sentir la necesidad de abrazar
de abrazar para bailar
volver al abrazo
al abrazo como un lazo, antes del paso
abrazados
quietos
estar adentro
sentir el abrazo en cada paso
aguantarlo sin soltarlo, hasta que termine, se disuelva y ya no vuelva
juntos
los dos en uno como ninguno
que todo pase ahí... antes de movernos
en la caída, que no es tuya, ni mía, ni compartida
es la danza que está viniendo, es el peso de estar soltando
y ahí no mas ya estás bailando...
tango, tan gotán
a prática de cachemira enquanto experiência corporal de vacuidade: inutilidade da busca de si próprio por via de qualquer apuramento progressivo - ser visto pela consciência, acabar com a pretensão de vê-la ou contê-la em si
o neti netihindu
não se procurar
nas expressões, nas reacções, nas opiniões, nas emoções, nas sensações, nas qualidades, na diferença, nos comportamentos, nos pensamentos, no aperfeiçoamento, no conhecimento, na compreensão, nas palavras, na memória, no tempo, na evolução, nos projectos, nos objectos, nos outros, no corpo, no silêncio, no vazio
me gusta caminar
sin compañia,
descubrir en los árboles
la semilla del fuego,
ver crecer los arbustos
con su ritmo tranquilo
y sentir cómo a todo
lo ilumina
la misma única muerte
que me ilumina a mí
you see, this story is your story, one that questions me and this story is my story, one that responds to you this is our common story the story of adam is the story of all humankind and it is one of tragedy
When I first saw "Marsyas" by Anish Kapoor at the opening of the exhibition, October 2002, in the Turbine Hall of Tate Modern in London, the impact that it had upon me was a powerful one. My first impression was that I, as a living being, was standing by my own body and was dead - as in a time-warp perspective, at once in the future and the present. Suddenly I found myself put into a position in which my life appeared in a different light. In this moment I had a strong sense of not being ready to die. And I was moved to ask myself just what I could still manage to accomplish in the time left to me.
Death and suffering are the themes that concern every person born into this world. The way in which the individual comes to terms with these issues (or fails to do so) determines his attitude towards life - whether consciously or unconsciously.
With its great size, Anish Kapoors sculpture shatters not only concepts of space, but also - in my view - concepts of time. The boundary between time and timelessness no longer seems so evident.
This is the subject matter underlying my composition Lamentate.
Accordingly, I have written a lament - not for the dead, but for the living, who have to deal with these issues for themselves. A lament for us, struggling with the pain and hopelessness of this world.
Lamentate is music for piano solo and orchestra. With respect to its form, however, the composition cannot really be described as a typical piano concerto. I chose the piano to be the solo instrument because it fixes our attention on something that is "one". This "one" could be a person, or perhaps a first-person narrative. Just as the sculpture, despite its overwhelming size, leaves the viewer with a light and floating impression, the piano, largest of the instruments, allowed me to create a sphere of intimacy and warmth that no longer seems anonymous or abstract.
Arvo Pärt
Da Pacem Domine
The prayer for peace that stands at the beginning of this recording responds to the lamentation, like the anticipation of an epilogue - through a glass darkly.
Arvo Pärt composed the four-part a cappella work to commission from Jordi Savall in 2004 for performance in a concert having the theme "Da pacem Domine". The musical point of departure was the ninth-century Gregorian antiphon, which many composers over the centuries have been inspired to set to music. Pärt carries on this tradition in a contemporary form.
Da Pacem Domine was premiered on july !st, 2004, in Barcelona, by Hespèrion XXI and La Capella Real de Catalunya, under the direction of Jordi Savall
