That Which We Call 'Play'
A gem by another name
In the beginning of my reimagining was a word, and the word was “play”.
The word was there as a feeling, an intuition. I write about it a lot. And if you’ve read about it here, you may have the same question I have: what the heck is he talking about?
So, let’s look at it together.
Play is instinctual. It is also paradoxical. That combination is what makes it worth looking at carefully.
Where to begin this clarifying journey? Let’s start with a story.
Once upon a time, last October, the holiday season was on the horizon and I was looking for a music practice project.
Fortunately, a neighbor asked me to play music for our community’s annual Christmas party. The fit felt perfect. I enthusiastically agreed and quickly got to work.
Unfortunately, I also quickly tired of the process. Deciding which of the many possible songs I’d arrange, creating a spreadsheet to track progress, and beginning what seemed like an endless procession of rep sets to prepare 30 songs, my weariness outgrew the perfect fit.
I looked for a way out.
Turns out, the way out was the way through. I looked for a creative solution. I imagined the guests feeling invited into a warm and welcoming atmosphere as they arrived at the party. It wasn’t a recital. It wasn’t about how well I prepared. The purpose of the music was to evoke a reminder of belonging to our little neighborhood.
I was inspired. Each song transformed into a gift to share rather than an obligation to fulfill. I began to explore the many possibilities of sound available on my portable keyboard.
At one point, spinning the dial through instrument categories and imagining a flute and nylon guitar sound for “Silent Night”, I became absorbed by discovering the instrument’s potentials. By crafting arrangements to make the “familiar” feel creative and fresh for me, the traditional music became welcoming and festive for everyone else.
This story contained a gift I hadn’t planned for: the jewel of delight.
Although the music was crafted, my delight was not. It was inspired when I accepted the challenge to try a different approach. When I freely chose uncertainty, I became enticed by delicious sounds as I spun the wheel of enchantment. Delight found a playmate, and I was a willing participant.
This is one possibility for entering what Johan Huizinga calls the ‘magic circle’ — a separate sphere where different rules apply. Huizinga was a Dutch philosopher who spent his life studying the nature of play.
In the coming weeks, we’ll be looking at play from a number of facets related to music practice. The approach will be similar to the Christmas project: gently spinning through ideas, turning the gem slowly, letting each facet display itself, paying attention rather than cataloguing a system.
I invite you to come along. And feel free to participate in the journey by engaging as we go, however that feels right to you. Over time, we can fashion this jewel, clarify what we mean when we say “Let’s play!”
Hi Paul, I actually wanted to write about play this week too (what a coincidence!). I found a wonderful quote that I ended up not using. I'm glad it's now found its place under your post. It's by the German poet Friedrich Schiller and reads:
Man only plays where he is human in the fullest sense of the word, and he is only fully human where he plays.
This is a rich post, Paul. It "play"s into so many things. I'm developing many of my posts which are micro-curricula for churches to always include an element of fun—even silliness. Rules and formalities have their place but tend to be unnecessarily constricting. Play is by nature freeing. I look forward to your next post.