Sowash: Fantasia on “Shenandoah”
Patriotism = Love of one’s country, yes. But city and state?
For me, the lovable things about Cincinnati ...
— our support for the arts,
— our history, scenery, cuisine, architecture
— our great public library, hospitals
— the recent renewal of the city's core, where I live
— whimsy (only a few American cities have it!)
outweigh the deplorable things …
— the usual, dreary effects of greed
— the poor air quality,
— the lack of pathways up and out of poverty,
— the scandalously high rates of childhood hunger and homelessness.
But when a friend said, “You love Ohio,” I was taken aback. I do? I had to think. Ohio strikes me as The Land of Missed Opportunities. Greatness has often seemed almost within our grasp, but we lose heart, take the narrow view, opt for short-term gains, settle for less.
A few months ago, when I heard a presidential candidate say, “Ohio is an amazing state!’ I thought, “So the claims are true; this candidate really is a liar.” I’ve lived in Ohio all my life and the only thing about present-day Ohio that amazes me is Serpent Mound.
Ohio was once an amazing place. Just over two centuries ago Ohio was the greatest hardwood forest on the planet, intact since the retreat of the glaciers. All gone, long since. The settlers shaved the state bare. If they had had the foresight to let the forest remain in just one county or even just one township — which is to say, just one 36 square mile area — that would be an amazing resource for study, discovery and appreciation, a world-class tourist attraction. But no. For short-term gain, they destroyed it ALL.
Today Ohio is pleasant enough for the middle class and up. But amazing? No.
Do I love Ohio? It’s been my home, all my life. It seems churlish not to love it.
I suppose we look upon our city, state and country with the same feelings we harbor, in old age, remembering our parents. They were flawed, they got a lot wrong. Yet we loved them and cherish their memory … because, we conclude, they did the best they could. Some things they got right.
May our own children be as charitable in their summaries of us.
One small thing America got right was the song, “Shenandoah.”
When I’m asked, "What's your favorite song?,” I answer, “Shenandoah.”
I’ve loved “Shenandoah” since I first heard it when I was 12, in Max Steiner’s score for “How The West Was Won.”
When I was 23, I made the first of many hikes on the Appalachian Trail in the Shenandoah National Park.
The Appalachian Trail is a thing America got right. Another thing America got right was the amazing idea that there should be national parks. Next month our great National Park Service will mark the hundredth anniversary of its founding. That’s something to celebrate!
When I was 32, my wife and I, mindful of the song and the park, named our daughter Shenandoah.
Still later, we learned the meaning of this ancient, Native American word: “Clear-eye’d Daughter of the Stars.” That was how they described what we call Shenandoah river. You have to admire a culture that could come up with a phrase like that one.
When I was 41, I wrote my Fantasia on “Shenandoah," for string quartet, paying homage to our most beautiful American folksong.
Now I’m 66 and technology has developed to the point that I can share this music with you. For free! And so easily! Just by sending an email to y’all and asking you to “click.”
Twenty years ago, when I wrote this music, I could not have conceived of sharing my work so readily. Who came up with this whole electronic rigamarole that allows us such a privilege? I don’t know their names but I know that they were Americans. Ingenious Americans. That’s something else to celebrate this Fourth of July weekend: our amazing capacity for innovation.
To hear the Shelburne String Quartet playing my Fantasia on “Shenandoah,” click here:
http://www.sowash.com/recordings/mp3/sowash_fantasia.mp3
To see a PDF of the full score for my Fantasia on “Shenandoah,” click here
http://www.sowash.com/recordings/mp3/sowash_fantasia.pdf