April 23, 2008
Waiting is beautiful
…listen
…about the musicAhead lies a water voyage.
This was the view yesterday from my car in the parking lot at Anacortes, on Fidalgo Island, which hosts the ferry landing for boats headed to the San Juans. Spent the day in Seattle, running some unimportant errands that required leaving the house at 5:15 a.m.– normally right around my bedtime– and then returning on 5:05 p.m. boat.
As I was, you’re staring at Mount Baker, a volcano just short of 11,000 feet and maybe 300 miles to the east, accompanied by the Rockettes of ridges, the Cascade mountain range. It’s quite a sight when you’re sitting in your little pod-on-wheels, munching on modest food offerings from the tiny ferry terminal cafe, checking email on the Treo, catching up on work on the laptop, and eventually leaning the seat all the way back to relax. Hard to complain about having to put the car in the line early to make sure you get on the boat, when this is the backdrop. Objects in photo are larger than they appear.
Steve Layton said,
April 24, 2008 @ 4:23 am
Is there such a thing as an unimportant Alex Shapiro errand?… 😉
You got the height right, but Mount Baker’s really only about 40 miles from Anacortes. Definitely worth a day-trip; it’s even closer than Seattle!
Glenn Buttkus said,
April 24, 2008 @ 5:32 am
Only you, Alex, could make waiting in line a beautiful experience. I really responded strongly to WATER VOYAGE the clip @ 2:04, a parcel of the original work of 9:31. Very interesting to match the clarinet duo with the synthesizer. You can certainly find strains and octaves and colors electronically that are hard to pin down; just lay back and enjoy them I say. I loved your comments about the piece, about the back story of how a clarinet solo became a clarinet duet, and then more.
Water Voyage
Water Voyage
began life
for a soloist,
in a piece called
Water Crossing,
that was commissioned by
clarinetist Gerard Errante.
When Gerry told me
of his friendship
with clarinetist D. Gause,
and their duet recitals
together,
it seemed natural
to create
a second part.
Years ago
Gerry told me
of his canoe,
tied up at the dock
by his home
on the Virginia coastline.
The thought of it,
waiting there
for him
made me imagine
a beautiful journey
beginning in still
lake-like waters.
During this mythical voyage,
the canoe gradually
morphs
into a sailboat
entering the open ocean,
with dolphins dancing
ahead of the bow.
By the end of the piece
we’ve returned safely
to shore;
invigorated
and peaceful.
With this version
of the music,
there are now
two happy adventurers
in the canoe.
Alex Shapiro 2007
I feel the need to dabble in the water too, and my poetry will follow.
Glenn
Glenn Buttkus said,
April 24, 2008 @ 6:39 am
And now is the time to unveil my own poetic inclinations relative to your day trip, and your triumphant return.
Ferry Fugue
Home again,
home again,
just morning till
night,
but still a delight,
parting the gray green waters,
churning up salty foam
under the bow,
passing fast
through sun breaks
and shadow,
getting a faint whiff
of the neighboring isles;
their beaches,
their forests,
their farms,
their kelp,
their driftwood.
There you stand,
spread-legged against
the wind,
with the big white deck
beneath you,
and the Sound’s spring chill
knifing through your long coat,
spreading out the tassles
on the end of your bright scarf;
wearing stylish sunglasses,
naively waiting for the sun;
tall collar up
like a spinnaker
before the breeze;
hands deep
in your warm pockets,
humming and smiling,
hearing those lovely melodies
winging to you
with the gulls,
and the soft thump-thump
of the great ship’s throbbing engine,
with the lilt of children’s
laughter,
and the high pitched
woodwind bark
of someone’s lap dog.
Then you notice
that old man
in the Greek fisherman’s hat,
sitting back on a bench,
out of the breeze,
holding tightly onto
a colorfully wrapped
cafeteria sandwich
in his strong old hands.
But for now,
your dock
is in sight,
and you must
descend to the car deck,
and ready yourself
to clank over the metal planks
on your way
to greet Charles
and the cats.
Glenn Buttkus April 2008
I hope you forgive my artistic license, my assumption that I could see you there on that ferry deck.
Glenn
Doug Palmer said,
April 24, 2008 @ 7:17 am
“Rockettes of ridges”
Beautiful pun.
I’ll never be able to look out my window again without seeing the Cascades, scantily clad, arms around each other, high-kicking in unison.
Alex Shapiro said,
April 24, 2008 @ 10:15 am
Thanks guys!
Steve: for educating me– I actually had read somewhere that Mt. Baker was about 300 miles east of Friday Harbor, but even that seems too far. Mea Culpa; I will log onto that all-time favorite, Google Earthling, and plot out the actual distance as the ferret flies;
Glenn: for your boundless poetic offerings; always sensual, obliquely sexual, and impassioned;
Doug: for seeing what I see the way I see it.
🙂
A