symphony...

the first movement enters with soft strings, first bowed then some light pizzicato on the violins and the cello takes up the melody, the refrain that is both haunting and hopeful, and which will be heard again and again over the course of the symphony...
then the piano comes in, a shift of mood, some light and playful notes with trills and grace notes and appogiaturas ... and the orchestra follows. it is a time of happiness and hope...
buds with all the promise of blossoming, flowers to grow and bloom, a springtime in the heart.

the second movement begins slowly, but it builds up to the climax, a mighty crescendo that echoes and reverberates throughout the whole hall...the crash and bang of the timpanis, a storm has come, and thunder echoes over and over. the percussion takes up the challenge and the brass section emerges triumphantly from under the noise and chaos of the storm. the trumpets are strong, loud, maybe even a bit aggressive...

finally a chorale, marking the final movement, absolution, peace and putting the past in its proper place. the heavenly sounds of the pure and lovely voices, so reminiscent of churches, stained glass, the holy eucharist, lifts up the heart from its trampled and dispirited position to a higher place. it is a call to Him and in the notes of the organ which accompanies the ever soaring choristers who raise their voices in song form the call, the refrain which in the beginning was only hopeful and happy, but has now achieved true faith, hope and a joy that can only be found in the Spirit...joy which is as to happiness a sea to a puddle. (adapted from terry pratchett's a hat full of sky)

as the concert goers leave the hall and the orchestra members pack up their instruments. the choristers heave a sigh of relief, it was not an easy piece to sing ... the conductor thanks everyone.

and in the silence, so loud after the drama and noise of the performance earlier, the day turns.there is no looking back. no wondering about missed notes or an imperfectly timed coming in. it is over, the performance is as it was. nothing can change that.
it is in this space that the pieces fit together, and the pianist, who for months has slogged along with the rest of the orchestra with her somewhat less-proficient sense of rhythm...begins to see how the movements intersect into one another, how they form something so beautiful, how they reflect in more ways than one, the journey of a person's life. after all the finger-straining and heartaching practices, she who had seen nothing but scoldings from the conductor and some nasty cattiness from the second violinist, finally saw everything...
and she breathes a small sigh, her shoulders are aching, and she wants to watch a dvd with her boyfriend later after supper ... then she smiles. it has been a good night.
life goes on. it's not only about the huge and life-changing, earth-shattering revelations, it's also about mundane moments that form a patchwork quilt, so colourful and so comfortable in their very mundaneness.

(i myself can't help smiling at the end of this post. anyway, have a good week ahead, and take care!)