When I eat, I eat when I make love, make love, when I play, I play
[ Miles Davis ]
in artistic expression there is no relationship between a symbol content and form distinct from each other: it expresses something -And even a spiritual value-through music, but music that is unique in its spiritual value and expression as possible. The music that does not express itself, even though the term "expression" did just that dangerous, which easily leads one to think of a thing to express and the duplicity of the medium to express
[ Massimo Mila ]
clarinet I have this new, just bought a beautiful shop that specializes in wind instruments. Trumpets, saxophones, flugelhorn, flutes, oboes and clarinets filled the shelves and delighted my eyes.
I have a room in which to practice whenever I need it, without disturbing anybody.
And I especially a little wish: take the stairs to the tower of the High and from there, from the foot of the imposing Aragonese tower overlooking the azure of the infinite sea, that sea insinuating itself with tentacles rapidly between the red earth and the deep green of the great pine forest, sit on the edge of the rock and play. I hear the sound of the clarinet that is lost in the air, enjoying the breath that the stomach returns to the world and hear that music, after all, is nothing more than come up with something that belongs to the universe from the belly to give it back.
Music is a refund, a debt that is firm, restore a lost equilibrium.
A musical instrument eventually becomes part of you, an extension of your body enough to feel the discomfort of a lack vital whenever held out to be in his custody.
Readings
Travel Finibusterrae. The passions and boundaries between Salento ., Antonio Errico , Manni
listening
Canto ebony , Gabriele Mirabassi , Egea
Images
order 1-2-3-
To My hand, the my clarinet (photo rodolfo)
0 comments:
Post a Comment