Monday, April 20, 2015
Seymour, An Introduction––A Must See Film
Seymour, An Introduction
This beautiful documentary tracing the life of Seymour Bernstein, a New York City piano teacher now in his eighties, is a profoundly moving revelation of the life of this truly authentic being.
Seymour left his career as a budding and gifted concert pianist for a life of teaching when he realized that a life on stage was far too demanding and indeed consuming for one of his sensitivity and vulnerability. He gave up all desire for fame and fortune to become one of the most beloved and creative piano teachers of our time.
Seymour lives simply in the one room New York City apartment he has occupied for over 50 years. There he painstakingly and lovingly offers instruction to a variety of students, while he himself continues to practice and compose. His emphasis includes more than mere technique, though he maintains a high standard for his pupils. Yeats spoke of the need to "make your soul," and this is what Seymour has done. He wants music that comes from the heart rather than as a display of technical mastery.
Often, the scenes of Seymour at his piano are seen against a background of pedestrians walking like shadows past his garden level windows. These shots remind us of references to "those who pass by" without noticing the treasures strewn along their way. There is also a slight echo of Eliot's reference to those passing over London Bridge when he says, "I had not known that death had undone so many." And for me, Plato's myth of the cave also comes to mind, though the correspondence is not exact.
Clearly the suggestion in these images is that the many are so busy following their "worldly" pursuits that they have virtually sacrificed what is best within themselves through striving for shoddy or false goals.
Seymour truly loves music. For him, the resonant tones of a perfect Steinway lead into a type of ecstatic union with what many call the "divine realms." He himself says that his own fingers have touched the sky.
To view the intimate details of his solitary life is to witness the daily occupations of a profound and authentic human being. He tells us of the pitfalls of fame––and reminds us that those who have risen high on the ladder of public success may be private failures as far as their personal lives are concerns.
In today's world, where many sacrifice their own humanity in their frantic search for "success" in the world's terms, this film is an essential reminder that "soul making" is much more essential than "career making," and that one example such as this can show us what it means to be an authentic human.
For me, one of the attractions of this film is that dear Andrew Harvey is included as one of the interviewers in a brief sequence. I know that Andrew himself is a dedicated lover of music, one who resonates deeply with it as that which can connect us with other realms. And in the film, Andrew makes a stunning revelation––that he himself once heard the "music of the spheres." Though there are many historical references to this phenomenon, there are virtually no reports of humans who actually have experienced these celestial tones. Andrew, of course, is a deep mystic, and thus he is capable of capable of achieving heights of ecstasy through sound that we others may have to wait for until we leave earth and enter the higher regions of sound and silence. But it is reassuring to know that the "music of the spheres" is a reality, not a myth.
This beautiful documentary tracing the life of Seymour Bernstein, a New York City piano teacher now in his eighties, is a profoundly moving revelation of the life of this truly authentic being.
Seymour left his career as a budding and gifted concert pianist for a life of teaching when he realized that a life on stage was far too demanding and indeed consuming for one of his sensitivity and vulnerability. He gave up all desire for fame and fortune to become one of the most beloved and creative piano teachers of our time.
Seymour lives simply in the one room New York City apartment he has occupied for over 50 years. There he painstakingly and lovingly offers instruction to a variety of students, while he himself continues to practice and compose. His emphasis includes more than mere technique, though he maintains a high standard for his pupils. Yeats spoke of the need to "make your soul," and this is what Seymour has done. He wants music that comes from the heart rather than as a display of technical mastery.
Often, the scenes of Seymour at his piano are seen against a background of pedestrians walking like shadows past his garden level windows. These shots remind us of references to "those who pass by" without noticing the treasures strewn along their way. There is also a slight echo of Eliot's reference to those passing over London Bridge when he says, "I had not known that death had undone so many." And for me, Plato's myth of the cave also comes to mind, though the correspondence is not exact.
Clearly the suggestion in these images is that the many are so busy following their "worldly" pursuits that they have virtually sacrificed what is best within themselves through striving for shoddy or false goals.
Seymour truly loves music. For him, the resonant tones of a perfect Steinway lead into a type of ecstatic union with what many call the "divine realms." He himself says that his own fingers have touched the sky.
To view the intimate details of his solitary life is to witness the daily occupations of a profound and authentic human being. He tells us of the pitfalls of fame––and reminds us that those who have risen high on the ladder of public success may be private failures as far as their personal lives are concerns.
In today's world, where many sacrifice their own humanity in their frantic search for "success" in the world's terms, this film is an essential reminder that "soul making" is much more essential than "career making," and that one example such as this can show us what it means to be an authentic human.
For me, one of the attractions of this film is that dear Andrew Harvey is included as one of the interviewers in a brief sequence. I know that Andrew himself is a dedicated lover of music, one who resonates deeply with it as that which can connect us with other realms. And in the film, Andrew makes a stunning revelation––that he himself once heard the "music of the spheres." Though there are many historical references to this phenomenon, there are virtually no reports of humans who actually have experienced these celestial tones. Andrew, of course, is a deep mystic, and thus he is capable of capable of achieving heights of ecstasy through sound that we others may have to wait for until we leave earth and enter the higher regions of sound and silence. But it is reassuring to know that the "music of the spheres" is a reality, not a myth.
