I Concerti della Normale

The Scuola Normale Superiore is currently in the 42^nd annual season of its concert series. For the first time, I found some friends who felt like going together and so I took advantage of my final opportunity to attend a performance, an organ concert entitled Teatro Religioso hosted in the Duomo of Pisa, the cathedral right next to the Leaning Tower. Though I’ve walked past this building many times since the day of my arrival, I had yet to walk through the giant wooden doors. Inside, I was amazed by the splendor and very pleased to be accompanied by some new Anglophone friends.

While sitting in a pew together listening to the music, I slid on my glasses so I could get a better view of the building itself. I wondered how many lives must have been devoted to simply constructing this church where so many generations wept and sang God’s praises, a church filled with art so beautiful and detailed that it could, for financial reasons, never be made in its magnitude today. I pondered how many organists’ fingers had run across those keys and how very many notes had been played in this church since it first opened. It was a sensation somewhat like looking up to the clear night sky and trying to count the stars after the campfire has burned low. It made me feel so insignificant, though that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I find I experience this fairly regularly in Europe, surrounded by so much history. I can name every one of my ancestors who was born or lived in my native country. Many Americans can, and so in our national memories each of our lives takes on a much greater significance. Our lifespan is still comparable with that of our nation. One’s whole existence seems to take on a whole different significance in the face of such aged splendor. It’s quite eye-opening and I cannot deny it brings with it liberation. There comes the realization that we may each truly be but a speck in history. If likely each of our life stories will be lost in the oblivion of human memory shortly after our passing, then rather than worrying about our every step, why not allow ourselves the freedom to chase our happiness, to follow our own dreams, and to shape our futures to the best of our abilities? If few people in the course of history may even realize that you ever existed, then the least you can do is let yourself know, as often as possible, that indeed while you are here you are most certainly alive.