It´s all very well, young Bach´s ” Schlummert ein, ihr matten Augen” in BWV 82 ( Fische-Dieskau´s singing thereof unforgettable, yes; now it´s his eyes… So what ? ). To die. To what, did you say ? This rationally insoluble question is as old as the Neanderthaler, the cave-dauber, the three-note composer, on the swan-bone flute from 10,000 B.C. Catal Huyuk.It spawned religion, art,cathedrals, laws ( you could argue) and mores and more. Slumber?
“Das Nichts nichtet ” ? That is it ? Or that´s not it ? Be silent, our Celleno cats, as the light slides snidely.
BEFORE THE ROARING SUN IS UP WRITE :
A JULY HAIKU FOR WINTER:
The ice-berg´s calving Listen ! A gigantic crack
Splits its cold crawl
( Frank Corcoran 5.7.2012 )
IN GREAT HEAT COMPOSE TWO HAIKUS
The day is as long
As the bored crow´s long black beak
Shovelling silence
The crow knows no time
See: its dirty beak opens
In no time at all
CALDO AFRICANO = AFRICAN HEAT = TEAS ´ON AIFRIC
The National Chamber Choir has recorded Frank Corcoran´s ” Caoine ” for the Irish Choral Anthology.
Good news for modern man. Modern choral singing. The pure drop, solo soprano against a massed backdrop, hushed tenors and basses crafted, the melodic line timeless.
ENDOF ( HOT ) JUNE HAIKUS :
Crawling on from birth
To stem and leaf and petal
Then comes its glory
Eden was. Now it
Awaits its green transcendence
Our caterpillar
Tensed time is crawling
With the caterpillar´s hairs
Come, God of Insects
FRESHLY BAKED BACKGROUND BEAUTY
The pain is terrific; waiting to get pregnant with the next musical work. eg. for fractal tuning-fork, frogs´real-time chorus and festival orchestra ? Or something smaller, perhaps ? A humble Harp Solo, a miniature Bassclarinet Solo ? But what has been left to say? Sing? ( Have I already sung it ? Self-repetition is no fun. ) There is then another terrific pain, that of waiting for a premiere or crawling towards a work´s performance ( – will they ? won´t they? The money? Where ? Who´ll prepare? )
So there´s two pains now for the price of one.
SPEED BONNIE VAPORETTO
Yes, a quick weekend in Venezia still heals my soul ( – I hate tourism, folk-lore, the filthy tide modern ) . Down from 200,000 to a mere fifty thousand this intrepid, water Volk, these Veneti, grand. I suppose it´s our constant nearness to the lagoon water under the bed, under the kitchen-sink, those intrepid boatsmen choreographers, kinetic art over and above all the 20th. c. galleries high-pokered, Venice as a Villanova village on evolving stilts, a world-power wading in Byzantine , Greek, Jeruslem blood.
POST VENEZIA POST
April 10 2012. High Point University .
J.W.Turner, solo cello:
Frank Corcoran:
SUITE FOR VIOLONCELLO 1972
“This is a set of 6 miniatures that , with their profoundly lyrical moments punctuated by terse chords or expectant pauses, reflect the same Hibernian poesy and elusive fragments that characterize Frank Corcoran´s prose. See his blog, for example, in the article ” Just To Prove That I Am Not Yet Paralysed” he writes: “Treachery is ubiquitous in language, in memory, in blogging perception, whether the words and tones are self-referential or only half so. My Cello Solo Suite I wrote in 1972. Did I ? Sure, it was influenced by Bach, Kodaly, Henze, that over-blown Reger. No art without the past… ” “
Make the Melody Clear
This here is not a grabble, nor yet a grapple, a blog or log or even e-mooing.
I write it for myself ( and my eavesdrippers, certainly )and to myself, seeking clarity through doing, I mean writing, formulating these thoughts and musical thoughts and work-in-progress and also examining my ( others? Own up ! ) thrust to The Mirror, Narcissus At The Surface, what I am “up to” mentally and compositionally. Eavesdrip by all means ( legal, please ). Welcome all scopological e-readers, peeping Thomasinas…
CLEAR AS MUD
Yes, that last entry cam e from Jocelyn Braddell, The Handstand for March 2005 ” RTE Living Music Festival”.
Humph. How time changeth. Et nos mutamur in illo. Humph