"Summer Vacation"

Summer no longer has the ring that it used to.  Instead of the evenings riding bikes with friends, catching fireflies, playing video games, or a good day of fishing, has been slowly replaced with the humdrum of responsibility.    If I ride my bike, it is to my summer job as a telemarketer, and I no longer catch fireflies with friends, but make out phone call after phone call.   

Don’t get me wrong, with the economy how it is today, I am lucky to have a relatively well paying, and somewhat flexible job when so many struggle to find any job.   

Summer, is just not want it used to be, it is no longer the golden “Summer Vacation.”     I could tell you, that this was a “Golden Era” of sorts, a time that I will always wish was still what summer meant.    Now I wake up in the morning, finding those precious few hours to practice, until the afternoon, which I go in for shift, and hear call after the call, the ringing sounds piercing my ears almost constantly.   I some nights find myself bored, just waiting for someone to actually answer the phone; learning to be more patient with others  and not become angry when the people on the other end are not so nice.

I find the boredom a comfort, a break in the day, that I can let my thoughts wash out of my system, but one thing it is not is a “summer vacation.”    So, I do yearn, but it is not for some mythic simple time, that probably never existed, but rather the present.    More contrast with the boredom, to pursue intellectual lines, or at the very least, geek out over pretend intellectual lines.    The past loses it’s luster when compared with the sensuality of the present, constantly being surrounded by the sights and smells.   The feeling when the sun beats down, warming the skin, as you walk outside, the wind is cool.   The feeling you get when you see a beautiful woman, and have to take a second glance to glimpse her curves.    The present just feels preferable to the past.

Alright, and by curves let’s face it, if you are a guy, and have to take a second peak, you are checking out her butt.   We can try to dress this up with pretty words, but there are times when words fail us.   Scriabin, however, does not fail  in his sensual soundscape.   He deftly writes poetry for our ears.

The aptly named Poeme op. 32 No. 1 reaches to the core of this yearning, the enjoyment, the fulfillment, and the frustration and restlessness of wanting more.   Opening up with a serene melody, that just floats or glides over our skin, we are eased into his world.   Reminiscent of the nocturnes of Chopin, but this is not music of the night, but rather that lazy summer day.    Take it’s time and unwinding until we hit small “flutters”

Rising up until hitting that sweet note.   Scriabin builds in dynamics until he reaches, just one note, the turning point.

Inferando…is our instruction for what comes, as the music becomes more restless and quickens, by using 16^th note triplets over the 8^th note triplets before, but it remains quiet.   I had some trouble finding the meaning of Inferando.

Sometimes Scriabin would make up new words, or just out right butcher the Italian language in his search for directions for his music.  And the closest I was able to find was the Italian “Innaferribile” which usually means elusive or unseizable.   With the quick nature of the texture, and quiet nature it feels elusive.  Though it is also close to the word “afferando” which means gripping or seizing, leading me to believe that Scriabin was trying to lead us on a chase, while elusive there is hope we will capture what we are after.

The breaks between calm and restless trade off again, leading to familiar ground, as we can just enjoy the caress of harmonies, and punctuating this with an almost sigh of relief with a final Major F sharp major chord.   Our summer day has ended, and it is time to head home for the evening…..Maybe to catch some fireflies.


PS.  For those, who might want to listen to the piece in it's entirety check out this link.