Friday, January 8, 2016

Seymour: An Introduction (Documentary Film Review by Bob Racine)



                             1 hr & 21 min, color, 2014

Charisma!  A descriptive word that by itself, apart from its precise meaning, is almost enough to soothe the ear and soften the heart!  It is beautiful to pronounce, letting it slide across the tongue through the open mouth. 

Cha-r-r-r-is-s-s-s ma!  To say it quickly or abruptly seems sacrilegious, like taking a musical phrase faster than the composer intended.  It invites you to nestle in its embrace. 

We sometimes think of high-powered, dynamic orators as deserving of this label.  But let us consider what the dictionary has to say by way of definition: “Compelling attractiveness or charm that can inspire devotion in others!”  I would not be impulsive enough to assert that all thunderous speech is lacking in this charm and compulsion.  But I would like to introduce you to a soft spoken gentleman who in my judgment meets the criteria at every turn of phrase.   He is a musician, a master of the keyboard, who will tell you point blankly that he does not crave a huge audience, that creative solitude is the highest coin in his realm.  Yet words fall gently and crisply and tersely off his tongue like so many sparkling fireflies.  Little gems that light the way for our thinking pleasure! 

His name is Seymour Bernstein (no relation to Leonard), a man who could have earned the accolades of millions of listeners and patrons, as he was beginning to do, until at age 50 a few decades back he gave up his burgeoning career and settled into the vocation of dedicated piano instructor.  He became the private person he wished to be, but one who gives support and training to aspiring players and aspirants of all sorts.  As the title suggests, the film is an introduction to the man, whom I feel I now know intimately from having walked with him.  The camera likes him, and the sound system adores him, not simply for the beauty of his playing but for his gift of gentle, loving reflection.  I want to reach into the frame and hug him like a grandfather.

The director of this modest production is Ethan Hawke, better known to most of us as a movie actor, recently honored for his outstanding work in “Boyhood”.  Hawke, in cinema verite fashion, does not weight us down with narration.  In fact, none of the segments looks as if it has been set up, though the eye can be fooled quite easily.  He simply drops in on the man and lets him speak for himself about whatever is on his mind.  But the film is not talky.  Most of the footage blesses our ears with choice excerpts of classical music.  If there has ever been made a film that could turn non-fans of the classics into lovers or at least inquirers into their magic, it is this one.  The conversation is rich, but it never crowds out the music.   

One type of scene the film depicts is his teaching sessions.  Watching and hearing him guide his pupils through their learning is a very special thrill to me.  Though I am not a pianist, I savored all he had to say.  He gives us priceless tidbits about the variance of volume in the art of interpretation and the crucial factor of pace.  A new door in my mind opened when he tells one pupil that in performance a piano musician must “pull the energy out of the keyboard.”  How else, we might add, can the music pull the energy and heart out of the listener!   

He draws an analogy between humans and pianos.  All human beings are made of the same stuff, but no two come out exactly alike.  Likewise, no two pianos are the same, however similarly they are built, even by the same manufacturer.  He demonstrates by hitting one chord using two different keyboards, and the difference in sound is remarkable.  We are treated to a moment when he actually comes across a piano he falls instantly in love with, unlike any he has ever used, or so he claims.  A joyous moment of discovery for him, and we get to share in it! 

He is a strong believer in the artist loving what s/he does.  He cites examples of performers who were neurotic or conflicted about what they were doing, not just among musicians but in any of the arts, lively or otherwise.  He implicitly takes issue with any who say that the quality of a creative person’s work is somehow enhanced by their unstable mental condition or their addictive habits or their self-destructive tendencies.  We have all heard these kinds of claims made.  While many accomplish great feats in spite of such inner personal turmoil they do not, according to him, owe their brilliance to that turmoil to any degree.  He cites Glenn Gould as a perfect example, “a neurotic mess”, a man who died unnecessarily at a very young age. 

The very fact that the film takes its titling from his first name only is a sign, I believe, that we are being invited to relate to him as a personal friend.  Seymour (yes, I will call him that) is lighthearted and humorous and a man of great insight.  “Music never changes; only people do.”  He tells delightfully interesting stories about himself, episodes that I doubt if I will ever forget.  He has chosen to live by himself in a small, modest apartment for many of his years instead of a sumptuous townhouse.  He lives a leisurely life and the film honors this preference by its own leisurely pace.    

But Seymour can be serious too.  He is a veteran of the Korean War, and he shares an amazing experience he had when he was allowed to play classical music for fighting men on the front lines.  It is incredibly moving and sad and for me at least unforgettable.   Telling it brings him to tears.

Another firm conviction of his has to do with the inseparability of artistry and craft.  One cannot thrive without the other.  Some of his friends we hear from voice a corresponding concern that too much stress is being placed today on talent, the excitement of discovered talent and the alleged failure of so many of the talented to develop craft, presumably making them fly-by- night performers, sudden sensations who never ripen to maturity.  I cannot argue one way or the other about that; I only know that Seymour has perfected his craft, however he compares with those who made a life’s work on the stage.

Undoubtedly all musicians and music lovers will be drawn to Seymour, but so should all who are seekers of truth and of life’s mysteries.  “You can establish such an accord between your musical self and your personal self that eventually music and life will interact in a never-ending cycle of fulfillment.”  Those words do not just apply to musicians but to all lovers of music.   He considers himself, as I consider myself, a spiritual person but not a religious one.  The life of the spirit is a resource that in his opinion few people tap into.  But “through music we become one with the stars”.  The film’s closing line is an even more beautiful evocation of this aphorism:  “I never dreamt that with my own two hands [on the keyboard] I could touch the sky.”

Give this charismatic man and his music a chance to come into your life.  Take the walk with him.  You can get him from Netflix.


To read other entries in my blog, please consult its website:  enspiritus.blogspot.com. To learn about me consult on the website the blog entry for August 9, 2013.

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