Hey y’all,
Happy New Year!
How did your holidays feel? Did they feel restful even amidst the hubbub? I pray so. Towards that end, I celebrate that Dick Durbin, one of my senators, has changed his position on Gaza and is now in favor of a ceasefire. (He is the first senator to do so). Keep calling and writing your congresspeople! Notes of rest need to come to the Middle East. (As an aside, I’m thankful to all of the Jewish folk in my life who help me steer clear of semitism while fighting for a Free Palestine.)
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God has put me in various situations recently where I’ve been thinking about music and accessibility. For one, my last post of 2023 was a meditation on music from my friend Rachel who is deaf. You can read her incredible take on it here.
On the heels of her post, I just so happened to be in conversation with an incredible visual artist, Bruce Herman, who is 70 years old and has lost virtually all of his hearing. (Thankfully he can still hear some with strong hearing aids.) Though he grieves his loss deeply - he loves music especially - he still rejoices in God. He believed God was disciplining or chastening him through this, and that God’s goodness is not contingent on his able-bodiedness.
My immediate reaction to Bruce was that this was the sound of freedom. He was holding the gifts of God loosely enough such that God remains the main gift. All that flows from God, including his hearing, only augments that relationship; it does not define it. I am thankful for this reminder at the top of the year, as my music schedule unfolds. (See below.) I will play as hard as I can from the freedom that this is for God, not to make me God. I pray that if all of my music-making abilities were taken away from me tomorrow, I could still praise God through the tears.
If you haven’t seen Sound of Metal yet, I strongly recommend it. It is an extraordinary film about a young drummer (Riz Ahmed) who loses his hearing due to the loudness of his playing. (For all musicians reading this, protect those ears onstage! The sound systems are only getting louder.)
Most of the movie details his journey through grief. On one level, the movie is about his relationship to ableism: How can he function in the world without his ability to play? But on a deeper level, the film is an examination of his identity. Who is he if not a drummer? I won’t ruin the end for you, but it presents a beautiful invitation to reimagine listening.
This movie moves me because of how core music is to me and to others. Most professional musicians I know feel music viscerally. It’s not just that music is a nice pick-me-up for ourselves or others. It’s also not just that we can make money doing it. (The industry is too volatile for that reason to win out anyway, ha.) No, the sound goes way deeper, down to our existential depths. We dream about music. Many cannot go a day without listening to or playing music. We breathe the music we play.
But Rachel in her writing, Bruce in our conversation, and the movie in its arc, remind me that music cannot be what I worship, but rather what I use to worship. God forbid, but my hearing might leave me one day, or I might lose my ability to play piano. (One of my favorite pianists, Keith Jarrett, suffered two strokes in the last few years and will never play publicly again. He is old but still has a lot of life left in him. What a shift.)
To be sure, if that were to happen, life would be very difficult, and I would grieve immensely for the rest of my days. But if God is the reason I was playing, I hope that I can still hear God with my body (a line from Rachel’s piece) and that I can play the new kind of music I’m supposed to play in that season. Approaching music in that way gives me rest.
As you move into this new year, I pray that you can hold your loves loosely enough to not be devastated beyond hope should you lose them, yet closely enough to cherish the good gifts God has given you for the precious days we have here together. May we not confuse the gift with the giver.
here’s to holy freedom in 2024,
Julian
What’s Next
Jan 5 Marques Carroll Quintet at Andy’s Jazz Club (Chicago)
Jan 12 Notes of Rest at Dominican University (Chicago)
Jan 13 Unity Jazz Festival at Jazz at Lincoln Center with Isaiah Collier & the Chosen Few (New York)
Jan 16 NuBlu with Isaiah Collier & the Chosen Few (New York)
Jan 18 Notes of Rest at Colgate Rochester Crozer Divinity School (Rochester, New York)
Feb 1 Julian Davis Reid’s Circle of Trust at Hungry Brain (Chicago)
Feb 1 Notes of Rest at Olivet Nazarene University (Chicago)
Feb 2-3 Marques Carroll Quintet at Andy’s Jazz Club (Chicago)
Feb 4 Julian Davis Reid’s Circle of Trust at First United Methodist of Oak Park (Chicago)
Feb 11 Notes of Rest at Barrington UMC (Chicago)
A reminder to appreciate the things we often take for granted. Like being able to smell the air after your nose has been clogged because of a cold.
When I watch you play, I witness that you are definitely hearing the notes with your body, and responding in kind. It's a conversation moving through you. x