Tag Archives: landscape

Music 462-465: Four Landscapes for Oboe and Piano

As the world nears the denouement of this blog planned to occur at the appearance of the 2500th story in a month or so there are a few things that have got a bit muddled over time. To tidy things up and lend an air of completeness to this blog there are a few things I will post over the next few days. The area that has suffered through lack of posting is the music sphere in particular.

So if I may, I shall post the music compositions of 2022AD that I failed to post. That way I can say in the end “It is done!”

One of the things that stops me from posting music is that I feel it is a nuisance to the readers who come here expecting a story. So if you are here for stories please come back in six or seven days once I have rid myself of these musical encumbrances. Also if you are a regular commentator please don’t feel any obligation to comment.

By now you must be beginning to decipher that I have a substantial inferiority complex! Perhaps the music posted today – called “Four Landscapes for Oboe and Piano” – might point to my propensity for solitariness. Perhaps the real me is hidden in these four pieces!

Here then are “Four Landscapes for Oboe and Piano”:

             Landscape 1 – audio HERE; sheet music HERE
             Landscape 2 – audio HERE; sheet music HERE
             Landscape 3 – audio HERE; sheet music HERE
             Landscape 4 – audio HERE; sheet music HERE

            

               

Poem 95: Self-portrait in landscape

The landscape’s crumpled undulations
stand perhaps as some sort of metaphor.
It’s as if when god got to make me a muttering was heard:
stuff this, who cares about this one?
The blueprint was screwed up
and tossed to the ground.

You know, you know,
people snapshot it, they take pictures
of the blueprint as if it’s the beautiful thing,
and yet the scene proclaims…

(nothing really, it doesn’t matter).

The landscape’s crumpled undulations
are as green as anything; muddled as anything.
There is no old history.
There’s nothing to say the place is sacred,
this dude is home, this fellow’s holy,
this guy is worth half another look.

You know, you know,
people snapshot it, they take pictures
of the blueprint as if it’s the beautiful thing,
and yet the scene proclaims…

(nothing really, it doesn’t matter).

The landscape’s crumpled undulations
can be unravelled if anyone cares to loosen;
undo the screwed-up-ness, flatten the blueprint out.
But it’s munted, the twisted scene’s munted,
the blueprint’s screwed-up twice
and chucked to the ground.

You know, you know,
people snapshot it, they take pictures
of the blueprint as if it’s the beautiful thing,
and yet the scene proclaims…

(nothing really, it doesn’t matter).

Someday someone might pick up this bit of trash
and set it on fire.

To hear the poem read click HERE!