We have no time to stand and stare ...
Yes indeed. I am rushing around like a headless chicken, trying to get things done, assignments finished, project ideas pinned and so is everyone else I know. However, it leads me to wonder, what about the wall staring time I need to hone the brilliance that will be my idea for the discovery of the millenium. Hmmm, maybe the world will just have to wait for me to have that kind of time ;)! Now that the self effacing being that I am is done with all the self congratulation, I can get on with spewing other stuff that's not on my mind but so wants to be on it. This blog is a self indulgent thing. All I want with it is to write something beautiful and unrelated or nonsensical by turns. Today is the day of the beautiful, I rediscovered Scheherezade.
What can I say about Scheherazade. It's such a romantic tale spun into such a beautiful symphony. The Arabian Nights - was such a tale ever told - the sultan who, after being cheated on by his wife, decided to marry a new girl every night, and execute her the next day. One fateful day he married Scheherazade, a storyteller. So magically did she weave her tales every night that he could not tear himself away from the stories she told, until dawn came and she left him in such suspense; he could not execute her for he had to know the end of the story. For a 1001 days did this saga continue until he fell in love and could not imagine life without her. The stories included some of my absolute favourites, Sinbad and Aladdin and Ali Baba were the stuff of childhood heroism, but the real hero was Scheherazade!
To this story, in the summer of 1888 did Rimsky-Korsakov, the Russian composer, write the symphony suite of Scheherazade. A strong and brawny theme is the opening of the piece's first movement, reflecting the power and ego of the Sultan, almost defying the listener to explain his presence and kneel to him in subservience. The ambience is intimidating and yet magnificient.
The response of Scheherazade, is a violin solo, a musical trance that weaves through strands of the beautiful instrument, caressing the bow so effortlessly to show the spirit of the princess and the storyteller: the passion and the beauty of this creature who was holding on to her life with all the wit and charm she could muster. The mesmerising effect is emphasised by the harp that transports one to a hypnotic trance in three chords - in the palatial decadent room where worlds were being carved and populated and the sultan was being brought under the spell of the sweet, melodic tones of the bard. I can sense the emotion, the sensuality, the sheer magnetic force of a world so far from your own and yet so alluring that even if you have everything in the world, you can't give up a good story.
The tales start with "The Sea and Sinbad's Ship." The undulating waves, rushing intensely in and then retreating to the far reaches of the ocean to form newer more powerful variants, every one of the transitions is a suspenseful twist in the tale and the symphony tries to capture and capitalise on each one to reflect how Scheherazade herself must have told the story, to capture the essence of her imagination and constantly make the listener uneasy and on edge. Like the story the music seems to go towards an important point and then step away just as I think it's going somewhere and there is something in sight.
Scheherazade's voice starts off the second movement, but this time she's more elaborate, almost more confident in the sound of her tones .. it sounds like she knows the embellishments and tweaks that he loves and is now playing him like a master ... the sultan is in her power and she knows it. The movement is known as "The Tale of the Kalender Prince" and this time the use of exotic solos from the Middle east is made extensively in the woodwind instruments. The sounds are foreign and so heartfelt. As I listen to this bit I feel poignant and thoughtful. It's as though Scheherazade was exploring her own world through the stories she was telling and living every minute of them. I can smell the bazaars in the desert with spices and bright silks and crowded, dusty streets with so much life and bustle.
The true quality of Scheherazade comes through in the movement final: "The Festival at Baghdad; The Sea; Shipwreck on a Rock; Conclusion." The sultan, now at the end of his tether, the music personifying his impatience with Scheherezade, his urging Scheherazade to complete the story, his agitation and impatience to know what happens next ... Each morning the executioner turns up at the palace doors, each morning the executioner is sent away with the instruction to come the next day and yet the next day she weaves another splendid tale that leaves him wanting more .. she weaves all the strands together from all the movements before, into this glorious one: tying every bit of music thus far into glorious symphony. At this point the Sultan forgets to tell the executioner to return, the last piece is his low voice finally mellowed by Scheherazade's love.
It is such a beautiful story and it comes alive, in full colour and rich glory in the playing of the music. I don't know how I ever stopped listening to it!
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