The shepherd stays on the rock throughout the duration of this opus. One wonders if, in the composer’s mind, this shepherd – the Romantic artist and visionary’s Zeitgeist -- was like a member of a dying Native American tribe – the ‘seers’ of the far distant American continent, those that live in respect of Nature, as Eusabio did.

The clarinet:   the wordless voice of Nature, the echo (vibration) of the shepherd’s song, the emotional background of the shepherd along, with the helpful piano accompaniment.

The Rock (der Fels) – the vantage point whence the shepherd (artist) sees the world below. At such heights with so much pure untouched space around, he is in the cosmos .  I remember many happy hours in the Austrian Alps when I felt as a privileged dot in the great vastness. “The Sanctuary – It was more different than a mountain fastness; more lonely, more stark and grim more appealing to the imagination.  The Rock, when one came to think of it, was the utmost expression of human need; even mere feeling yearned for it. . .the Hebrews of the Old Testament, always being carried captive into foreign lands, --their rock was an idea of God, the only thing their conquerors could not take from them. . .The Ácomas, who must share the universal human yearning for something permanent, enduring, without shadow of change,--they had their idea in substance.  They actually lived upon their Rock”***

Was it not a cave, if my ancient memory serves me, where Neitzsche’s Zarathustra would retreat to in order to reclaim his soul in solitude and then report back to his followers what ancient knowledge was vibrating von unten, from below, whence his messages were gleaned?   True, Zarathustra’s particular cave was in a high mountain, but transposition sometimes is necessary in music, in writing and in thinking; it’s in the depths of the cavern where the deeper meaning is stored – whether the cavern be elevated as Z’s or subterranean as the shepherd’s.

For this one old man, the cave is metaphor for the deepest part of self, the inner sanctum – our personal von unten, the sometimes dark and scary place we all must attune ourselves to from time to time before we can move on.  What key could be more appropriate than G^b major?

I dare further, in my old age, to listen to the wisdom of Mother Earth and Mother Nature with both big floppy esoteric ears.  Modern science and ancient wisdom needn’t be mutually exclusive and we needn’t accept only the documented scientific proofs.  They are important, but what an unbalanced emphasis we modern Westerners tend to give them.

The Song (das Lied)—Art, the fruit of the artist’s vision

The Voice (die Stimme) – the vibration of the shepherd’s (artist’s) song

The Echo (der Widerhall) – vibration/consciousness: what the Bible, the ancient mystics, quantum physicists and string theorists say we, all and everything are.

The Plot

Scene I:   A short introduction for piano solo:  like distant rumblings perhaps form the caverns; then the clarinet theme follows- the wordless voice of nature.  The shepherd is reveling as he finds himself as part of Nature.  He plays haplessly with his voice and its echo from those deep caverns, the message from below.

Scene II:   The shepherd turns from external Nature to the inniger thoughts of unattainable earthly love.  Perhaps he realizes that

+ . . life is a glorious cycle of song,
A medley of extemporanea;
And love is a thing that can never go wrong;
And I am Marie of Rumania.   --  Dorothy Parker

Pardon this digression:  He does believe that life is a glorious cycle of song, the rest he leaves to Ms. Parker and unrequited lovers everywhere. 

How at this point of writing I can hear my mother’s loud advice when young Isador was faced with dilemmas of unrequited love:  ‘either fix it or do something else, but the new indoor plumbing is not for you alone!!’  Apparently her words resounded through the time/space continuum and this shepherd may also have heard her bellowing voice echoing in the wild.  Dear mother, untumbled gem of the 19^th c., rest in peace.

The shepherd realizes that his art can turn hearts to heaven – the ‘aha’ revelation. 

A clarinet reiterates the essence of the last line- 

This is the tikkun olam – the ‘repair the world’ expression one finds in the Visa Lirica website. We either fix it or else our Western civilization is going down the toilet!

THIS THIS THIS THIS -- the beautiful and healing vibrations – the tikkun olam – mein Kind -- IS THE MISSION OF VISTA LIRICA.  Do the artists of this group or any other sincere artistic effort need to stand on their heads, concocting artificial marketing schemes in order to attain the privilege to perform?  Unfortunately, in this present time, when art and music are rarely taught in schools, and most people are aesthetically-challenged (to excerpt a popular euphemism) they do need to do this.

A note to the reader: you no longer need to use Mozart’s music to improve your brilliant child’s math scores.  Of this I am quite sure: you can feel free to listen to this music simply because it is beautiful.  I am old, and you can take my word for it!!!  The whole world has been led blind, cheering and headlong into a progressive state of distraction. Great music helps to lead the way out, MUSIC REVIVES THE WORLD as Ms. Onomé Ekeh wisely added to her work on the Vista Lirica website. |

*    *    *    *    *

Have faith, kind reader, for at this very moment I am sure that I am about to make an important point and not at all sure what that point will be -  klein Moment!! 

Is it an old man’s hiccough?   Alas, maybe not.

It is this:  We needn’t rely on any governmental central intelligence agency to connect the dots between John Ruskin, Schubert, Willa Cather, Hans Blix, Nietzsche, Verdi, Caspar Friedrich, Native Americans of New Mexico, Mohicans, quantum physicists and Sufi mystics, sheepherders and artists, greed for oil which sullies our skies and souls, das etwas krankener Schwarzwald and relegating Mozart for the advancement of infants’ technological skills; Romanticism and ecology. I leave the connecting work to our collective native intelligence and sensibilities.  Libera me!!!  Libera ci!!!

I humbly thank you for accompanying me on this journey.  Perhaps this is but musings of an old man.  Perhaps it is more. 

Yours,

Isador Hillyer.