Connection

green grass field under white clouds and rainbow
https://unsplash.com/photos/JzCf5Y3XmFU

from Jane Tawel, June 2021

Please do listen to Kermit do it much better, but this June, I wanted to add my old, longing voice to voices for hope and for all the “lovers and the dreamers” of the world, and in support of the many hues that connect some of us who will not stop believing in the power of our Rainbow Connection. 🌈

(c) Jane Tawel June 2021

“Rainbow Connection” composed by Paul Williams and Kenneth Ascher, 1979

Loving With All My Art

Loving With All My Art

by Jane Tawel

October 20, 2019

 

What is on my mind, my social media asked me?   ART!   But not just my mind, because real art is about heart. And heart, or what some call “soul”, is that deep, deep place in our species that elevates us beyond the mere animal.

 

I am a privileged person who has enough money and time to occasionally experience real, honest to-goodness live art. Live art is different than “static” art — both are worth spending a lot more time and a lot more money on than most of us do. Both are infinitely valuable to a life well-lived and a development of the best of human character; much more valuable than all the stuff many of us currently spend our most precious possessions on; that is our money/ savings and our time.

 

Just a quick refresher course for those of you living locally in the Los Angeles region or near other big cities in America — almost every museum has free days or nights. Art has become expensive because we no longer value it as a necessary component of any decent, long-range thinking society. Tragically, America does not value and support the arts, whether produced by current living artists or by dead famous ones; not in the school systems nor in the mushy, weak soups (and soaps) served up by reality TV or competitive showings of anesthetizing couch potato entrees.  So it’s up to us, I fear. Or rather, I don’t “fear”, but I exhort and encourage you to step up and seize the opportunity to experience Art.

 

I love going to see “static” art — museums, if you will. (If you happen to be in Los Angeles,  The Getty is always free and currently has an exhibit on Manet).  However, seeing art performed in the moment, something that will never be repeated in exactly the same way, is an experience that can change you from the inside, out and from the outside, in. If you at all have any money you can spare, please, please, please go to live art events. If you are in Southern California, you really must visit, if possible, the two live art venues that my hubby and I went to this week.

 

You absolutely must go see real, gut-wrenching, “make you think for weeks”, awesomely produced and phenomenally acted live theatre — somewhere, somehow. Ask around, find it and get off that couch and go. Raoul and I are privileged to live nearby a great theatre in Pasadena called “A Noise Within”. This is adult-sized theatre plays, not for Disney-kids, (but ironically, not Disney outrageous prices, either). This is one of the few remaining repertory companies left standing in America. Their current production of Sam Shepherd’s “Buried Child” is outstanding. Raoul and I were just blown away and the actors were so exhausted at the end of the performance from living the intensity of their characters they could hardly stand up for the curtain call. If you haven’t used your little grey cells in a while; go see a play that is written by a playwright with guts and ideas and thematic deepness and acted by actors who are what we call “method” actors, who “live the part” right in front of your very eyes. If you haven’t seen a play worth talking about for days after, or actors who have honed their craft to a fine point, go see something like, “Buried Child”. I highly recommend any play that was not first a movie and was written before tickets cost $600.00 a pop.

 

The second thing you absolutely must do is go to a concert where real artists play music. I love all genres of music and enjoy going to see super riffing guitarists and stick-throwing drummers from the viewpoint of a mosh pit, to nightclub-style singers at a piano bar, to country western twang-ers in an open air park. BUT — there is nothing that compares to seeing a live orchestra play. If you have a more limited budget that means you can’t make it to a big-city orchestra event, there are still struggling but hopeful orchestras all over the world playing out their hearts and souls. We found a wonderful and amazing opportunity near us, in Pasadena at a lovely, small hall called the Ambassador Auditorium, the home of “The Pasadena Symphony”. It is a much more affordable opportunity than Disney Hall (which we sometimes splurge on), a great venue without a single bad seat, and the home to an orchestra with a group of  artists, and special guest artists that are beyond talented. Seeing an orchestra perform, will leave you feeling that humans are truly capable of great feats and godlike mastery.

Last night, I saw not only the always excellent symphony members but a violinist named Tessa Lark, that, I could not tear my eyes away from as she played. It is hard to describe, but when Ms. Lark plays, it is as if the violin is merely feeding her –feeding from the body of her “fiddle” and from the strings and bow a sort of elixir and she is imbibing the notes and then somehow impossible music is being emitted not from the instrument but from her body. She is absolutely mesmerizing but she is completely oblivious to her “show”; rather she is madly in love with the unseen lover that is the music.

But you don’t feel like a voyeur; no, in the audience, I felt as if I were witnessing an event on a different planet; that I was observing with delight a different species of human beings, beings who are similar to what I am as a human, but so much more whole, so beautiful, so pure and innocent, and beyond lovely. It is glorious to witness such beings who are capable of such greatness. It is a greatness at once incredible and unbelievable but also comforting and encouraging. It is comforting and joyous because Ms. Lark and her fellow players are giving something to those who participate with their presence in the audience; they are giving us a gift. The gift is given with joy and the knowledge that their playing is only complete when there are live people in the audience sharing in the gift that the music gives them. It is a community of musical artists and audience and the audience also gets to give gifts; the gift of our hearts. Tessa Lark is the sort of unique soloist, who takes, not just the audience, but the whole orchestra with her, all the players seem elevated to a group of beings who are in love with the music and in love with themselves and each other and with me and my neighbors in the audience and in love with life.

A live orchestra is about art as an act of sacrificial love. And that love is for something Big! and Important! and Phenomenally difficult! and Outstandingly magical! With Capitals and exclamation points!   But it is also about us. Little old us, sitting in the audience are loved through the performance too. And love like that is worth a lot.

 

I gush, I rave — but really…. please, please, please go see artists perform. If all you can afford is a dollar for your local busker, start there, but start valuing art. More importantly though, is to start valuing yourself enough to support and experience live art.

 

Find something being performed that makes you feel … well…. better. Just Better. Bigger, and yet, delightfully, Smaller. Braver. Truer. Smarter, and yet, More Innocent. Hopeful. Thoughtful. Cheerful. Energized. Awed, and yet, Safe and Warmed.

 

Most importantly –see other people doing amazing things. Doing God-like things right in front of your very eyes and ears, things like gods do. Creation. And if you are like I am, you will say to yourself: “God, if possible, could I use my first 5,000 years in Eternity, taking violin lessons from Tessa Lark?”

 

And then in your own small way, you will boldly and joyfully love the world, and your neighbors, and your family, and yourself — with all your Art.

 

Lark_Violin_1-219x300

Tessa Lark