Between infinity and eternity

         (Originally posted on Jun 18, 2007 - 23:15)

         My grandfather lived in a farm several kilometers away from the city where I lived in Brazil.
In the farm's yard there was a big granite rock that used to be warm in the evening after basking in the sun the whole day.

         In clear nights I used to lay down at the top of the rock, looking up at the sky, admiring the stars.
         As the place was far away from the city the skies were dark and pinpricked with hundreds of thousands of stars and when I laid there and looked up, I would have nothing but darkness and stars in my field of view and then the illusion of being afloat in deep space was so real that I had to put my hands on the warm rock to reassure myself that I was still on Earth. The sensation was so exhilarating that after reassuring myself that I wouldn't fall into space I would lay motionless and concentrate on the stars just to feel it again.

         I am telling you this story because this is the closest analogy that I could find to another sensation that I want to talk about.
         The sensation that I feel when I hear a certain voice.

         I have never really liked soprano voices. I mean, I don't dislike them but I didn't like as much as I like baritone voices. I have this kind of "allergy" for high pitch sounds. But of course I've had my share of favorite soprano singers and the top names were Barbara Bonney, Kiri Te Kanawa and Emma Kirkby.
        When I was in Japan I've seen them live in concert, as well as Mirella Freni, Della Jones, Angela Gheorghiu and a few others.
         But even though they are all considered the best of the best, none moves me like this one single voice does.

         I'm talking, of course, of Elisabeta Marin.

         After the first time I've seen her on the stage of the National Opera in the evening of April, 29th I've been following her carreer and attending her every concert and I just can't get enough.
       I am surprised.
        Never in my life I've felt anything like what I feel when I hear her singing. The closest that I can get of an explanation is what I wrote in the beginning. It's not exactly like that but it's close and stronger.

         Whenever I hear her singing I feel my heart beating faster and faster sometimes so fast that I feel my hands go numb. My breathing also accelerates. The hair on my arms stand up and I feel a tingling sensation in my spine.

         And then what comes next is something that I can't explain properly because I am not a poet.
         It's a feeling like floating like a mote of dust in the morning sky, suspended somewhere between infinity and eternity, watching galaxies and suns and planets, life and consciousness evolving and perishing, atoms as massive as suns and universes smaller than atoms and all the wonders of the universe swirl in front of my eyes, drawn by the music of cosmic harmonies at the speed of light, but with a reassuring warm rock at my back.
         And in the exact moment that the aria ends I am hurtled back to Earth. Back among mortals again with an empty, longing feeling like thirst. Thirst to drink more from the fountain of her voice.

         And when she sings arias like Un Bel Di Vedremo or Vissi D'arte, it's like she pours pure, distilled longing and sadness over the foundations of the music and every time I drink from them I can't avoid gathering tears in my eyes. Running tears. Er... pouring, actually. Ok, I admit, I cry. I cry for I feel the sincere longing and sadness in her voice. I cry for I know the longing and the sadness that reside in the uncharted reaches of her pure heart. I cry for I know where this longing and sadness come from

e diedi il canto
agli astri, al ciel, che ne ridean più belli.
Nell'ora del dolore,
perché, perché Signore,
perché me ne rimuneri così?

         Like Tosca, she offered her singing to the starry heavens so that they might smile more brightly and I have asked myself why, O Lord, have you repaid her this way? For I see the brilliance of her talent wasted between the deaf walls of the national opera. I refer of course, not at the stage, for on stage she receives the recognition that she deserves from the public that loves her. I refer to the direction of the national opera, and I still need to summon titanic efforts to avoid any references to southern italian families.

         But it seems that fortune is finally turning her a smiling face for last week there was a contest in Galati: Concurs International de Canto “Dunarea Albastra” and I am very proud to announce that Miss Elisabeta Marin is the winner of the FIRST PRIZE and all the respect, privileges and admiration that come with it! It was the first edition of this contest and she won it! 
       This, ladies and gentlemen, is history in the making!
         And I am sure this is the first of the opportunities that will open to her because she deserves them.

  

 The winners of the International contest "Blue Danube": Elisabeta Marin, Adrian Marcan and Cristina Ioana Damian

         Dear Elisabeta,

         Happy birthday and congratulations for the result of the contest. I am sure this is probably one of the best birthday presents you could wish.
And well deserved it is for I know how hard you worked for it and I am very proud of you.

         I thank you for the joy that your singing and your friendship bring me.
You are the brightest star in our musical firmament and now that the doors for your bright future are open it's up to you to walk through them.