A Revolution in the Heart

"The masculinity of the piano. The sensuality of the cello. The singular beauty of the flute. How these three created this one beautiful body of music that was not only soulful but created a kind of revolution in the heart..."

It is a few days after the beautiful concert and still, the last remaining notes left by the virtuoso pianist, cellist and flutist linger in the spaces of my memory. What started out to be  simple invitation turned out to be something more. It became more of an experience that was meant to be felt by the entire body and mind in a time where music could simply be selected from an app and heard through a blue tooth speaker, where passion can be seemingly plastered on various social media sites with hashtags as long as what a carefully crafted caption could be. The word "witness" comes to mind. The word "presence", too. In a place only just beginning to rebirth the arts, these two are primordial as food and water. But take away this sad reality and all one has left is the music that beautiful night, the tears that were wept, the songs that were sung albeit softly for fear of violating decorum, the laughter and joy that emanated from the audience, an unmistakable energy, of palpable light vibrating throughout the concert hall after the encore from those who were fortunate enough to witness the event. There's that word again. What is it to really witness? I remember lines from a film years ago that it is to make sure your life does not go unnoticed. Every part of it, the good, the bad, the mundane, all of the time everyday. Perhaps, those lines spoke more about marriage. But really, isn't all of life a commitment to something? A vow to be true to another, a promise to follow through a calling of some kind?

Food for the famished soul, water for the parched mind, I wrote.  As the three performing artists, Dingdong Fiel, Kyongmin Nam and Nico Dioneda in their own magnanimous right walked into the stage, without words but with their entire bodies, they said, "This is who we are. This is our spirit. And this is what we shall give to you tonight." If that isn't presence, then I do not know what is. If that isn't food and water for the famished soul and parched mind, then I do not know what is. Presence, this word as well. There can be no witnessing without a willful, everyday act of being fully grounded in the present moment. There can be no significant noticing of the good, the bad, the mundane, all of the time everyday.  I do not know a great many things but I do know one thing--These three amazing performing artists called composer, conductor, virtuoso pianist, vocalist, cellist and flutist, by any other name or by the  titles they have dutifully earned are living and breathing definitions of a witnessing to life, a commitment to their passion in music, a promise to answer and a  devotion to a calling.

"The masculinity of the piano. The sensuality of the cello. The singular beauty of the flute. How these three created this one beautiful body of music that was not only soulful but created a kind of revolution in the heart..." These words came out of my mind even before I had begun to write this piece. Filled with starts and stops, not really full sentences at all. Perhaps this is what happens when one experiences something so grand, there are no words adequate enough to create a sentence to fully define it. Perhaps the following sentences though are enough to describe this revolution in the heart:

I wept. My heart soared. My mind quenched. My soul filled. My whole being restored. 

Group photo with fellow Katig Writers Jessa Tan and Camille Tan-Bagalay with the three performing Artists, Dingdong Fiel, Kyongmin Nam and Nico Dioneda.

Music to the Heart
A Chamber Concert
Featuring Performing Artists: Dingdong Fiel, Kyongmin Nam and Nico Dioneda
Ormoc Villa Hotel
February 16, 2019