Revision as of 19:06, 27 January 2023

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Reference text ( Maintained text, used as reference ) :
Notes: (Craftjenn, 2023-01-27)

A piece of music for Atysmas

“

Woren Siloy, dear homins.
I am very happy that you are all here today to enjoy together this evening full of art and friendship. I have also prepared something and I really hope that you will like this little experiment.
I will not use my voice this time, but try to let the music speak for itself. To stimulate your imagination. Music can be so powerful and evoke images in us that are stronger than any spoken word. Many of you know that I usually use my lute to accompany my singing. But today I have brought out an old gift. A memory ...
The bard takes out a violin and a violin bow from her backpack and smiles a little wistfully. A richly decorated instrument, with the seal of the Matis royal house discreetly worked into the pattern. She then smiles brightly into the round, places a small cloth over the edge of the violin, sets the instrument in place, tunes it briefly, and then begins to play:

“

♫♫♪♪♫♪♪♪♫ 
She sways slowly with the notes. The bow glides gently, almost tenderly over the strings, eliciting a delicate, somewhat mournful melody from the instrument.
♪♫♪♪♫♪♪♪♫
The melody tells of gently falling snow, which covers the valleys and hills, meadows, trees and bushes. Of hoarfrost on branches and roots, glistening in the sunlight.
♪♫♪♪♫♪♪♪♫
Through the magic of the melody, the daylight slowly fades into the red of the sunset and finally into night. A dark forest, the snow becomes denser, the wind more icy.
♪♫♫♪♫♪♪♪♫
The player makes the violin tell of a figure slowly trudging through the snow. Bent against the wind, wrapped in too thin robes, holding a flickering lamp in front of him. In the other arm a small bundle.
♪♫♫♪♫♪♪♪♫
The music suggests that something is moving in the bundle. A tiny body, a small face, sleeping fitfully. Tired arms hold the baby tightly and carry it, hastily through the cold night.
♪♫♫♪♪♪♪♪♫
The artist ducks, writhes as if in fear, and the melody grows wilder. Tells of something dark, evil that pursues the couple through the winter night. Chattering, clicking, screeching, roaring. Many skinny legs hurry through the snow.
♪♫♫♪♪♫♪♪♫
She recreates the homin's movement in the snow as she plays. Staggers forward a few steps. Lets the threat in the music become more insistent, falls to her knees, ducks, makes herself small. Gives up. The music stops.
♪♫♫♪♪♫♪♪♫
Then she plays a soft, trilling sound: the lantern still gives light.
♪♫♫♪♪♫♪♪♫
She stops again, then straightens up and plays a new, heroic melody:
Homins burst out of the darkness of the forest. In the light of the lantern they rush towards the monsters. Brave and determined.
♪♫♫♪♪♫♪♪♪♫
Then, eyes closed, the bard lets the melodies fight, monsters against warriors. The battle surges back and forth. The violin shrieks discordantly, calls like a war-horn, clangs like a sword, hisses like magic and roars in pain.
♪♫♫♪♪♫♪♪♪♫
It lets the clashing, contradictory melodies slowly ebb away. The melody of the warriors prevails, victorious. - A helping hand reaches out to the figure and is grasped.
♪♫♫♪♪♫♪♪♪♫
She makes the melody of the fugitive merge with that of the heroes: together, the homins depart. Without a backward glance, at the dead bodies of the Kitin. The lantern wanders through the trees.
♪♫♫♪♪♫♪♪♪♫
The Matissa opens her eyes, looks at the audience as she delicately continues to play, and speaks softly: Help each other.
♪♫♫♪♪♫♪♪♪
The melody tells once again of gently falling snow covering the bushes, trees, meadows, valleys and hills. Of shimmering hoarfrost on branches and roots glistening in the light of a lantern slowly disappearing in the distance.
♪♫♫♪♪♫♪♪♪♫
The music of the violin slowly fades away…

   

  Once silence returns, the Bard of the Four Lands
bows with gratitude to the audience.