Beethoven was a master of developing short, musical phrases into elaborate, complete ideas. In his Thirty-two variations in C minor, Beethoven takes a seemingly simple twelve measure passage and develops an entire twelve-minute piece, with thirty-two variations stemming from that little musical phrase. Each of these variations by themselves are hard to grasp without that central theme, so a true interpreter of Beethoven will stress the pauses between each variation to allow the audience a better understanding of how Beethoven translated the simple twelve-measure phrase into several wonderfully unique and diverse musical ideas.
And like the pauses in Beethoven’s variations, pauses in our daily lives offer a chance for us to gather our thoughts, free ourselves from the constant flow of time and our struggles against it. In Jennifer Egan’s A Visit from the Goon Squad, Allison Baker notices that her brother, a slightly autistic thirteen-year-old, understands more than many adults in certain things. One of these things may have been evident in his fascination with pauses in rock music, and in the way Drew, Lincoln’s father, had no idea how to handle this behavior. What is obvious to us is that Drew had already experienced diverse aspects of life (the variations of that simple, central theme), and Lincoln is almost as innocent as one can get. He has not yet experienced true, burning emotion, has not occupied a significant position in society, nor is capable of thinking at the capabilities of someone who is not autistic. What Lincoln possesses, however, is a fervent desire to understand and love his family, which may be why he is so attracted to the mysterious powers of pauses in rock songs. During these moments of silence, Lincoln is free of any restrictions placed on him due to time, and with the constant noises of movement broken, time becomes a useless factor for him. His father no longer stresses about his work as a doctor, his mother stops her annoying habits, and his sister is not working on her slide journal. This freedom allows him to be an almost omniscient being- unrestricted by time, looking through a different perspective, and earning a deeper meaning of the world in the process.
But as all pauses go, the song must begin again. With it comes a feeling that time is moving, a hectic constancy that nags at the back of our minds. Even the people who appreciate music most are wary of the fact that the song must end eventually, following its course of time. As we enjoy the music, we know that at some point it will end, and there is nothing we can do to stop that- and Lincoln’s elongated pauses serve only to delay that time. Without those pauses, however, we can lose ourselves in the mess of the world, have no time to truly experience the pureness that we have in the recluse of ourselves. Perhaps Lincoln is like the Grandma from Edward Albee’s The Sandbox: when the violin stops, and she is left alone to the inner silence of her thoughts, it is only then that she can express herself clearly, engage with the greater force outside of the scene, and understand her situation within the world.
phatdaddycho 