Swimming last week in the murky waters of mechanical rights, and royalties, I began to lose sight of the meaning of all of this. But today, as I was practicing and some of the chords of this magnificent Zarabande fell into place, and this piece that I have never heard before, and is, in fact out of print, and forgotten, came alive from the page under my finger tips, I remembered.
Suddenly I knew I had to call that publisher one more time, twenty more times if needed to get the recording rights. Because, somewhere, about 100 years ago, a Spanish composer penned a short but breathtaking movement for unaccompanied cello, with an eloquent and graceful nod to Bach, but chordal harmonies with Flamenco guitar dissonance and color.
It is amazing to me how powerful music is at capturing our imagination. When I roll the chords, and feel the vibration of the sevenths, I can almost feel the pain of love lost in Madrid, wandering the cobblestone streets looking for that person who shared that timeless moment of embrace.
There are so many layers to “classical music”. It is a vivid and complex art. This dance form, the Sarabande or Zarabande,, reaches far back into time and cuts across cultures. So here I am, an American woman, in 2010, feeling the slow 1,2,3 that people in Spain danced hundreds of years ago. People fell in love to this dance, gossiped and perhaps died to these poignant strains. Thank-you quiet soldier of history, and all other composers who have the courage to straddle that delicate balance between tradition and invention, connecting the past and the future to create a no longer forgotten gem.