What Lies In The Silences?

What Lies In The Silences?

I was just listening to the Tallis Scholars’ recording of Spem in alium, the gorgeous 40-part Renaissance motet by Thomas Tallis. In live performance, eight groups of 5 choristers circle the performance space.

Amazing.

But for me the most amazing bit occurs in the middle, when a sudden silence is followed by a collective intake of 40 breaths that signals the return of the music. I sit transfixed by those few seconds of silence.

This is the silence of anticipation, like the silence of the world just before the dawn.

There’s also the silence of meditation when we shut out the noise of the world and allow thoughts to come and go without reacting to them. I remember when Max Ehrmann's inspirational prose poem Desiderata seemed to be on everyone’s wall in poster form, with its exhortation to “Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.”

Then there’s the silence of companionship. Only those who are truly comfortable with each other can sit in silence, feeling no need to fill the air with idle conversation. Even the acerbically antisocial Sherlock Holmes appreciated it. As he said to his ever-faithful Watson, “You have a grand gift for silence, Watson. It makes you quite invaluable as a companion.”

Silence can be the most eloquent reply, and I’ve found it’s the best answer to someone who refuses to understand my words.

But I leave the last word to Hamlet who dies, after 5 acts of speechifying and clever wordplay, with a simple “The rest is silence.”

***

Painting: Henry Fusili ("Silence")