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Lost in the fields
In spring I found myself in a flower-filled
field in Brittany. The flowers were intensely colourful, the
air blue and dry. A light wind came from the ocean partly
softened by the trees that surrounded the pasture like a crown
of obsequious temple custodians. This scene fascinate me in
such a way that I think of it repeatedly even today. At the
same time the scene created a kind of disquiet in me. For
many months I asked myself why did I feel this unease before
a scene that proffered the mystery of a spectacle half way
between Arcadia and the great north. Perhaps the response
was within, even if I felt somehow that it was not so. The
answer came to me a few months later, when I linked that image
to the music I came to compose. The beauty of that pasture,
suddenly appearing like lightening in a forest, represented
something beautiful, simple and ancient. Thus, without knowing
it the pasture had set in motion within me a form of revolt
against the torment of the new at any cost, against the tyranny
of “complexity.
Luigi Maiella
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