Sound Portrait!
I received an emailed invitation, sent by Martin Poole, reverend of St. Luke's Church, Brighton and founder of Beyond Church, to sign up for a 'sound portrait' made by an ensemble of professional musicians known as 'Epiphany'. It would have helped if I'd looked them up! As it was, it took a reminder-email to prompt me to sign up for the last available time- slot - not knowing what I was letting my self in for...
I went early, and was privileged to witness another woman's 15-minute, as the small band of musicians encircled her chair: two violinists; two flautists; keyboard player; drum & percussion; a cellist, and vocals; noting the rise and fall of improvised melody, and the emotionally awed response. 'How did they know her?' She'd asked, 'And her Irish heritage', so powerfully evoked when the buran was played, assuring her of the presence of ancestors.
After, the musicians offered thoughts and impressions they'd had whilst playing, then invited our small gathering of witnesses to join in. And then, it was my turn...
'Fasten Your Seatbelts, You're in for a Bumpy Ride!'
I'd said as I nervously took my seat, not knowing what to expect, and wondering if they just played variations of otherwise homogenous, classical-sounding stuff; after all, they were the same musicians as the previous session; same instruments; same place; same day. What on earth would they come up with confronted with me - if I was even fully present at all!
I held my breath. I noticed I wasn't surrounded - just one musician stood behind me (he had my back!) I realized afterwards that I might have felt a little ambushed had they encircled my chair. I was still nervously holding my breath when the odd staccato, scratchy, sweet cacophony began to play out. The percussionist's rattle reminded me of my favourite soundtrack motif in Shirley MacLaine's: Two Mules for Sister Sarah, which made me smile. 'How do you know me?' I thought, haha.
I sat with eyes closed, only opening them to make little notes on the pad on my lap (I wasn't sure if this was 'allowed' but knew I wanted to be as present as possible, and needed to capture precious impressions before they flew out of mind the moment it was over).
I also had my answer: same musicians; same available instruments; vastly different 'portraits'. Richard Williamson, their Musical Director, explained to me afterwards that they start with the 'outer layer' of each person as presented, but as they continue to play, can access deeper, more hidden layers. One of the musicians spoke of their not knowing what they would play; but each session is different, and none resemble a jazz 'spotlight' format, where each member gets their 'turn'! Their part is to play out the subtle 'broadcast' each person transmits on a level we are mostly unaware of, just as we can't see radio waves but can tune into various radio stations, and just as dogs can hear tones beyond our range, the musicians, being intuitively sensitive instruments themselves, are able to pick up on the signature-frequency of each participant. I marvelled at their playing 'as one', and was told that this was in large part due to their many years together, and, more importantly, being able to trust each other to the process.
Players & Layers
There's the playing; the replay and all the layers in between. Having a recording of the session meant I could listen once again, and many times over, to all the nuances, with scope for fresh insights at a later date. I had commented on a vocalist's cry sounding like a heartfelt native American Indian's call. She later told me that she had had the strong impression that I was perhaps unaware of how powerful and important my voice is; how important my perspectives are. This feedback made a great impact on me as I had been socially mute until the age of 26, and while I had come to develop an aspect of myself as quite loud and outspoken, I reverted to emotional muteness when hurt and most needing to speak out. The whole tenor of the playing was at times 'wild', but then, also 'mild', and one of the musicians was awed by the range of cello playing, from plunging into low and heavy depths to light feathered strokes; was this a reflection of a range with me, she wondered?
Picture This
As the musicians wove their melodic sound-portrait, another portrait was being intuitively created by artist Tamara Jackson, part of the Beyond Church team. Once again, I marvelled at what seemed to me to be a picture of a Native American sporting a large, proud, feathered headdress!
Later, once I was back home, I wondered what I might see if I turned the image 'upside down' (or right way up!). I saw a Hermit Crab! Yes, that creature, always in search of a suitable place to call Home. It all made sense.
Picture Perfect
A profound and touching experience. The sensitivity of the musicians meant no-one crept around me as they had in the previous session, and no-one in the small gathering of witnesses was invited to offer their feedback, both of which, for me, was reassuring. They had spoken of the music as 'wild' and 'adventurous', but there was also an element of mysterious quietness. For all the bright, colourful seeming stridency I present, they had surely picked up on a more hidden fragile vulnerability.
It might be more appropriate, for now, to keep the recording close to my chest, at least until I discover how to upload the audio to this platform! Here, instead, then, is a beautiful little video of the work and services Epiphany offers: Enjoy!
Whilst the musicians played, artist Tamara Jackson, member of the the team at St. Luke's, let the Spirit of the Moment guide an intuitive expression in a large floor-painting. I thought how appropriate it was that it was largely accomplished while on her knees, the time-honoured stance of prayer. 
