Brahms inspires poetry in Hamilton Posted on April 7, 2014 It’s always exciting when one art form inspires the creation of another. Four years ago, author and journalist James Strecker attended an HPO performance and penned this ode to Brahms’ dramatic First Symphony. We are honoured that he would choose his experience at our orchestral concert as fodder for this poignant and touching poem. Enjoy it in its entirety below. “We shall live again in the sanctity of love, for Brahms has been the voice of creation.” -James Strecker — THE HAMILTON PHILHARMONIC PERFORM BRAHMS OPUS 68 to the HPO The beginning sounds the heartbeat of destiny. The players are now doubly become the mouthpiece of a mountain and the echo of one love yearning. Fate allows no denial and speaks the endless crags of destiny, but who reflects the eternal sky and dances, heel and heel, upon each star that sits heavenly? It is man the maker who gilds his courage with despair; he thus speaks love for these players, compelled and impassioned as they are, into sound. A maestro’s hand gives purpose to the players’ will and ordains the shaping of resonance and bends each voice into meaning for one and many solitudes. Now music, like a sage, considers the fate that is given to a life; it confirms the hue of love that is also a wound, accepts the gentle heart’s resolution that itself knows only to be answered and not to ask again what cannot be. Who shall concede a love that masks the world and gives resolute peace that too is destiny? For love gives nothing in answer but love itself. What should be love is sadness, what should be love is denied and so music speaks, wanders in hope, steps back, and becomes more resolution. Let us imagine colour then, not grey of sorrow, but blue that cannot be sky or green that knows not grass nor leaf, or any hue that is man unfulfilled in love. As if to descend and find their way, the players, like mind in sonority, mindful of spirit carved with hesitation, hear horn that summons order. One hand for all spirits shapes a hymn-like tranquility that denies not wisdom nor sorrow. So imagine each one in his voice transformed and made new. Or is each one anonymous in blessing he or she gives, unknown to the wonder they do, a part that knows no other part of unison sound. Or is he who leads the players now transformed? Does he find himself now a clarity of means in prayer to beauty that Brahms provided, for new life again, some lifetimes ago? Who would not be inspired and incarnate of hope that almost knows the world we live? Should we not give voice in our hearts to the hope we are also fated to sing, as we, unknown to ourselves in pain and wonder, give witness to this wounded declaration of love? We shall live again in the sanctity of love, for Brahms has been the voice of creation. What more can music of destiny ask of him? Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYou must be logged in to post a comment.