With Northern Ireland in the news lately for the reasons it has been, this post feels especially timely. May peace and love prove once again that they are stronger than hatred and violence ever will be, and may all of our Norn Ireland heartkin stay safe.
I am a chromesthete, which means I have a form of synesthesia that evokes colors when I hear sounds. Music is for me a more immersive experience than I'll ever be able to properly convey, but I've begun a massive project to try to paint moments from several songs across multiple genres and periods of time. I'm trying to give the world a glimpse of music through my eyes.
Fun fact: Kandinsky was also a chromesthete.
This piece was created to a song I wasn't sure I would even like. When Snow Patrol released Reworked, I confess that, as excited as I was to have new music from my longtime favorite band, I held off on listening to a few of the tracks because I love the originals SO much that I was afraid I'd hate the reworked versions. I tiptoed toward the fresh rendition of my longest-loved song on the album with other favorites, "Heal Me" and "Empress." I adore the new versions of both of those! The synesthetic impressions are different but no less beautiful for that, and I actually find myself gravitating toward the reworked version of "Heal Me" more than the original.
Finally, I had no excuse. I'd listened to the entire rest of the album several times over, skipping fewer tracks every time until there was just one I hadn't heard.
I hit "play" on "Run."
I still don't know what I expected, but it wasn't in any way related to what actually happened. It's rare that I completely miss my guess on a song but that was one of those times. I sat there with my jaw on the floor and looped the track to "watch" it in my head over and over. I have no idea how much time passed. An hour? I couldn't say.
"Run" as it was originally released is a gorgeous song full of emotion, and its colors in my head could mostly belong in the video we've all probably seen a hundred times. Those hues are dark and rich and warm, and I can feel the heaviness of the events that gave rise to that heartfelt call for hope in the midst of uncertainty. Hope is a continuous flicker in the dark in that version, the deliberate pull of quickening heartbeats against everything that weighs us down, that would claim us. “Run” is a yearning plea, a flare shot into the night over and over versus the fear and despair that threaten to overwhelm in seemingly impossible situations.
"Run (Reworked)" takes those same elements and sharpens them to fine points. This is a song that feels somehow self-aware. It reaches outward like sunlight leaving nothing untouched, snaring us all in its irrepressible optimism. The poignant uncertainty and pain are still evident, but if the original version had flares of hope, this one is an entire sunlit forest cathedral of it. Without trivializing the hurt, “Run (Reworked)” is an almost tangible hand lifting your chin and mine, reminding us that we’ve faced darkness before and come through. The instrumentation flits and flirts through the song, from the glittering sunbursts in the opening lines to the somehow bright-dark silence cocooning Gary's voice alone at the end.
It was that flitting brightness rising from a seemingly still forest floor that I tried to capture in my [deceptively simple] painting. Would that I had 25-30 feet of mural space to capture it all for you! Alas, that would be very expensive (and where would I put it?). So instead, here's a brief moment near the beginning of the song. The sky is the wan yellow-green of a coming storm combined with the golden relief of daybreak after a long night. I have stylized the rising tide of hope as small winged creatures (moths? butterflies? something else? you decide), lifting from two different spaces/sides (blue and green), and becoming metallic as they rise higher, until they are no longer blue vs. green but shining gold- and silver-winged in the light, united.
That thread of commonality, of our simple and beautiful human kinship, is a recurrent theme in Snow Patrol's music. We are all connected; what hurts some of us wounds us all. Likewise, what heals is a balm to humankind. Music names our pain, gives it borders, brings it into the light, and invites us to begin the healing work — together. Peace to Northern Ireland and to the world. Be well, my friends. You matter.
Wow Mel: you have just expressed perfectly the difference I feel between the two versions of ‘Run’ too. I could not have worded it better.
I am very, very interested in your project. Not just because of your art, but because I want to see if your experience connects to mine, as I have a very physical/ emotional response to music.
I don’t see it. I feel it in different places and in different ways in my body. It makes some music healing, and other music destructive.... at least to me.