ADELAIDE – Walk alongside Creation Respectfully

By Deryn

Apr 30, 2020

Sibelius monumnet Helsinki showing organ pipes that are tree trunks of the forest

Photo Pixabay, Sibelious Monument,

Music becomes a voice for change

I have long believed that the arts serve purposes far beyond decoration. A painting can tell a story. A poem can preserve a memory. A novel can give a forgotten person a voice. Drama and dance are transient vehicles for storytelling. And music? Music can bring people together.  have seen something of this for myself in my travels. I have stood before the monument to Jean Sibelius in Helsinki, Finland, and I have visited Estonia. Standing in those places, knowing something of their history, gives a different meaning to the music. You begin to understand that these were not simply composers writing beautiful melodies. In times of oppression and uncertainty, music can become a vessel carrying the identity of an entire people.

Music when a nation finds its voice

Consider Finland. For more than six hundred years, Finland was part of the Swedish realm. In 1809, it passed from Sweden to the Russian Empire and became an autonomous Grand Duchy. During the nineteenth century, a growing Finnish cultural movement sought to strengthen a distinct national identity. The Kalevala compiled from Finnish oral poetry, became an important expression of that identity. Artists, writers, and musicians began to give Finland a language of its own, not necessarily a political language, but a cultural one.

Sculpture of Sibelious Head, Helsinki

Photo Pixabay, Sibelious Monument

Then came Sibelius. In 1899, during a period of increasing Russian pressure and attempts at Russification, Sibelius composed the music that would become Finlandia It was originally part of a series of historical tableaux presented at the Press Celebrations in Helsinki. The final section, known as “Finland Awakes,” stirred something deep in the Finnish people. Finlandia became a symbol of Finnish nationalism. When I stood before the Sibelius monument, I wasn’t just viewing a memorial to a famous composer. It reminded me of what happens when art helps people remember their identity. Sibelius helped give Finland a sound, and sometimes people need a sound before finding a voice. Organ pipes represented the trees of the forest; forests go deep into the psyche of the Finnish people, a voice that resonated with them.Estonian Music Festival Stand

Estonia sang its way toward freedom

I experienced a similar feeling when I visited Estonia. Domination by powerful neighbors has marked Estonia’s history, and during the Soviet period, language and national identity were under pressure. Yet Estonia had an extraordinary cultural treasure: its singing tradition.

The Singing Revolution of the late 1980s demonstrated just how powerful that treasure could become. Hundreds of thousands of Estonians gathered at the Tallinn Song Festival Grounds and sang traditional and patriotic songs together. They sang Mu isamaa on minu arm, “Land of My Fathers, Land that I Love,” a song that had become deeply associated with Estonian identity. They also sang the patriotic songs of composer Alo Mattiisen.Music of Estonian Dancers

Estonian Folk Dancers, Video - Deryn van der Tang

This was nonviolence; they were not taking up arms, they were raising their voices. By 1989, the movement had grown into the remarkable Baltic Way, when people in Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania joined hands in a human chain stretching across the three Baltic countries. Music had helped people remember they belonged to something larger than the political system that governed them.

The music that defied ruins

Then there is Sarajevo. During the terrible siege of Sarajevo in the 1990s, cellist Vedran Smailović became known as the “Cellist of Sarajevo.” After twenty-two people were killed while waiting for bread, Smailović returned to the devastated area and played Albinoni’s Adagio in G minor in their memory. Picture a city under attack. Amidst the broken buildings and people living in fear, a man sits with his cello and plays. The music could not stop the bombs, nor could it bring the dead back. But it declared something profound:

Beauty had not been destroyed. Human dignity had not been destroyed, and the human spirit had not been destroyed. That is the power of the arts.

Why do the arts matter?

When we talk about social change, we often think about politicians, protesters, legislation, and movements. And, of course, these matter. But underneath every movement is something deeper: a story about who we are and what we believe is worth preserving. Artists help us tell that story. A composer can give a nation a melody. Poets can preserve a language. Painters can capture a landscape that becomes part of a people’s memory. A storyteller can take the ordinary life of one family and reveal something universal about courage, suffering, and hope.

Perhaps that is why oppressive regimes have so often tried to control language, literature, music, and art. They understand something we sometimes forget: culture holds memory. And memory gives people identity.

The Bible tells us, “A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver” (Proverbs 25:11).

Sometimes someone speaks, paints, sings, or writes that word.

The arts may not change the world overnight. Yet, they have the power to shift how people view the world. And once people see differently, they may begin to think differently, hope differently, and eventually act differently.

As I think about Finland, Estonia, and many other places I have traveled, I remember that the arts form a vital part of human society. They are part of our inheritance; they carry the stories of those who came before us. They inspire courage in those struggling today and plant seeds of hope for future generations. Perhaps that is why music has such extraordinary power.

A single voice may be silenced, a single instrument broken, yet a song alive in people’s hearts proves much harder to destroy.

And sometimes, when a people begin to sing together, the world begins to listen.

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On to Adelaide to visit family members of the Rhodesian diaspora; I had been to Adelaide before on several other occasions. We headed off to the Adelaide Festival after church. This is wonderful Arts Festival is focused around the Rundall Mall, famous for its life-sized pig sculptures. The sculptures were designed by a South African artist, Marguerite  Derricourt, who is based in Sydney. These whimsical pig sculptures are called “A Day Out’, very appropriate for a day at the Festival!  

We went to the Yabarrah Show– Dreaming in Light, the Sleeping Cave.  This was an Aboriginal story time, with amazing technology using lighting and effects. Leading you into the story were Emu footsteps walking alongside human footprints, with the message “to walk softly on country is to walk barefoot.  If you choose to walk this way you will be walking alongside the creation ancestors respectfully.  We have walked this country with our bare feet since the first sunrise.  Our feet are our connection to the soul of our dreaming landscapes.” This resonated with our African roots as we were mostly to be found barefoot, except for school and church, running wild in the Rhodesian bush! After watching this amazing show, we walked to the area called Gluttony, which was also decorated with pigs! We sat down in some shade next to the lake for a break from the hustle and bustle of the Mall. We shared some Vietnamese Spring Rolls with an unusual crispy texture. 

We then continued down Rundell Mall, stopping to watch several Street shows and musicians, which were most entertaining as they interacted with the crowd. We were fascinated with the skills of a juggler on his bicycle. We had to stop for a photo with the large silver balls in the middle of the Mall, which along with the pigs are an icon of the city. We then visited the Opal Mine shop where there was a small museum showing us different opals and how they were mined: this was of great interest to me having spent many years as a geological cartographer. We went into the Rundell Arcade to find a restroom, to our dismay some of the lovely shops we had been in to last time had closed down. There was a lovely festive atmosphere and vibe in the city, but by the time we had reached the end of Randall Mall we were tired and decided to head off home after a very hot and satisfying day. 

The next day was gloriously hot, a beach day, so we drove down to Glenelg, where we walked along the Jetty, looking in the clear turquoise water. We saw several Rays with their flat, almost space-ship like winged bodies swimming along the ocean floor.  A piece of fencing on the Jetty had been used for the ‘Lock Ceremony’ where lovers commit to their love forever, lock the padlock onto the fence and throw away the key. We stopped off at Banjo’s Bakery and Café where the choice of cakes and pies was overwhelming, but we made our choice which we enjoyed with a cup of coffee, while we watched children playing in the fountains near the end of the tramline. We left George to entertain himself as we walked along the promenade to the Marina, so we could see the fancy boats and posh restaurants. When we had our fill of fancy boats, we walked back to meet George on the beach. The water was so warm and the sea so calm we decided to paddle; so different to the beaches in Cape Town where the waves usually crashed onto the beaches. I found a pretty shell on the beach which inspired me to paint it. After this pleasant day of relaxing we headed home where I began working on the shell drawing. 

The McLarenvale Vineyards was the next day trip, Jenny was keen to show me The Cube at d’Arenberg, a newer Vineyard, that had the drawcard of Salvador Dali’s Exhibition of sculptures and paintings, along with other artists in the gallery.  This certainly was the highlight for me as we walked around the estate, looking at the various sculptures in the gardens, before entering the main modern building which was a several storied building, made up of exploded cube parts like one of Dali’s artworks. There were also sculptures of musicians in the gardens, made from Gumboots which were fascinating! We looked at the old buildings, tractors and windmill, which were typical of old Australian landscapes. It was a treat working our way through the galleries – starting with a room with light projections of different paintings and colors coming and going before our eyes, I could have sat there for hours, but we continued the journey through the galleries and staircase decorated with colored balls, lights and mirrors, totally confusing the eye. 

We then decided to visit the restroom, which was made from huge vats; you entered the door into other vats which were individual toilets decorated with paintings. The hardware was also pretty quirky as were the handbasins, we took a peek in the men's room and saw crazy urinals, more than quirky! We finished off the visit with a bit of wine tasting and more viewing in the new temporary gallery with paintings by Marc Chagall amongst others. In need of sustenance we returned to McClarenvale to the Bakery shop where we bought a chicken pie for lunch before heading home. 

The final day in Adelaide was a social day meeting with Jenny’s Seeds Church friends, one interesting lady was involved in a ‘seeds’ ministry at the prison. Jenny was on duty at the Seeds Café so I joined her for some lunch of toasted cheese and scones. This gave me the opportunity to have some good conversations with people and find out about their lives in South Australia. 

My visit to Adelaide was completed with a walk in the gum tree woods near Jenny’s house and by the stone bridge where the trail started. A family reunion was planned for the last evening enabling me to catch up with other family members, before I headed off into the blue again to Perth, on the next leg of my trip. 

1 Comment

  1. Betsy McPeak
    Betsy McPeak on May 1, 2020 at 11:32 am

    What amazing experiences filled with beauty, ideas and yummy food in lovely settings!!
    My son was telling me about how if we walk barefooted on the ground it also connects us to the magnetism of the earth and is very helpful and healthy for our bodies to be grounded. I know I read one suggestion to sit under a pine tree on the ground and lean against the trunk to de-stress. So I liked hearing about the barefoot walking! We are meant to be connected to the Earth.

    Reply

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