how to conduct

conduct, v.

transitive verb
1. to direct or take part in the operation
2. to cause (oneself) to act or behave in a particular and especially in a controlled manner

intransitive verb
1. of a road or passage : to show the way
2. to have the quality of transmitting light, heat, sound, or electricity


I was walking in the woods today, cheeks red and numb, but smiling, when I accidentally broke off a twig from a wintry plant. I moved to throw it to the ground, but I thought, perhaps I was meant to have this piece of wood, so I shrugged and accepted it as meant to be in my possession. Its purpose, however, became quickly apparent. Sometimes I find things in a similar way, and they sit around the house before I discover their purpose(s). But as I began humming 'The Carol of the Bells' as I set off in the harsh cold toward home, my hand knew exactly what to do with the twig: it was a conducting baton! 1, 2, 3 it counted as I hummed the melody, and my new baton performed the corresponding loops. I draw from half of my life spent singing in choruses; conductors are not simply waving their hands wildly, though it might look like it, especially when conductors get into it when the music hits a crescendo, because conducting also shows performers how small/loud and staccato (abrupt or choppy)/legato (fluid) to be. Each time signature (about time signatures) has a corresponding arm movement to keep a chorus or orchestra in the correct time and rhythm. My friend, M. used to giggle at me when we went to the symphony for absentmindedly conducting along with just a finger.

3/4 time, 4/4 time, 6/8 time

Counting out a rhythm with one's hand movements is different from counting mentally. Like meditation beads, a simple stick can be a measurement of what's being processed mentally, without overthinking it. Feeling the rhythm of music means addressing it from a different perspective. I once took a course in music theory and composition, and it startled my perspective on music. Sometimes, I pry apart chords and add things up differently. Sometimes a simple melody will do me fine. I couldn't stop smiling, strolling down the empty street with my stick-cum-baton, singing just to myself.

A MUSICAL ACTIVITY: Go somewhere where you won't be disturbed. Get comfortable, and close your eyes. Allow music to enter your thoughts, and sing or hum the first song that comes to mind. Sing it all the way through, or until you can't remember the rest, or until a new song pops up. But do sing/hum the next song you think of - don't skip any just because you aren't in the mood for that sort of music. Allow your brain to flit from song to song, creating a crazy new medley. I did this on a whim today and recalled two songs from my childhood I had nearly forgotten. You might remember a song your grandmother sang to you before you even have memories, or a song you danced to every day for a month in your teenage years that you can now pluck from the deepest memory files.

Conducting also means to transmit electricity. There is a reason mantras are sung or hummed or chanted; vibration is conductive. It loosens our face muscles and connects us to what's around us. When I got home after my walk, hands numb, I thought suddenly of the opening of a film I had seen. I have only seen the opening, and there was no audio the first time I watched it, but I have a feeling this entire film, August Rush is entirely what I'm talking about. Listening. Feeling what's around you. Conducting, in every sense of the word. I'll let you know how it goes.