Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Harmony of disenchantment
    Harmony of disenchantment
    Harmony of disenchantment
    Ebook121 pages2 hours

    Harmony of disenchantment

    By Rosario Di Petta

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    The look of a disenchanted neapolitan violinist is the thread that connects the nodes of its existence. The magic of Budapest as a backdrop to the sinking of his illusions; yet it is precisely the ability to react to any defeat will make him a kind of skillful surfer, able to ride the waves most impressive. In this eternal resume lies, perhaps, the harmony that governs his life.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRosario Di Petta
    Release dateOct 15, 2014
    ISBN9786050327359
    Harmony of disenchantment

    Related to Harmony of disenchantment

    Related ebooks

    Europe Travel For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      My Friend Juniper

      Apr 5, 2023

      My Friend Juniper
      24 min read

    • Article

      Harmonies

      Aug 13, 2019

      Harmonies
      5 min read

    • Article

      Cricket League

      Apr 1, 2020

      Linden, age 9 Green Bay, WI Ophidia, the medusa, tried desperately to sketch a self-portrait. Later she would add color. Her problem was every time she looked into the lake at her reflection, the snakes of her hair were in a very different place. Sh

      8 min read

    • Article

      On Bach

      Dec 1, 2022

      On Bach
      13 min read

    • Article

      Finding Flow

      Sep 6, 2022

      Finding Flow
      7 min read

    • Article

      Notes From Childhood

      Apr 18, 2023

      Notes From Childhood
      7 min read

    • Article

      The Art of Poetry No. 109

      Sep 8, 2020

      The Art of Poetry No. 109
      31 min read

    • Article

      Katharine Kilalea

      Dec 15, 2017

      Katharine Kilalea
      37 min read

    • Article

      Nyokabi Kariuki

      May 2, 2023

      Nyokabi Kariuki
      9 min read

    • Article

      Creation From Nothing

      Jul 23, 2021

      Creation From Nothing
      2 min read

    • Article

      In The Palace Of Forgetting

      Jan 1, 2023

      In the spring of 2019, poet Matthew Kelsey suffered the loss of his mother. Less than a year later, he would lose his father to COVID-19. The following is a poem-interview between Keith Leonard (questions) and Matthew Kelsey (answers) that began in J

      12 min read

    • Article

      Abel Selaocoe: ‘As An African Cellist, I’ve Always Been Looking For A Home’

      Jul 24, 2022

      Abel Selaocoe walks into a bar in King’s Cross, London, with a small suitcase and a large, curvaceous silver case. “I’m sorry, sir, but you’re going to have to put that in the cloakroom,” the waitress says. “I can’t – it’s my life,” Selaocoe exclaims

      5 min read

    • Article

      Ros Auld

      Nov 8, 2017

      Ros Auld
      4 min read

    • Article

      Old Gods. New Tricks

      Apr 1, 2022

      Old Gods. New Tricks
      9 min read

    • Article

      Robert Andrew

      Jul 1, 2022

      Robert Andrew
      8 min read

    • Article

      Accordion Lessons with Nico

      Jul 7, 2021

      Accordion Lessons with Nico
      6 min read

    • Article

      Yellow Summer Rain

      May 19, 2022

      Yellow Summer Rain
      23 min read

    • Article

      Memorizing and Memory: A Writer’s Estranged Cousins

      May 2, 2019

      Oh, but daddy could speak. His words are emblazoned on my memory. They land on the pages I write—ubiquitous, textured, yet not easy to digest. The post Memorizing and Memory: A Writer’s Estranged Cousins appeared first on The Millions.

      6 min read

    • Article

      Uèle Lamore

      Feb 24, 2021

      When Uèle Lamore arrived at Boston’s Berklee College of Music in 2013, she was looking for something a little… different. Bored with rock, jazz and pop, she decided that it was time to experiment. She wanted to hang out with weirdos and push music to

      9 min read

    • Article

      The Art of Poetry No. 106

      Dec 15, 2019

      The Art of Poetry No. 106
      30 min read

    • Article

      The Portrait

      Mar 1, 2018

      I WAS BORN almost completely deaf, and by the time I was seven I had already become a prisoner to my education. In the morning, I had speech therapy and tutoring with Mr. Bishop. We sat at my family’s long dining-room table, which was always covered

      9 min read

    • Article

      A Life Less Ordinary

      May 19, 2023

      A Life Less Ordinary
      8 min read

    • Article

      A class APART

      Sep 2, 2021

      A class APART
      6 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Harmony of disenchantment

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Harmony of disenchantment - Rosario Di Petta

      Rosario Di Petta

      Harmony of disenchantment

      UUID: cffbab6e-5471-11e4-afcc-ed5308d36374

      This ebook was created with BackTypo (http://backtypo.com)

      by Simplicissimus Book Farm

      Table of contents

      Fortunately, it is a mistake to think that because you can not define can not even be treated; if so, we could not speak nor life, nor art.

      E. Gombrich

      One morning like so many others, lived next to his passion, including evidence exhausting and endless, yet the time seemed to flow so fast, without pausing, accompanied only by the sound of the strings of a violin. For a violinist of the orchestra is essential to find the right combination of sound with that of their colleagues in the row; In short, it's like a great team effort that requires the highest individual concentration. Oscar Troise had dedicated his entire life to the instrument; and after graduating from the Conservatory of Santa Cecilia in Rome and the high degree of perfection, had attended numerous master classes in Italy and abroad, including the University Mozarteum Salzburg, the Academy W. Stauffer in Cremona, with the Maestro Salvatore Accardo, getting a scholarship in chamber music at the Music Academy Chigi of Siena.  

      He had also carried out an intense soloist and orchestra, performing in the major concert halls in the world: La Scala in Milan, the San Carlo of Naples, at the Musikverein in Vienna, at the Bolshoi in Moscow, at the Coliseum in Buenos Aires, Argentina at the Teatro Rome Opera in Budapest. He was also played by the most direct Conductors such as Riccardo Muti, Sinopoli, Gerghiev, Chung, De Burgos, Z. Mheta, L. Berio, and won several awards in international competitions. It was, finally, become tenured professor of violin at the Conservatory of San Pietro a Majella in Naples.

      Oscar, however, was dissatisfied with himself and the world; had seen so much corruption mechanisms strange careers of many colleagues, patterns of interpersonal relationships that lead people to achieve professional success very valid, that others are foreclosed. Probably he had dreamed something different for his life, and the daily grind of teaching at the Conservatory, beyond the strong passion for his favorite instrument, for music, and for the chance to teach it to young students, leaving several margins of imperfection in the design of life that, at least vaguely, had foreshadowed.

      One day in December, Oscar was engaged in his work as a professor at the Conservatory of Naples, and taking advantage of the beautiful day of sunshine that warmed the air of a winter Neapolitan anything but cold, she was out with an advance from his penthouse via Monte of God, to enjoy a nice walk through the streets of the city center, as always crowded with people busy in shopping, or simply directed to the workplace. He had stopped for a coffee in the usual bar inside the Galleria Umberto, and then he crossed the town hall square, Piazza Matteotti, then via Monte Oliveto and Piazza del Gesù, then up along Via San Sebastiano, and thus attain to Conservatory of San Pietro a Majella.

      In the classroom reserved for the course of violin pupils were almost all present, and standing a few steps beyond the door, the unknown face of a girl, never seen before, which attracted inevitably her attention. After a few moments, it was she to come forward and, with safe air, showed:

      << Enjoyment, my name is Iris Maiuri, a graduate student in architecture, and I wish I could talk to her, my thesis on the relationship between architecture and music >>.

      << Enjoyment, are Oscar Troise, first of all congratulations for choosing the theme, very interesting. If you want, we can talk about it at the end of my >> lesson.

      << Okay, thank you! So I sit there in the back of the classroom, and I witness with pleasure to his lesson; so I'll have more ideas for our >> conversation, the girl said, sounding proud and ostentatious security up to capacity.

      Oscar smiled embarrassed and walked quickly toward the chair, leaning over her purse and her jacket. He turned towards students:

      << Good morning, today we'll see how they develop the notes on a staff that has as its musical key the key of Sol; and we will do it by composing them from those that appear on the lines, the spaces, high above the lines, bottom lines below ... and finally all together, one behind the other >>.

      The presence of Iris distracted him, that his eyes had bewitched crystalline, and now did not know how to handle this emotional state. What would he say shortly thereafter? Why is that girl from the eyes of an indescribable green, had chosen him to ask for clarification on a subject so complex? Perhaps this was simply the first class of the Conservatory where she had come, he thought, without too many illusions. What a mess in his mind; began to reflect on the fact that, in the end, it was a long time since I felt so many mixed feelings. Passed quickly over an hour, and his thoughts the music was suddenly become a sideshow; incredibly, that to which he had devoted his life suddenly did not play more of the same importance.

      The look fluid and the jaunty air of the unknown girl had sent restlessness, desire to live, and a great curiosity, perhaps never experienced so far. Who was Iris? Where did she live? It will have a boyfriend for sure, beautiful as it is, Oscar thought, hurrying to close the lesson, and returning students the following day.

      Iris was just outside the door, from behind, talking on his cell phone, laughing and gesturing at the beginning, then he became more serious, lowered his voice, and he was leaning with one shoulder against the door frame. Oscar could now see the profile rangy, and those slight movements of his hand in to touch his hair. Then, almost suddenly, she turned toward him, even though he was continuing his phone conversation. Oscar had no doubt: it was beautiful, a disarming beauty.

      The indescribable color of those transparent eyes lit up a face traits almost perfect, with a small nose, thin face that seemed almost to belong to Constance Bonarelli, the woman he loved, and then carved out a memorable bust by Gian Lorenzo Bernini; and a full mouth, very well designed, that every smile, stretched in a slight curve.

      Iris lived with his parents on the outskirts of Pompeii, in a house, with a large garden. He was ambitious, he knew to be beautiful, smart, intelligent; and wanted the best for him and his future. He chose to study architecture, imagining a successful professional instant, without the necessary apprenticeship to anyone; and was projected to obtain the maximum results with minimum effort. His emotional experiences they had, moreover, convinced that this was largely possible. Her boyfriends were mostly children of rich families, who had promptly offered everything you could wish for, abituandola to a very high standard of living; and educating them to a way of compromise, which had refined more and more, thanks to a cunning, which was not, of course, free.

      Instantly, he had caught in the gaze of Oscar desire, interest, the thrill of emotion sudden and unexpected; and wanted to use everything to get useful tips on their thesis, but also to support its vanity, as it was already huge.

      The call of Iris had closed, in the meantime, with a loud laugh from her, waving, so extremely affectionate, his interlocutor, a mysterious Giancarlo. Everything had already projected Oscar to a strange feeling of jealousy. Sitting at his desk, the violinist now pretended to put in place the sheets in his bag, and, with one eye, followed every movement of the girl. Now the front of him, sitting on the other side of the chair; she had not even asked for permission to be able to accommodate. He was there with a smile and the look in those eyes, in which everything seemed destined to be granted.

      Here <<, then ... I said, I'm Iris Maiuri; and I'm preparing my thesis in architecture, entitled Architecture and Music. Do not know where to start; and so I thought that she could give me some suggestions ... I'm sorry to bother you, perhaps in a hurry to go home >> said the girl, using his usual manners of circumstances.

      << No, never mind, do not bother me at all ... in fact I is proposing to think about a topic very beautiful and interesting, albeit complex. The first thing that comes to my mind is that music and architecture are two forms of communication that have much in common. In music we talk about harmony, balance, proportion, rhythm: they are expressions that we find in the same way also in architecture. The architecture is aimed at all our senses, and through them, are formed and discard always new spaces. The melody is a set of fragments, of tones related between them or fragments of space sequential inseparable, according to the known theories of Bergson. Here, the discussion is broad, but it all depends on where you want to go, and which path you want to follow ... so research thesis which aims to demonstrate >>.

      Oscar felt satisfied now. Those few concepts that he remembered, on the relationship between architecture and music, he had exhibited with some clarity; had noticed that Iris was kidnapped by his words; and he probably wants to organize a new meeting, in an orderly framework, the arguments just mentioned the violinist.

      << Interesting, well ... I might start to investigate the melody understood as a set of fragments. She is so kind of you to dedicate this time; and I would, occasionally, to have an exchange of views on my thesis, but I realize its commitments, and I would hate to create them more >> disorder, said the girl, with obsequious tone, and with the knowledge that he had raised the 'attention and interest of the violinist, who promptly replied:

      << This short time spent in his presence, to talk about what I love, is a gift for me ... and I would say that we can tu, because, after all, we are colleagues in the arts ... it's architecture or music, our interests coincide in some way. If you like, we can keep in touch, and maybe, in some time, see each other again. I leave you my phone number >>.  

      Oscar << Okay, let us feel every so often, for so I feel more confident in proceeding in this study. Now I have to go, there is Giancarlo waiting for me to Piazza Matteotti, a friend of mine who is

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1