The Musical Instrument Museum: There’s Music Everywhere

The Musical Instrument Museum: There’s Music Everywhere

Almost anything can be a musical instrument. A horse’s jawbone? A couple of rocks, a stick, and some string? An armadillo shell? A box with a constantly buzzing antenna sticking out of it? Something that’s not quite a sitar, not quite a violin, and not quite a guitar, but also all three at once? As Mr. Music sang in John Mulaney and the Sack Lunch Bunch, there’s music everywhere, especially at the Musical Instrument Museum in Phoenix, where you can see everything I just mentioned. 

Since opening in 2010, the Musical Instrument Museum has exhibited the largest collection of instruments anywhere in the world. From guitars and pianos to rubabs and ngombis, the museum staggers not just with the size of its collection but the variety. Its sprawling main exhibit displays instruments from dozens of cultures, letting guests see not just the differences in how music is made internationally but the similarities, as well. As distinct as a sarangi is from European instruments, it’s still clearly a stringed instrument—something in the same general family as a lute or guitar. It looks different and sounds different, but operates on some of the same fundamental concepts, reminding us that we’re all in closer harmony than we might realize. 

Most of the museum’s second floor is occupied by that global survey, with instruments from a plethora of cultures from all five major regions of the world. It’s a genuinely overwhelming showcase, and could easily take an entire day (or more) to fully explore. And the instruments aren’t just on display; audio and video clips let you hear and see them in action, highlighting the startling diversity of music throughout the world. If you’re remotely interested in the sounds made by people, you’ll easily lose yourself within these spacious halls. 

If you’re less interested in instruments than the famous people who’ve played them, rest easy: the museum’s Artist Gallery is full of instruments played by some of the most important figures in music history. From early country, blues and bluegrass pioneers, through mid century superstars like Elvis, John Lennon, and Carlos Santana, up to current phenom Taylor Swift, you can get up close to stage- and studio-worn instruments by some of the biggest legends in music. Two of my personal faves were Duane Eddy’s double-necked Howard guitar, which has a sleek, aerodynamic design that makes it look like an early ‘50s sports car or even an art deco art piece; and the colorful, personalized pedal steel guitar of Bud Isaacs, who helped create post-war country by making the pedal steel one of its signature sounds on Webb Pierce’s 1954 hit “Slowly.” So much of what we think of as country today was born by the notes Isaacs summoned from this pedal steel—or at least another one very much like it. 

The most unforgettable part of the museum has nothing to do with celebrities, though. The Mechanical Music Gallery collects a wealth of toys, tools and gadgets that play music on their own—music boxes, clockwork noisemakers, and musical automatons from the late 19th and early 20th century, all clinking and clacking their way through their preordained tunes. Some of the artistry on display is truly baffling, like the automated figure of a jester who moves multiple body parts and holds a mask aloft as a tune plays. Made in Paris around the year 1910, this doll would still be mechanically impressive if it was built today; over a century ago it must have seemed like a very real kind of magic. This room informs us of the novel extremes people had to go to to bring music into their homes before recordings were an option. 

If you’d rather hear music made by people, and not 130 year old dolls, the museum also hosts a series of live performances, both inside its theater and outside in its courtyard. During a recent trip on St. Patrick’s Day I stopped on my way in to listen to some Irish folk musicians playing in the courtyard. I could hear them as soon as I stepped out of the rideshare car, and it was a sublime introduction to the museum and its mission. Guests can actually play select instruments at the museum, too, in the Experience Gallery, but when I stopped by it was basically just a cacophony of untended kids banging on anything they could get their hands on. It sounded amazing, like some kind of outsider industrial jazz.

That’s what music is about, of course—bringing people together in the timeless ritual of making or experiencing music. And that’s the primary goal of the Musical Instrument Museum; it might rely on the draw of celebrity to get some fans through the door, but its true focus and strength is to remind us that anybody can make music. You don’t need expensive gear, you don’t need an audience willing to listen to you, you don’t even need any real talent. You just need the inspiration and the drive to create. Very few of us will have the talent of Tito Puente or Roy Orbison, but we can all grab a keyboard or a zither or even just some rocks or boxes and start making noise. Music is everywhere, the museum tells us, and we have to actively choose not to embrace it. Let’s not make that mistake.


Senior editor Garrett Martin writes about videogames, comedy, travel, theme parks, wrestling, and anything else that gets in his way. He’s also on Twitter @grmartin.

 
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