I am amazed by this very part of the movie: when Zibby tells Jesse to give a try for classical music in the middle of going through his day in the city. It's both beautiful and funny (makes me want to give that, too, a try) at the same time. So, you just need the right soundtrack in order to change your way to see things around you. Real talk, a city is overpopulated and most of its citizens are, well, not very pleasing to be around with, considering all those stress and workload they prioritize in order to survive in this lego palace*.
I wouldn't give a review of the whole movie, but this is just one of those interesting non-mainstream genre movies I'm always up for watching. I enjoy their deep thought conversations -feels like I'm in a lit class discussion. It takes quite a skill to pull of these kind of 'smart-ass' conversations in real life that will not make the parties seem like cocky satyric poets. Anyhow, here's a short gratitude letter from Jesse which I find... substantial.
*lego palace: a metaphor I use for a fast, ever-growing place called the city. You ground things, and build new ones, modify the yesterdays, building frames for tomorrows.
"Dear Zibby,
I can't thank you enough for introducing me to this music. Beyond just genuinely loving it, I feel it's quietly altering my feeling about New York City, with which I've always had a slightly conflicted relationship. I've found that if you replace the horns and the shouting with, say, Schubert or Telemann, the city becomes unbearably beautiful. After years of thinly disguised rage on both our parts. It's like the music had mediated a truce between us. Some early favorites, Massenets Meditation. If a more beautiful piece of music has ever been composed, I don't know it. That Brandenburg concerto is no joke, and I echo your sentiment regarding Beethoven. Whoa. I have no idea what the Vivaldi piece from Giustiono is actually about, but to me, it suggests deception, some kind of elegant double-crossing. It makes me feel like I'm a double agent knee deep in some kind of sexy espionage. I've decided the Wagner overture you included should come with a warning label. According to some quick online research, the opera deals with the struggle between sacred and profane love, which is arguably the only struggle there is. The other day, I was crossing the street lost in my head about something, a not uncommon state of affairs. I was listening to the overture, and as the music began to swell, I suddenly realized that I had hands and legs and a torso and that I was surrounded by people and cars. It's hard to explain exactly what happened. But I felt in that moment that the divine, however we may choose to define such a thing, surely dwells as much in the concrete and taxi cabs as it does in the rivers, lakes, and mountains. Grace, I realized, is neither time -nor place- dependent. All we need is the right soundtrack. I suppose this new infusion of music in my life is, at the very least, making me reconsider my hostility to dead, white males. And I have you to thank for that. How's things, by the way?
Your friend,
Jesse Fisher"
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