[encore] 1381: What Is This Air Changing, This Warm Aura, These Threads of Air Vibrating Rows of People by Ariel Yelen

Summary

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[Encore] 1381: What Is This Air Changing, This Warm Aura, These Threads of Air Vibrating Rows of People by Ariel Yelen

The Slowdown: Poetry & Reflection Daily with Maggie Smith
Date: March 27, 2026

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Episode Overview

In this encore episode, Maggie Smith takes listeners on a reflective journey about the emotional resonance and communal power found in singing together—whether in a church, at a concert, or during everyday moments with others. Drawing on her own recent experience at the Chautauqua Institute, Smith explores how music and shared song can move us unexpectedly and connect us to past and present selves. The centerpiece is Ariel Yelen’s poem, "What Is This Air Changing, This Warm Aura, These Threads of Air Vibrating Rows of People," which meditates gently on the act of singing, effort, and the tenderness of collective voice.

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Key Discussion Points & Insights

Resonance of Communal Singing

• Maggie recounts her visit to Chautauqua Institute and the emotional impact of hearing a choir sing during a church service (00:30–02:15).

  • Reflects on being moved to tears among strangers, highlighting the universal, almost involuntary emotional response to collective singing.
  • Smith's conversation with a friend reinforces how hearing children’s choirs can similarly evoke deep feelings, not just from "sweet little kid voices," but from something more profound.

• Personal Connection to Music and Memory

  • Smith observes that her upbringing—singing in choirs and bell choir in church—left an indelible mark, suggesting these experiences are "baked in" (02:16–03:10).
  • The ability to recall old hymns by heart after many years away from such environments speaks to the lasting power of communal music.

• Reflection on the Power and Effort of Song

  • Discusses the poem’s central theme: the juxtaposition between effort and effortlessness in making song—how birds sing naturally, yet singing as humans is a "worthy effort."
  • Identifies singing as both powerfully communal and deeply individual, and “baked in” from childhood experiences.

The Poem: Ariel Yelen’s “What Is This Air Changing…”

• Structure and Content

  • The poem considers singing as a small—yet “fathomless”—human effort, comparing it to how birds sing without effort, and how for humans, singing alone or together can move us to tears (03:15–04:50).
  • Notes the contrast between singing being sometimes difficult, sometimes effortless, especially “if enough people sing in a group.”

• Emotional Interpretation

  • Maggie finds her experience echoed in the poem’s closing:

    “If enough people sing in a group, if I’m part of that group, I cry, I'm holding a thing that breathes and makes sound. Where song comes from and goes to.” (Poem, 04:29–04:45)

  • Frames singing and poetry as acts that connect inner experiences with the shared world.

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Notable Quotes & Memorable Moments

• On the Mystery of Being Moved by Song

  • “I was sitting among strangers in the Chautauqua Amphitheater on a Sunday morning with tears rolling down my face from the choir.” — Maggie Smith (01:30–01:41)

• Reflection on Why Choral Singing Moves Us

  • “Something about hearing voices in unison. It's powerful and communal and comforting and deeply moving.” — Maggie Smith (02:00–02:12)

• On the ‘Effort’ in Singing

  • “This soft effort at making songs, this effort at song... which birds do effortlessly, what birds do effortlessly, this tiny bird, this tender, worthy effort.” — Ariel Yelen (Poem, recited 03:55–04:15)

• On the Leaping of Song from Individual to Group

  • “If enough people sing in a group, if I'm part of that group, I cry, I'm holding a thing that breathes and makes sound. Where song comes from and goes to.” — Ariel Yelen (Poem, 04:31–04:45)

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Timestamps for Key Segments

• 00:30–03:10: Maggie’s reflection on Chautauqua, choir, and communal singing
• 03:15–05:10: Introduction and reading of Ariel Yelen’s poem
• 04:29–04:45: Poem’s pivotal moment on how group singing evokes emotion

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Tone and Takeaway

The episode’s gentle, contemplative tone mirrors Maggie Smith’s signature warmth and sincerity, inviting listeners to notice the gentle beauty—and the underappreciated “effort”—in both communal singing and the act of paying attention. Listeners are encouraged to lean into those moments of wonder, joy, and emotion that poetry and song can open within us.

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For more poems and daily reflections, visit: slowdownshow.org.

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Transcript

[A]

Nemo, Evil and Doug. There's nowhere I wouldn't go to help someone customize and save on car insurance with Liberty Mutual. Even if it means sitting front row at a comedy show.

[B]

Hey, everyone, check out this guy and his bird. What is this, your first date?

[A]

Oh, no. We help people customize and save on car insurance with Liberty Mutual together. We're married. Me to a human, him to a bird.

[B]

Yeah, the bird looks out of your league anyways.

[A]

Only pay for what you [e-mail] Liberty.

[B]

Liberty. Liberty. Liberty.

[C]

Hey, it's Maggie. This week we are revisiting some of our favorite poems and reflections from the season so far. I'm Maggie Smith, and this is the Slowdown. Recently I was invited to speak at the Chautauqua Institute in New York State. It was actually a conversation event with author Kwame Alexander, which was wonderful. Spending a few days at Chautauqua was a special treat. Boating on the lake with friends, going to see Leve in concert, and just enjoying the energy and spirit of the place and the people there, if you've been. You know what I mean? It's pretty magical. One of the things I did while there was attend a church service in the amphitheater, which holds more than 4,000 people. I was there to hear Sister Teresa Maya speak, and I'm so glad I went. She spoke about the environment and about the wonder we experience in nature and not being enough on its own. We have to work to protect the world, not just be in awe of its beauty. But the most surprising thing that happened was that as soon as the choir sang, I felt a lump in my throat and my eyes welled up. I was sitting among strangers in the Chautauqua Amphitheater on a Sunday morning with tears rolling down my face from the choir. I was talking to a friend about this the other day and she understood. I know, she said. Every time I went to one of my kids choir concerts, I'd cry. And then I remembered that I did the same thing going to the elementary school choir concerts and winter music festivals. I got teary every time the kids sang. I told myself it was because of their sweet little kid voices. But that's not the whole story. Something about hearing voices in unison. It's powerful and communal and comforting and deeply moving. I wonder how much of my emotional response is because I grew up in church singing in choir and even playing in the bell choir. Singing with others and listening to others singing together around me was part of my life. Growing up. Being away from it for so many years hasn't dulled me to its power, though like so many things we grow up with, it's in there, baked in. In fact, I still remembered the melodies and words of most of the hymns we sang that morning at Chautauqua. That recall surprised me. Today's poem sang to me and moved me like a choir. What is this air changing, this warm aura, these threads of air vibrating rows of people? By Ariel Yellen this small effort because this little singing, this little sound, small song, this fathomless effort, this voice which comes from the gut, this soft effort at making songs, this effort at song, this effort to make song which birds do effortlessly, what birds do effortlessly, this tiny bird, this tender, worthy effort. And sometimes it is no effort, no effort to sing. Sometimes I've had a drink or two. Sometimes it's effortless to make song. If enough people sing in a group, if I'm part of that group, I cry, I'm holding a thing that breathes and makes sound. Where song comes from and goes to.

[D]

The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. To get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter. And find us on Instagram at SlowdownShow and [e-mail] the Slowdown is written by me, Maggie Smith. Our lead producer is Micah Kielbon, and our associate producer is Maria Wurtel. Our music is composed by Kyle Andrews, engineering by Derek Ramirez. Our editor is Joanne Griffith. Additional production help by Susanna Sharpless, Cece Lucas, Marcel Malikibu, and Lauren Humpert. Our executives in charge are Chandra Kavati and Mark Crowley.

[C]

Hi, it's Maggie. The Slowdown is the only poetry podcast in public media. That means your support is vital to keep us going. No matter how much you give, your contribution makes a real difference. Head to slowdownshow.org donatetoday to power more Poems into the Future.