![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
that kind of music
In reply to my post from yesterday, Hobgoblin wrote:
"I don't know if this will help, but if you don't know the Morten Lauridsen Lux Aeterna, I'll try to find a way to send you a copy. I just got back tonight from rehearsing the piece and-- wow. Something about the shifting yet static sonorities-- it just touches that place in the soul where hope springs eternal. I first heard it on Sept 11th this year on the local public radio station, and it moved me nearly to tears. But good tears. The kind that it sounds as if you need to shed, or shed more of as you move on. The kind that cleanse the soul and make you stronger."
For me, the Albinoni Adagio for Violin and Organ would be the thing. It is the only organ piece I can listen to comfortably: I find organ to be overwhelming [pity mum was an organ major, eh? that taught me tact at a very young age]. But in this piece the organ is the ground -- a very dark and dangerous ground, yet somehow supportive -- and the violin is the figure, compliant at first, following the landscape cast by the organ, but then that melodic line discovers its own strength and takes flight, leaving the treacherous ground and entering the free air, and I see it [yes, that word] continuing its necessary journey high above that dark ground, silhouetted against it, the brightness so much stronger for the contrast, the smaller voice now fairly matched with the ponderous power of the organ. In some trick of flight, the organ has been transformed from captor to servant to that agile, graceful smaller voice, and they finish together, the violin having taught the organ something new, something it needed to know.
( more music, and other things )
"I don't know if this will help, but if you don't know the Morten Lauridsen Lux Aeterna, I'll try to find a way to send you a copy. I just got back tonight from rehearsing the piece and-- wow. Something about the shifting yet static sonorities-- it just touches that place in the soul where hope springs eternal. I first heard it on Sept 11th this year on the local public radio station, and it moved me nearly to tears. But good tears. The kind that it sounds as if you need to shed, or shed more of as you move on. The kind that cleanse the soul and make you stronger."
For me, the Albinoni Adagio for Violin and Organ would be the thing. It is the only organ piece I can listen to comfortably: I find organ to be overwhelming [pity mum was an organ major, eh? that taught me tact at a very young age]. But in this piece the organ is the ground -- a very dark and dangerous ground, yet somehow supportive -- and the violin is the figure, compliant at first, following the landscape cast by the organ, but then that melodic line discovers its own strength and takes flight, leaving the treacherous ground and entering the free air, and I see it [yes, that word] continuing its necessary journey high above that dark ground, silhouetted against it, the brightness so much stronger for the contrast, the smaller voice now fairly matched with the ponderous power of the organ. In some trick of flight, the organ has been transformed from captor to servant to that agile, graceful smaller voice, and they finish together, the violin having taught the organ something new, something it needed to know.
( more music, and other things )
