I thought it would only be fair to respond to the challenge posted at the end of yesterday’s entry re: music and memory and earliest memory. That had been the intention while settling in for the night. My mind aiming for the fun melodic mischief of the years before age six. Alas, with the spring ahead of the clocks, my memory sprang ahead to grade six.

The Music of Cosmos was as close as I would get to a television series our science teacher raved about, imitating Carl Sagan’s alleged ‘bil…..lions and bil……lions of stars” remark. It wasn’t that we didn’t get the public broadcasting station. On the contrary, after morning sessions at preschool or kindergarten – lucky enough to be in the AM class and not the PM – my mother and I watched many operas featured on the theatre shows. Making sense of Hansel and Gretel sung in German might have been an early spark for attempting to learn the langauge later in life. But I digress…

The Music of Cosmos was what I had to settle for, the vinyl disc still safe in the record cabinet in the family room. Television time was set and seldom altered by my parents. News would always trump something on any other channel. So rather than try to make sense of what was on the news – outside of homework assignments – I’d take refuge in my bedroom, music blaring and book in hand.

The first three piano notes of “Heaven and Hell Part I” by Vangelis hook me immediately while “Symphony No. 11” by Shostakovich provided a haunting tone and “Alpha” by Vangelis brought images of what I thought a Far Eastern country looked like.

The album kept me company as I focused on my BBC edition copies of three Shakespeare plays: Romeo and Juliet, Julius Caesar, and Henry IV Part 2 – otherwise known as a wonderful Kmart Blue-light special find for $1. “The Sea Named ‘Solaris'”  and “Legacy” accompanied scenes of Verona, Friar Lawrence’s Cell and Capulet’s Orchard. The flute in “Depicting the Cranes in Their Nest” equated the cries coming from Juliet’s Chambers. “Russian Easter Festival Overture,” “Fly Night Bird,” and “Bulgarian Shepherdess Song” rose and fell along the streets of Rome, “Partita No. 3” brought out the sights of the street near the capital, the Forum and even Brutus’ tent. “Beauborg, Part II” showed the bloody aftermath of the field of battle of Philippi.

Can I listen to the music without images of Shakespearean plays in mind? Yes. Unlike Epic Score’s soaring orchestration and crescendo of the choir, The Music of Cosmos is a great choice for easing into a good night’s sleep or even waking up to the next morning.

I still have the album with its cosmic illustration, even as I have upgraded to a compact disc. I have yet to watch any part of the series that sparked my interest in science, but the beauty of this music is that it can take one far beyond the stars, going as far as one’s imagination wishes to go.

To quote Carl Sagan, “Human music is an expression of our thoughts and our feelings, a combination that is the distinction of our species.”