Se estrenó el 1 dic
2024CAPILLA CATÓLICA DEL COLEGIO LA
DOLOROSA
LOJA - ECUADOR
La interpretación coral de la milonga "Jacinto
Chiclana", compuesta por Astor Piazzolla sobre un poema de Jorge Luis
Borges y con arreglos de Darío González, presentada por el coro de la Casa de
la Cultura, Núcleo del Guayas, en el II Encuentro Coral Internacional
"CANTA, LOJA CANTA", fue un momento de gran intensidad musical y
literaria.
Bajo la dirección del maestro Juan Carlos Urrutia Palacio,
el coro logró transmitir la profunda melancolía y el lirismo de esta obra
maestra, fusionando a la perfección la poesía de Borges con la música de
Piazzolla. La interpretación coral, con sus armonías ricas y su emotividad, realzó
la belleza de la letra y la complejidad rítmica de la composición.
Esta presentación fue un verdadero homenaje a la música
argentina y a la literatura universal, demostrando la versatilidad del coro y
la riqueza del repertorio coral. La milonga "Jacinto Chiclana" se
convirtió en uno de los momentos más destacados del Noveno Festival de Artes
Vivas 2024, dejando una profunda impresión en el público asistente.
Second movement of my new composition for piano
entitled The Aleph.
Approximate duration: 35 - 40 minutes.
Miscellaneous Notes: The entire composition is
built on only four simple arpeggio series, which are constructed out of simple
triads. These small building blocks ultimately generate everything you hear.
The Aleph is inspired - as the title suggests - by a short story by Jorge Luis
Borges.
“In that unbounded moment, I saw millions of
delightful and horrible acts; none amazed me so much as the fact that all
occupied the same point, without superposition and without transparency. What
my eyes saw was simultaneous; what I shall write is successive, because
language is successive. Something of it, though, I will capture. Under the
step, toward the right, I saw a small iridescent sphere of almost unbearable
brightness. At first I thought it was spinning; then I realized that the
movement was an illusion produced by the dizzying spectacles inside it.
The Aleph was probably two or three centimeters in
diameter, but universal space was contained inside it, with no diminution in
size. Each thing (the glass surface of a mirror, let us say) was infinite
things, because I could clearly see it from every point in the cosmos. I saw
the populous sea, saw dawn and dusk, saw the multitudes of the Americas, saw a
silvery spiderweb at the center of a black pyramid, saw a broken labyrinth (it
was London), saw endless eyes, all very close, studying themselves in me as
though in a mirror, saw all the mirrors on the planet (and none of them
reflecting me), saw in a rear courtyard on Calle Soler the same tiles I’d seen
twenty years before in the entryway of a house in Fray Bentos, saw dusters of
grapes, snow, tobacco, veins of metal, water vapor, saw convex equatorial
deserts and their every grain of sand, saw a woman in Inverness whom I shall never
forget, saw her violent hair, her haughty body, saw a cancer in her breast, saw
a circle of dry soil within a sidewalk where there had once been a tree, saw a
country house in Adrogué, saw a copy of the first English translation of Pliny
(Philemon Holland’s), saw every letter of every page at once (as a boy, I would
be astounded that the letters in a closed book didn’t get all scrambled up
together overnight), saw simultaneous night and day, saw a sunset in Querétaro
that seemed to reflect the color of a rose in Bengal, saw my bedroom (with no
one in it), saw in a study in Alkmaar a globe of the terraqueous world placed
between two mirrors that multiplied it endlessly, saw horses with wind-whipped
manes on a beach in the Caspian Sea at dawn, saw the delicate bones of a hand,
saw the survivors of a battle sending postcards, saw a Tarot card in a
shopwindow in Mirzapur, saw the oblique shadows of ferns on the floor of a
greenhouse, saw tigers, pistons, bisons, tides, and armies, saw all the ants on
earth, saw a Persian astrolabe, saw in a desk drawer (and the handwriting made
me tremble) obscene, incredible, detailed letters that Beatriz had sent Carlos
Argentino, saw a beloved monument in Chacarita, saw the horrendous remains of
what had once, deliciously, been Beatriz Viterbo, saw the circulation of my
dark blood, saw the cods and springs of love and the alterations of death, saw
the Aleph from everywhere at once, saw the earth in the Aleph, and the Aleph
once more in the earth and the earth in the Aleph, saw my face and my viscera,
saw your face, and I felt dizzy, and I wept, because my eyes had seen that
secret, hypothetical object whose name has been usurped by men but which no man
has ever truly looked upon: the inconceivable universe.”
Jorge
Luis Borges, uno dei massimi scrittori d'ogni tempo, ha raccontato attraverso
il Tango l'anima del suo Paese, l'Argentina, e in particolare della sua città,
Buenos Aires.
Ma ha
anche svelato un segreto fondamentale dell'anima umana, quella forza dionisiaca
che solo una danza rituale come il Tango sa esprimere.
