Thursday, June 26, 2014

a span of hands

“Nobody will ever play this composition. It’s too difficult and long and possibly--and this is the most important thing--too dubious musically." 

- Sergei Rachmaninoff, regarding his first piano sonata

On the canvas of this impressionist,
there is no room for a missed stroke.

Watch the shapes of singing color rise.
From across the wheatfields,
the bells of Ivanovka
strain with ardor until they burst,
carillon recast as cannon-fire
blasting through a gaping rib-cage.

A window opens through time.
Is it she, whose eyes borrow a gleam
from the living lampada of sunset,
a vila lurking in the meadow-grass?

Near a bundle of sweet-clover,
a letter sealed with wax awaits.
A steady rain calms shaking hands.
Scriabin would have gotten that joke.










Idil Biret plays Rachmaninoff's Études-Tableaux Op.39



No comments:

The mountains held up the sky like pillars, releasing plumes of pebbles, streams and silt as far as my girlish eyes could follow, and w...

popular on this site