from Terry, 1-581-2, which gives us:
And spread the plague of gold and blood abroad:
That’s line 287 of Percy Bysshe Shelley’s “The Triumph of Life.”
Mercy. What am I to do with that?
5/25/09, 7:13 am
Everyone is still asleep around here, so I’ve opted for a bassoon version instead of my usual bawling. In fact, I’ve gone back and added a bassoon version to all of the pieces so far, for those who want to hear the music without my personal interference.
I’m intrigued by the way these pieces get written. Since I’m not spending a lot of time on any of them, I’m going with the first impulse and then reshaping that as the minutes tick by. That’s one reason you’ve heard a lot of clichéd writing: I’m just going with the obvious. In this one, for example, the “Pines of the Appian Way” kind of ostinato is pretty hackneyed; the orientalism of the right-hand is kind of surprising, since the poem is about the depredations of Western culture, but there you go.
Anyway, I’ll try to get the vocal version done later. I’m now up to twelve requests. It seems as if no matter where I am in the process, I’m only half done. It’s also occurred to me that I will probably have to pull back on all of this when I leave for Valdosta.