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Echoes of Music

Photo: Caroline Stephens. Curt Chambers and Shantaia perform at the PRS opening reception.

Echoes of Music

Time always moves forward. We can hold onto photos, linger over words, and frame works of art. But music is something else entirely. It lives not in stillness, but in motion. It begins, unfolds, fades. It rides the air, shaped by minds, hands, and breath, and carried by imagination.

We can write music down. We can record it. But a score is only a possibility, and a recording, a captured memory. It is only when music is played, heard and shared that it becomes, in my opinion, ultra-real. So vivid it nearly takes shape, and then it disappears, never quite the same again.

Perhaps that is why music moves us so deeply. It asks us to be present. It calls us to listen, to feel, to participate. At our recent event celebrating the PRS Guitars exhibition, Curt Chambers performed his version of Eric Clapton’s heartfelt hit, “Change the World.” Experiencing that moment filled me with awe. It reminded me of the depth of our shared experience. As it continues to echo in my mind, it changes me.

At the Museum of Making Music, the galleries are filled with instruments. Some are delicate, some bold. Some are quietly revolutionary. They sit in silence, but every one of them carries echoes: of hands that played, of voices that sang, of ideas that dared to become sound. I’ve often thought it would be fun to ask visitors to imagine a story around an instrument and to wonder where it’s been, who played it, and what it meant to them.

Through our exhibitions and programs, we try not to preserve the past as something fixed, but to offer it as something still living. A question has stayed with me throughout my nearly 27 years at MoMM: How do we show music as a process, in a space where things do not move? We may never fully answer it, but we try. You’ll find layered stories, interactive displays, programs that invite you to play, and performances that fill our space with sound and spirit. Each one is a reminder that music is not a relic. It is alive, and it speaks.

I hope your next visit stirs something in you: a curiosity, a memory, a question, or even a story. The echoes of music are not behind us. They are around us now, waiting to be heard, waiting to be made again.