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May 2006, #5           
 

 

 
Poetry Essay___________________________________________          
Gennady Mesh                 
    
     
   
   ETUDES ABOUT MUSIC                                                                                       
             
                                         
                                                                          From
Chicago Symphony


Mozart.
Violin.

Tender, breathtaking Sarah Chang.

Like a first kiss.

The avalanche of human souls

oscillated, and the hall floated under her

feet, torn off the ground conducted

by inspiration, force, and a music

miracle.
                           [November 9, 1997]


Cello. Yo-Yo Ma plays Bach.
Suite No.2 in D Minor.


Spirit melts, changes, transforms.

Only the musicians body is

on Earth. The rest,

is in the Heavens.

                           [March 8, 1998]

Israel Philharmonic orchestra.
Conductor Zubin Mehta.



Wide touches, freshness,

mild background.

Full of life.

No anguish.


Pinchas Zukerman with them.
Plays Elgar Concerto in B Minor.


Violin sheds sorrow,

confidently narrates

the history

of its spiritual experience.

Straight forward.

Open, severe dialog with music.

One on one, no audience.


Undisguised lyric, guitar-like,

raw from his soul, yet pure.


The audience drunk

with purity and frankness.

They are his captives.                              

                                  [ January 11, 1998]


On the stage scaffolding - Evgeny Kissin.

Himself.
Piano.

Music pours out, penetrates all pores,

it fills all chinks, sticks, tenaciously

catches everything living.

HE is a King of other elements, not

celestial, but earthly ones,

a clear and constant reminder

of himself.


Like the earth piece trying

to challenge and cover by itself

the heavens light,

obsessively seeks prisoners for his

kingdom beneath the moon.

He is its idol.

His smile melts grandly, perfectly in

his bows, intoxicated with significance,

the audience far below,

dissolves the fame

of this illuminated small, surreal

figure, detached from the

living mass. Mercilessly he

drinks success to the dregs,

doesnt let his unwilling prisoners

go.


After more

than half an hour of involuntary

agony, the ovation

dies down.

The light

fades away.

The audience

disperses.

                         [April 17, 1998]

                                                          G.Mesh                

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