Can channels of inspiration behind the different interests we develop come from the same source?
After delivering my final talk at the London Business School, I decided that I needed a break. I accompanied a fellow speaker out of campus to the Baker Street tube station, and was then on my way down to Regent?s Park. I didn?t have to explore much to place the Royal Academy of Music. I entered and collected a printed schedule-book at the reception. I was soon on my way upstairs to the Flute Master-class.
A decade?s formal training in Indian classical (vocal) music equipped me with not only the adequate understanding to appreciate (and try out) various other musical art forms, but also the skill-set required to compose. However, given my limited exposure to Western classical music, a live rendition was something new. With my brain-wires intertwined with curiosity and thrill, an interaction with Emily Beynon, the chief instructor of the Master-class, was a total delight. Before I could share my concern over making a suitable audience member, she just smiled and said ?music has no language? (as if she had read my mind) ? the next thing? I was seated in the front row, attending.
Fortunately, the very opening rendition in that Master-class eased my apprehension, since Ganne?s Andante et Scherzo was not new to me. With my mind now in comfort, it was easy to see how full of life Emily is, as it was immediately reflected in the excitement with which she suggested various nuances to the performers. I stayed back till the end and the entire experience can be summed up by the opening words of the Psalm ?Heaven came down and glory filled my soul ??
The human mind has a natural tendency to look for identifiable patterns or regularities. To the statistician, it may be in the normal curve; to the physicist, this may be in star life-cycles; to the literature person, it may be in the rhyme in poetry; to the musician, it could be simply in the beats. If you don?t agree, ask yourself if you?ve ever looked up to the clouds and tried comparing their shapes to any daily observable ? or have even looked for a face on the moon (how do you think the constellations got their names?). In fact, if you ask Kaushik Basu, it is primarily the love for these patterns that accounts for most of the research even in Economics. Now, when I say that Mathematics is my first love, I will have to forgive the reader who won?t comprehend the beauty of patterns that appeal to me the most. This is because, in its everyday sense, beauty could be aesthetic, poetic or even euphonic, to (say) a literature person ? but could it really be hyperbolic, parabolic or elliptic? Cutting the long story short, I often look for mathematical beauty too in music.
Coming back to our story, on my way out of the hall, I heard a lady practising on the piano. I momentarily stopped by to listen to her and was immediately invited in when she noticed. Julia Hamos from the Royal Academy resumed her playing. Sonorous beauty aside, there was also a certain visual appeal to how her artistic fingers flirted with the keys of that Steinway Grand on Bach?s Concerto in D minor ? much like how Ashton?s Harmonograph explains the visual appeal of note-pairs pleasant to the ear. It will be unwise of me to mention the relevance of Euler?s Tentamen Novae Theoriae Musicae here, at the cost of losing audience, for reasons already mentioned.
Julia traces back her interest in music to her very first memories of dancing around the house to Bach?s Goldberg variations (the epic work she intends to master one day), and Mozart symphonies as a kid. Her parents put her for piano lessons when she was just three, hoping that she would eventually be good at maths. With a chuckle, she adds, ?Of course, they didn?t know I?d like piano much better than maths.? She received what she recalls now as one of the greatest compliments ever at a nursing home where she played an early Beethoven Sonata?one filled with exuberance. A resident who couldn?t see ?felt every bounce go through her bones.? Backed with such good memories, at 10, she decided that she wanted to be a pianist by profession, and began going to conservatories at Juilliard and finally at the Royal Academy. Two years later, she played at the Weill Hall (Carnegie Hall, NYC), where she had visualised herself playing previously, inspired by many musicians who performed there.
It is really interesting how our experiences largely shape the decisions we make. My love for mathematics can be traced back to the first encouraging words I had received from my eighth grade teacher, Ms Shubha Valsalan. Experimenting with even Indian classical music led me to the mathematical rules behind different ragas. For instance, treat the Dhaiwat of raga Durga as Gandhaar, and you get the notes of raga Bhupali; or treat the Dhaiwat of raga Bhupali as Madhyam, and you get the notes of raga Malkauns. Mathematically, these are simple cases of scale-change in frequency, or that of origin-shift in its logarithm. I?m fascinated by how Pythagoras, on walking by a blacksmith?s shop, figured out the secrets of producing harmony. Clearly, to me, it is maths before music. The inspiration I found in captivating speakers like Ms N Williams, our school (then) vice-principal, or Ms Alka Kacker, who taught Public Finance (we used to fight for the front-row seats for the latter) in my undergraduate-days, explains why I have never missed a chance to address large audiences so far. Speaking of teachers, Julia will be sure to bring up the names of Christina Kiss and Christopher Elton when she says ?teachers can harness your strengths, make you excited and motivated to fix what can sound better, guide you to make your personal, but informed, musical decisions, and ultimately make you aware of your confidence as a performer with a unique way of communicating on stage.?
Despite the key difference in how Julia and I place music and maths in our preferences, we do have similar sources of inspiration. We agree that ?Bach is one of the most difficult composers to play convincingly.? When I was on my way out (carrying the Academy T-shirt), a voice from behind (at the reception) enquired where I was heading, and if I?ll ever come back again ? I turned around and responded ?Off to Chopin ? Bach soon!?
The author is a research scholar (PhD Economics) at the Indian Statistical Institute, New Delhi. He is also member, Scottish Economic Society; committee member, American Statistical Association; and member, Royal Economic Society of England. Views are personal