Just got back from the recital - the famous (well for me that is) the Stabat Mater by Pergolesi. It was phenomenal! I actually shed a tear when the duo sang the first part of the piece. The whole thing was mind-blowing - the ambience of this gigantic church, the low lights and candles casting an orange glow, the faint smell of incense in the air, the cathedral ceilings arched above my head gracefully, covered in Latin script and softly brushed clouds. The acoustics also added an element to the whole 'piety' of the experience: the harmonics crisp and strong, the tenor's voice reverberating through the pews. I closed my eyes for that one particular piece and began to envision the whole scene from my film: each detail, each movement, was there in front of my 'mental cinema screen'. It was quite breathtaking, so real. I was there...
The mother lifts the boy from his small bed. His fever is rising quickly. Tossing his head furiously side to side, he moans in a weak voice:
"Mother, mother, please help me, help me.
Mother, I see only darkness now. Save me from the darkness.
I am afraid. Please do not leave me alone mother. Please do not leave me..."
She rushes through the wooden doors of the kitchen. . Her long petticoat floats behind her gracefully as she struggles to keep her balance, running through the lush green meadow with the limp child in her arms - his body gracefully draped like a velvet curtain to her chest.
(Begin the Stabat Mater first movement - Duet)
Stabat Mater dolorosa, iuxta Crucem lacrimosa, dum pendebat Filius
At, the Cross, her station keeping, stood the mournful Mother weeping, close to Jesus to the last.
She is rushing towards the small pond - hoping that the water might bring his fever down. Ankle deep she wades through tall grass and bogs, bending down slowly, carefully. His loose arms and legs skim the top of the water. She bends down on her knees and immerses his whole body, keeping his head buoyant in her arms. Their clothes float effortlessly around them. Taking water with her hand, she sprinkles it over his face, and pushes back his now matted hair. Her weeping voice echoes off the pond, filling the summer air.
She whispers into her son's ear, tries to evoke a response from him, takes his fragile arm and lifts it to her face, kissing his tiny hand. The rain begins to fall gently on their already soaked skin and clothes.
In the distance, the father slowly walks to the door and pauses. His eyes are heavy, but are filled with a sad yet resigned stare, a resignation deep within.
As the rain begins to fall harder, the mother tries desperately to revive her now quickly dying child. Her clothes begin to weigh heavy on her body. Strands of wet hair cling to her bare neck and flushed cheeks.
The two sisters are seen running through the house and to the back door. They look into the distance with fear and trepidation. The father stands between them – his thick arms holding each one back. In between tears and shouts, their bodies slowly become limp as they begin to weep helplessly, knowing that there is nothing more that can be done to save their brother and that their mother must now too realize this herself.
The rain beats down furiously on the mother and the child in her arms. She looks at his sullen face, begging him for one last breath, one last look into her eyes.
Barely moving his tiny lips, he whispers:
"I am not afraid anymore mother…"
His eyes close slowly.
The mother lowers her head. Her body begins to shake as she beings to cry louder and harder. She lifts his lifeless body out of the water and rests his head and shoulders over her bent knee. Looking up to the sky, her tears and rain stream down her face as she begins to scream.
(Phew! Shit that was long!!)
So anyway –that is the scene in my movie set in the 17th century – a co-production with France and Italy and Canada about a young girl who wants to be a singer but cant because she is a girl… Bla bla bla.
But back to the original train of thought here – the recital was beautiful, and it was kinda spiritually cleansing, rejuvenation type of thing. Maybe it was peace – that is what I found there. Peace with myself and my vision for my ideas (movies). Oddly enough – I had my camera with me and took some pix. As I was leaving a girl came up to me and asked me what I do for a living. (I am a starving artist honey!!) She was all happy that I took photos of her work and art direction because she was so worried about this evening that she forgot to bring a camera to take photos of her stuff! So I gave her my card and she said she would call me to order some prints. Hmm – a coincidence leads to another coincidence, then to another…
Signposts. Take note when you see them coming, slow down to read them when you are there, and take that information with you to help you navigate along the journey…
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