Music has charms to soothe the savage breast
|An echo of music resonated in the dark. And in the cold light of day, as well.
Well, it could be called music—at a s-t-r-e-t-c-h...
My Auntie Rene was a lifetime devotee and virtuoso performer of what I choose to call Chamber music. Less sensitive souls would say she 'fluffs' a lot. Of course, they are right, but this seems a bland description of the full scale of her repertoire.
A typical overture to one of her 'airs' was breathtaking, even overwhelming. You see, Auntie Rene could (and would) break into a rendition anywhere, anytime, with no concern about the size or proximity of her usually anguished audience.
Sometimes she began with a delicate lilting trill - which tended to lull one into a false sense of security. The initiated waited with bated breath for what they knew could follow. A string of staccato semi-quavers, perchance? Could a crescendo be imminent? Any risk of concussion from her percussion? Perhaps the Pan pipes were named in her honour? None of these questions appeared to trouble, or even occur to her; in fact she was always totally oblivious to the numbing effects her memorable refrains had on others. At least that was one of the impressions she left behind.
Auntie Rene's talents included the ability to converse throughout her concertos and stay seated throughout her symphonies without ever losing tone. Her fandango is fantastic; her mazurka mind-blowing; but I reserve my greatest admiration for her awe-inspiring interpretation of the William Tell Overture!
Our family believes Auntie Rene shaped her Philosophy of Life from a tombstone epitaph:-
Wherever you may be,
Let your wind blow free -
Because that's what caused
The Death of me!
(The Writer's Cramp Nov 18, 2020)