Contrast

After working so late that I didn't get to the pub last night, I got home, poured a beer and put the TV on. Unsurprisingly, I found little of worth being broadcast, until I stumbled onto a programme on STV. Broadcast in Gaelic, it was documentary on traditional Gaelic singing, and featured two women - one young and in training, the other older and acting as tutor. The younger girl sang, unaccompanied, the most haunting song I may have ever heard - sparse, yet rich, rhythmically interesting, yet it flowed with such naturalness that every sound seemed utterly inevitable. Her voice was light, clear, but with a deep strength that was hard to define - tied to the land, to the sea, and a reflection of femininty in its purest form. That the song was in Gaelic, and I knew nothing of the literal meaning of the words, only emphasised the its content, and magnified its mysterious fairness. I sat transfixed, experiencing a beauty I've not encountered for some time. It recalled to me the words of Felix Mendelssohn that were recently brought to my attention. When he was asked "Do you write music to represent ideas that are too vague for words?" he replied "On the contrary - I use music to express ideas that are too precise for words."

Alas, this programme shortly ended, and was replaced by the monstrosity that is a live night-time phone-in roulette game. I went to bed.