aching hard, aching soft (concerto for violin and infinitely responding space)
Yes, living can be somewhat painful. You feel as though you have been flung into a room
that is surrounded by forgetfulness: What was it I was supposed to be doing here?
You are drawn into a vortex of thoughts, hopes, actions and consequences that move so
quickly that you can’t manage to maintain a broad perspective. Naturally the
consequences are not only painful; of course life is also beautiful and tender.
But the painful feeling of being shut out lasts and lasts.
But – shut out from what?
Then do I have a memory, after all, of another, more profound reality?
A vision of a sense of unity behind it all? Because if that did not exist, we would not have
the feeling that we had lost it, would we?
When contemplating questions such as these, a type of life and a type of music spring up
that are characterised by the tension between two elements: at one level, the feeling of
being denied access to one’s real sources and goals, and at another, the feeling of being
carefully tended and included by that same source. Loneliness wrestling with loving
cohesion. But music and life naively gamble that loneliness is a temporary thing, while the
inclusive power of love has always shimmered, and always will, at the bottom of
Play Geir Inge Lotsberg. Recorded on October 27, 2004. 19:35
- aching hard, aching soft (concerto for violin and infinitely responding space) 19:35