We see the unprecedented surge of humanity pouring across borders. We see the vacant and startled fear in the eyes of the children, clutching the hand of an adult or holding on to a coattail. We see terror on the faces of the adults expected to protect them, keep them safe. Together they face the unknown with a small bag and a teddy bear. As we watch this unfold, there is a familiarity with the circumstances. It is far away, yet right there, just over your shoulder.

In this surge of humanity and in those who stay behind, music has become a common bond, speaking a universal language. It is the link that needs no words to be understood, that requires no experience of history, that builds solidarity, strengthens resolve, and expresses love. We saw that in a searing, gut-wrenching video wrapped with beauty and music and the pure horror of war, all inextricably entwined as played by the actor turned world leader.

Ukrainians live in underground shelters now, in train stations and garages, where they listen to a young violinist, whose music is silenced by bombs exploding nearby. And then we hear the voice of a little girl singing the Ukrainian national anthem. The Ukrainian Opera Company performs in the outdoor square as the Russians encircle the city. An orchestra plays in Kyiv. The Metropolitan Opera. The Pittsburg Symphony. The New Jersey Symphony. People around the world join in solidarity in Barcelona, Paris, the UK, Stockholm, Amsterdam, Vienna. Music is the message, playing on national stages, in shelters, and in village squares.

Music has long been the symbol of resistance and the hope for oppressed people. It is independent art. The art of the people. It belongs to no one…and it belongs to everyone.

—Judith K. Weiner