Symphony No. 1, 2016
Music begins where words end - so said Goethe.
Where words leave off, music begins - so spoke Heinrich Heine &.
Jean Sibelius claimed that music begins where the possibilities of language end.
Symphony No. 1 is an entire symphony of 3 movements, described in text so the music unfolds itself as music for the inner ear, challenging the dicta above, by claiming that Music begins when words begin.
The reader becomes the listener, that will become co-composers by creating music with their inner ear.
All along, hoping to complete an ancient cycle of sounds becoming written words - becoming sounds again, as stated below by McLuhan:
The phonetic alphabet forced the magic world of the ear to yield to the neutral world of the eye. Man was given an eye for an ear.
Symphony No. 1 seeks to give back an ear for an eye.
In an anatomical context, the inner ear refers to the cochlear, in which physical sound is conveyed into a nerve signal.
In Symphony No. 1, however, the inner ear is detached from all references to the human anatomy and refers to the inner ear in a more poetic sense.
In Symphony No. 1 the inner ear is a transducer that will allow you to roam freely within the utopia of imaginary sound.
When listening with the inner ear everything can take place, and everything is possible; the sound of 10000 trumpets, a choir of one million people, the sound of 10 hydrogen bombs, a note with the duration of 300 days, or the dying sound of 100 ancient beings.
By listening with your inner ear, you are free to create utopian music, and by articulating ideas into the utopian domain of the inner ear, the ideas can ricochet back into physical reality, and actualize themselves, if so wished.
It is not that easy though, to go into utopia, and we are not trained to do so.
Instead, we are often told that it is a foolish quest, and therefore we learn to pragmatic. We learn to think out ideas and concepts that are obviously possible.
But why dream rational dreams?
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear´d,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
(Keats, Ode on a Grecian Urn)