I was listening to the radio this morning –

The radio?
Yes.
Not your iPod or computer?
No, the radio. An actual radio. With a knob
In the car?
No, at home.
They make them for the home?
Yes.
Do you have to pay for it?
No, it’s free.
What’s it like?
It’s like an iPod where someone else picks the music.
Weird.
No, it’s actually pretty cool, because they pick things that I wouldn’t pick on my own.
Don’t they sometimes pick stuff you hate?
Sure, but they also pick things I love, and most importantly, they pick things that I love, but that I would never have picked on my own.
Like what?
Well, that’s what I was trying to write about when you interrupted me.
Oh. Sorry.

Anyway, I turned the radio on this morning and the local classical station was playing Aaron Copland’s Red Pony. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to hear the entire piece, but I really enjoyed what I did catch. It has been a while since I listened to any Copland, but I found myself wondering why, as I listened on the radio this morning. He has such a distinctive style: extraordinary use of color and texture in his orchestration, simple and clear themes… His is a defining voice of American classical music, if not the defining voice. What is perhaps the most extraordinary about his music, though, is how instantly recognizable it is. Whether you are listening to one of his more popular pieces (Appalachian Spring, Rodeo, Billy the Kid) or one of his more obscure (Inscape, Orchestral Variations) you can always tell it is him. This is a trait of a great artist: a voice so clear and strong that it transcends whatever form or technique is used and emerges as a profound and distinctly unique voice amongst a chorus of voices.

That is what I was thinking over coffee this morning. But it’s not all I was thinking: I thought also of Steinbeck, whose novella was the origin of the movie and the inspiration of the music; of my time in the San Francisco Symphony and our recording of the Copland the Populist CD (one of my favorites of all the orchestral recordings I have done); of playing principal trumpet on that recording of Appalachian Spring with (Andrew McCandless playing an incredible second trumpet); of the fire and energy that Michael Tilson Thomas created in the orchestra, especially for that recording. All of this was on my mind because I just happened to turn the radio on and listen while having a cup of coffee. This is not music I would have ever chosen to put on myself this morning, not on any device. But there it was. On the radio. And the fact that it was there is what got me thinking, the fact that it existed without my having chosen it, that it was there for all to hear. I was a musical tourist, bumping shoulders with other musical tourists listening from their homes and cars all around South florida, reflecting on what was being broadcast, each of our thoughts and feelings overlapping here, contrasting there…

As much as I love my iPod, these thoughts and memories would have never flowed from it. Perhaps the radio is not as outdated as some might believe. I’m glad I turned it on.

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