Music Monday - ANZAC Day

On the eve of the Anzac Day long weekend last Friday, Perth, and one regional area, Peel, in Western Australia, were plunged into a snap lockdown for the weekend, after a case of community transfer of the more contagious Covid variant. It came as complete surprise to us all, as we have been covid-free for months now. 

As many music teaching friends went about cancelling their bands’ and choirs’ attendance at Anzac Day ceremonies on Sunday (all public events were cancelled) I couldn’t help but reflect on my post from last Anzac Day. As the rest of Australia held ‘normal’ Anzac ceremonies on Sunday many Perth households revisited the tradition started in 2020.

Here’s the post from last year – I refrained from calling it the Last Post!

Anzac Day 2020 was like no other before it in the many years since 1915.

In Australia, with gatherings banned due to covid-19, the usual services and parades were cancelled  - except for one at the Australian War Memorial in Canberra attended by only the few dignitaries who conducted it, telecast to the nation..

Instead, at the tops of suburban driveways across the country, Australians gathered just before dawn, holding lighted candles, and sometimes waving to acknowledge their neighbours without approaching or speaking to them.

 In quiet reflection Australians remembered their Anzacs  - and all who have suffered and perished in war – and as the skies softly lightened with the dawn, the morning chorus of magpies and crows was augmented by players of music – student brass players, music teachers, amateur and professional musicians and singers – each contributing to an extraordinarily moving tribute.

On my own driveway I could hear from the next street the hesitant sounds of a student trumpeter playing “Lest We Forget”. Further away there was the faint sound of the Last Post with its tricky high notes for beginner players. 

In the couple of days since Saturday the papers have carried letters from Australians suggesting that the dawn driveway tradition be kept and commenting on how moving it was to have their own silent contemplation accompanied by the sound of live music. My music teacher friends as well as non-muso neighbours have all said much the same.

Music is SO important in our many life rituals. When we work on the tedium of music theory, or teaching the singing and playing of scales, it is worth remembering how important our job is. We are contributing in our way to the rich tapestry of our country’s unique culture.