Can music exist in another, non-musical form…? As coloured light, in the way Walt Disney and Scriabin would have us believe? As painting – it’s hard to look at a rococo ceiling and not hear Handel’s trumpets and kettledrums; impossible to stand in front of a Rothko and not be aware of a throbbing triad ceaselessly played on the lowest pipes of a cathedral organ? Music is there as dots of ink and lines on a page which some can read and hear in their mind’s ear. It exists in the shifting, fluid patterns that wind forms on the surface of a lake.
But can music stimulate the olfactory gland? Does anyone else smell shalimar and incense when they listen to the Dance of the Seven Veils?
Or what about music as food? I have never heard of an example of food-music synesthesia but perhaps such a condition might exist. The patient hears an F# played on a piccolo and suddenly imagines his mouth is filled with citron pressé. Or he bites into a bacon sandwich and hears a brass band playing Elgar on a Yorkshire village green. I’ve written before about Frankie Solarik of Barchef who can improvise a cocktail based on the sound of Miles Davis’s muted trumpet in Sketches of Spain.
Music is almost purely auditory. Eating involves all the senses. But there must be a connection. Certainly, it’s a relationship that needs to be explored. And that’s what we’ll be doing at Glenn Gould Studio on the afternoon of Sunday, October 23rd. The Amici Chamber ensemble, together with some dazzling guest performers, will be playing a most unusual programme. Some of it is music inspired by food – for example, Martinu’s La révue de Cuisine, Rossini’s Anchovies and Dried Figs, Bernstein’s La Bonne Cuisine... The other half of the afternoon presents food inspired by music – utterly delectable little hors d’oeuvres created by Alexandra Feswick, chef of Brockton General restaurant, after listening to pieces by Mozart, Schubert, Kapustin, Poulenc and others. The Amici and their brilliant guests will play the music; the audience will taste the hors d’oeuvres… My humble role will be to act as a sort of liaison between chef, musicians and audience – just in case some translation is needed. Though it is the fervent hope of all involved that the language barriers of the senses will dissolve and the true, deep, visceral, unconscious synthesis of music and gastronomy will be revealed.
As a food writer I confess I have sometimes been guilty of applauding the “harmony” of elements on a plate, of mapping the “crescendo” of infernal chili heat in a succession of Korean dishes, even (once, long ago, and I’m so so sorry) describing the way molten gorgonzola seeped over hot, creamy polenta as “cantabile, aura amorosa.” I trust our new exploration of the relationship between food and music will be more enlightening and a good deal less pretentious, especially without too many words to intercede between the twain. Come and see (or rather come and taste and hear) if you’re in town that weekend. The food will be delicious and the music will be sublime. And if you call the Amici Ensemble line (416 901 6279) and give the promo code JAMES CHATTO you can buy your tickets at a 10% discount. Sounds scrumptious, does it not?