In 1880 Tchaikovsky wrote what has become to be one of the most popular overtures of fanfare and celebration, the 1812 Overture. With its chorus of chimes and cannons it celebrates the triumphant defense of the Russian empire from Napoleon’s invading army. Though it is often used today during American Independence Day celebrations, it is distinctly Russian in nature. While listening to a random playlist today this opus began, I stopped my work to listen for some of the 15 minutes it played.

It begins with a solemn remembrance, painting a picture of a cold winter, then a dark night broken by flashes of conflict escalating and fading. A glimmer of hope begins to shine through, though it fades and the conflict ensues, becoming increasingly difficult. But hope persists throughout, not as a reprieve but as a tide is turned and one is able to see that their effort counts for something valuable. A brief rest does come, and for a time we are carried away into green fields and pastures, the hope for the future. A chance to imagine what will be or dare to believe what could be, but it is short lived. Soon we are snapped back to the invasion as La Marseillaise overcomes the scene causing the calm melody to fade, eventually with a crescendo it becomes loudest and it seems that the French must have nearly claimed victory, only to be beaten down with cannon fire. Then their long retreat is echoed. Finally a somber victory is proclaimed with chimes and horns and celebratory cannon fire played over the tune of God Save the Tsar.

The casual listener might not recognize that what might sound like a victorious tune played intermittently throughout, La Marseillaise, represents the French invasion, it is mixed with the melodic Russian folk music and the both trade dominance throughout.

Though I am not a musician, I have a great and deep appreciation for music. There have been many occasions when something on my playlist causes me to pause, feel deep emotions, or even change how I have been feeling all day. I am grateful that there are many people blessed with the talent and hard work to tell stories through music, especially the classical ones. I am grateful that an overture written a century before I was born can still cause me to feel something. Rather than descend into a rant about the state of contemporary music, I invite you to find something without words and listen. Listen to see what story it tells, or what you can imagine it is telling, and how it makes you feel.

If your life so far was written into an overture, what might it sound like? Would there be a conflict of melodies rising and falling? Would there be movements of calm and stillness? Would you even have cannons? Definitely cannons.

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