Five years ago today when I became an adult, my father offered me the following bit of guidance: “Find one type of music you love intensely.” He wasn’t referring to casual listening, he was discussing becoming so immersed in a tradition that you’d come to know that tradition’s repertoire, recognize its performers, and understand its history. For him, it is Turkish art music a realm he reveres and has explored.
That was the music I was listening to at the time, The Beatles, Bob Dylan great music, no question about it. But I never had that kind of access that lifelong exploration, where every object leads you to a new set of questions and you feel as if the possibilities are limitless that my father was talking about.
Classical music was what that world became for me. It’s not just a “relaxing piano pieces” album or some cinematic scene music in the form of movie theme songs it’s a sea of sound wildly big, profoundly deep and endlessly vast. At the end of the five years, I am beginning to realize that you never really master classical music or see everything it has. There is always another composer to hear, another recording to compare, another level of understanding to attain. And that’s what makes it so compelling. Live shows have been pivotal in this path. Living in Istanbul also meant I could attend concerts on a regular basis, and I have learned to appreciate the unique and unrepeatable spell of listening to music in a concert hall: the electrified silence before the opening bar, the raw and natural sound of instruments moving through space, the unexpected moments that live music can produce. These experiences have influenced my classical music listening in ways that playing recordings simple never matched up to.
This is my feeble attempt to document that journey not in musicology or in the academics sense but as an avid listener. Whether you’re new to classical music altogether or you’re already embarking on your own journey, I hope there’s a little something in here for you. Welcome.
Burak Dikici 