I am looking at these colourful little flags, not for the first time. It's not even the second or twenty-second time I am staring at them... I stopped counting. The erased introduction paragraphs to this post don't help me go forward. Trying to start to write a post after more than a week of silence on my blog is like walking in a place. Or just standing absently on a railway platform - the feeling is the same.
But it is all fine and strawberry as life goes in cycles and sometimes we notice that history is repeating. Or do we call it d茅j脿 vu? Clearly seeing similar bunting through my memory and the feeling of letting the days pass by... must be just a coincidence, so let's try to move on and wish these strings of colourful triangular paper flags would unchain some words. This almost became a wordless post.
Wordless was also the place these photos were taken before the people arrived and changed the situation. Everything became lively later. Last Monday this little chapel celebrated the day of Saint Vincent Ferrer (San Vicente Ferrer). Every year, one week after Easter this day is celebrated here with music, traditional clothes, food, sports activities and a mass in honour of this saint whose name the chapel bears.
The mural above shows a local traditional handball sport, called Pilota Valenciana. Local people usually play it on streets or courts, striking the ball with a bare hand or just a little protection (like gloves) against a wall. The other version is to play it against another team. These activities can't miss on holidays, especially if they last for several days.
This time I didn't participate as a musician, but still, I was there to listen to the local choir and a tiny chamber ensemble of one oboe, three violins, one cello and a piano. The sun shone abundantly, like it does every year on this day, making the poor musician suffer more than they should.
However, we can't always choose the circumstances and occasions where we bring music.
Just two days after this festive event, I was asked to play in honour of one important person from the town who passed away. It was a person who was always fighting for others, for their rights and well-being, gathering funds for the official association against cancer in the region and showing kindness in every situation. The music director of the town and the Major wanted to make the farewell nicer and I was supposed to play one composition after a few words expressed in her honour. The gathering turned out to be different than expected.
It is also fine to celebrate the departure of someone with wine and ham, talk and music. There are so many different cultures and traditions and really, we don't have to stick to one that we are used to. However, I found myself in a situation where the expectations from the music director and one family member were not the same. What I knew is that I didn't go to play at a party. The initial idea was to play one piece that would bring just memories about how she was, warmhearted and elegant at the same time.
Time was passing and I started to ask myself why I am there at all. I saw some others also being a bit confused with the circumstances and met the same puzzled gaze of the music director. It was time to improvise in the given situation, and that is how I started to play a Nocturne by F. Chopin after a few words given by a friend that described the passed away person. The loud chatter somehow stopped and moments of reflection in silence reigned in that room. People were moved in the end and the reason why they were there made sense.
Anyway, I will think twice next time whether would I accept to play again for such an occasion or not. Maybe playing outdoors, where the sun shines brightly (and blinds you while reading the music scores) and the wind makes the colourful flags dance on the string (and makes your music scores fly away) is a less stressful experience.
I left this photo to close this post. A newly installed sundial on the wall of the same chapel where the celebration took place last Monday. I am wondering if it would show me when I will press the publish button the very next time. 馃槄
