Our Love is Here to Stay: Prejudiced Meditations

Master Chorus Eastside’s next concert, on May 19 2013, features the music of George Gershwin…and of course, the poetry of his brother Ira, who usually gets quite a bit less attention.  One of our singers has a passion for the music and poetry of the Gershwins.  She has recorded her meditations below.  I suspect she speaks for lots of people.

Dr. Linda Gingrich

Artistic Director and Conductor

Master Chorus Eastside

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Why do I feel that I know the Gershwin brothers better than anyone else? Maybe each one of us thinks that. It could be that we feel so close to them because their music has entered into our DNA. A scientific-minded person could demonstrate that the Gershwin/DNA connection is a fallacy, but it is true just the same. And that goes for our unborn children, too (“...one of these mornings, you’re gonna rise up singing. Then you’ll spread your wings and take the sky...”).

“Our Love is Here to Stay” is not a hymn to a romantic partner. It is a love song written by George and Ira to each other--an anthem of their love. Think of the brothers joined at the heart even when they were not talking to each other or even looking at each other.

Now, sing to yourself the words, “...We’ve got something permanent, I mean in the way we care. It’s very clear, our love is here to stay...” and you will never again be able to imagine that this is a song about a girl friend or a wife. Marriages can end. Romances can end. Brothers never end. That is my prejudice. And the eternal love of brothers joined in music may be more eternal than all the other eternal loves. Repeat after me--”Best brothers forever”.

"...together, we're going a long, long way..."

And together, they did go a long, long way.

If the brothers had been more alike, they probably would not have had such a good partnership and such a deep love for each other; for example, if they had both been like George--with his big, beautiful ego and his flamboyance.

Imagine two George’s fighting for the spotlight or for the piano bench at parties.

But Ira was a calm, beautifully and deeply quiet person.

It was a perfect match and a perfect chemistry for an artistic partnership.

The family had seen Ira as the gifted oldest son and they bought the piano for him. 

But Ira was a reader. 

He quietly stepped out of the role of promising piano talent and George enthusiastically stepped in. 

Ira was a reader. And no one knew, and probably still don't know, what a deep reader he was. 

He read a lot of light popular stuff. As well as some of the classic "good" stuff. 

He read everything. 

What he read was probably not as important as what he pulled out of what he read.

He mined words in ways that no one else did. 

Deeply.

And somehow, he blended those words, deeply within himself, with the modern currents of his time and of all time.

Roberta DeBruler

MCE Musical Correspondent