Dvorak, Hamilton and coming home
Czech composer’s original themes embody the peculiarities of new Steeltown for me
In the ’50s, roughly 60 years ago (probably everything that long ago is rough), I wrote an article about Dvorak’s Ninth Symphony, the famous “Going Home” theme — an amazing, haunting piece.
I was a high school kid then, the Westdale reporter, writing for the Spec. I got paid half a cent a word, not bad for a teenager in the those days; one paycheque was $18.
Back in the day, steel was big, huge you might say: you could see the mill-flamed sky from my bedroom window at night. Pollution was pretty bad. The 403, the Red Hill and the Linc were just a dream, stuck in somebody’s planning drawer in city hall. Ancaster, Dundas and Stony Creek were different towns, way out there, definitely not Hamilton.
Sixty years before that, between 1892 and 1893, Dvorak, the composer, had moved from Europe to become the director of the National Conservatory of America, based in New York City. On trips throughout America, he was struck by the awe-inspiring nature of the American plains and the soul of what was then called the Negro spiritual. Interviewed at the time, he said: “I have not actually used any of the (African-American) melodies. I have simply written original themes embodying the peculiarities of the …. music.”
The Ninth was performed first on Dec. 15, 1893 in the renowned Carnegie Hall, possibly the greatest public triumph of Dvorak’s career. Wikipedia says that the end of every movement was met with thundering applause; such was the power of “home.” Years later, my little exercise in journalism touched on the “Going Home” theme, drawing on its roots, Dvorak’s American adventure. It reflected on how much the Ninth reminds us of the painful (and still resonating) journey of African slaves to the American continent. How much it reminds us that home for them was an impossibility. In truth, though, there was another inspiration for Dvorak’s work: He himself was homesick, the Czech in him missing his country, his people. Just listen to it: You’ll see (or hear, rather) what I mean.
For the past 20 years, the Ninth has also reminded me of Hamilton.
For most of those two decades, my wife and I lived abroad, that is to say outside the boundaries of Hamilton. The first dozen years of the partial and job- and self-imposed exile were in Toronto, not far by land, but a big distance in the mind. The past eight were spent in Washington, D.C. Both cities share much in common: They’re beautiful, treed, even elegant cities; they provide easy living, walking and internal commuting; both offer multiple cultural, social venues.
And, perhaps most of all, neither are Hamilton. Or home. We love all three cities, in the same way that parents love each and every one of their children. Particularly in Washington, while driving or walking, or coming home from a play or an evening with friends, one of us (usually me) would say, “How can we ever leave this?”
But the truth is, the time comes to leave the amazing job and that other place. Home is a strong magnet. Ditto family, friends.
So we did it, about a year ago, packing up and looking like the Clampetts (or for those my vintage, Ma and Pa Kettle), driving a U Haul, trailing two cars with helpful family in tow, moving back to Hamilton (actually Dundas, but who cares). What did we find? If it’s true that steel has gone somewhere else for the most part — our parents’ pride, joy, and livelihood — it’s equally true that much has replaced and perhaps even surpassed it. There is world class university and college education; better than world-class health care; the Art Gallery of Hamilton; talk of an LRT (I hope they get that right); the RBG; waterfalls, trails; a new spirit, a younger demographic, a vibrant, sometimes raw, dynamic. Most of all, a definite lack of pretentiousness; Washington and Toronto have enough of that for all of us.
Dvorak may have gotten his inspiration from the Western plains and from African-American music, but the truth is he was drawn by something we’d call home. For us, we’d call it Hamilton.
We’re glad to be back.
If it’s true that steel has gone somewhere else for the most part … it’s equally true that much has replaced and perhaps even surpassed it.