Sound and Silence Weekends

A Personal Reflection from Sarah Verney Caird.

A small group of us have met twice this year, in March and again in May, coming together to explore sound, silence and the interface between them. We
had all previously attended at least one Music and Psyche residential workshop and therefore had a common understanding of/approach to instrumental improvisation, vocal work, listening and sharing. We also share a longing to come into a mutual meditative space and to explore more deeply.

The first weekend ran from Friday evening to Sunday morning. Having settled in and shared a meal together we entered into silence which would last until Saturday evening, broken only by music-making or non-verbal sound. There were previously agreed points at which we came together as a whole group and the rest of the time we were each free to "be" and to use the space as we wished.  We all found this enriching and fascinating. Some of us are more used to silence than others, but we found there was a "vessel" which contained us all. We discovered how reliant we usually are on the instant effect of the spoken word and how easy it is, although mute, to play games with eyes and pens that keep us at this level of communication which is familiar and safe.  We gradually began to listen more deeply, to wait, to relax, to glimpse something beyond our individual personal and musical habits and to allow an extra resonance - our corporate musical being - the whole that is greater than the sum of our individual parts. Time changed and expanded as we moved in and out of stillness. We encountered different moods, combinations, frustrations, jagged edges and beautiful harmony. Spontaneous improvisation found its place beside Bach keyboard music and a CD of flute and singing bowls (all performed or composed by members who were present).  Saturday evening was a chance to take stock and share how we had found the weekend so far and Sunday morning began again in silence. The garden birds were in full voice and led us into a beautiful improvisation, full of light and dance - a fitting ending to bring the group more closely together. For me there was a sense of transformation? arrival? a place to pause until our next meeting?

And from another participant:
"Something moved in me. like a ray of light. I feel I will never be the same again."

After this experience we all felt a strong wish to meet again soon and were able to do so (with one exception) two months later. On this second occasion the allotted time was shorter but, as we always find with M&P gatherings, had its own shape and reason. We met for lunch on the Saturday and then entered the silence for 24 hours, leaving time to reflect and evaluate together before our individual departures on Sunday afternoon.  This gathering seemed to be both a following on and a deepening from the first one. As a group we were much more able to embrace silence. All the music was "live" and improvised with a time also set aside for voices only.  Whereas on the previous occasion we played a lot of music and came in and out of silence, I found that this time the silence itself took precedence and therefore began to inform us and our music-making. Listening became more profound. I found it possible to hear music within me as well as without and to enter a more prayerful space. Our individual "habits" were less obvious and yet none of us lost a sense of who we each are, as we remained focussed on the musical interaction and allowed ourselves to "be sounded". Indeed, the sacred vessel seemed to grow clearer and deeper.  Again I was left with a sense of arrival and yet of having only just begun and the process continued to unravel through the following week.  We all look forward to our next gathering in September.

Sarah Verney Caird  08/06/2002