Do you ever find yourself making a trite remark, uttering it as if it were fresh or profound?

Who, me? Ever? Are you kidding?

If you follow these weekly messages, you know that I occasionally gush platitudes.

So be it.

As Thornton Wilder wrote, "If we shrink from platitudes, platitudes will shrink from us.”

I’d sooner risk being termed a cheese-ball by my family, my students and my friends than remain stoically wordless about The Eternal Verities.

Here is today’s platitude:

The universe, near and far, past and future, is a vast gorgeous, intricate tapestry, ceaselessly woven and rewoven, every thread of which is simultaneously ancient and new.

My prose, such as it is, can carry the thought that far but, in his lovely book, The Cabin Down the Glen, Odell Shepard says it so much better:

"The silent looms that weave the world's beauty never linger, never pause.”

To me, that’s a magical sentence and one that demands to be sung.

My setting, for four-part chorus and piano, begins with the last four words, “Never linger, never pause,” words that seem to enjoin us to be ceaselessly active. But those words are not a command and they do not refer to us; they refer to the silent looms on which the endless tapestry is perpetually woven. The one who never lingers, never pauses, is the implied Weaver, not us.

The music, too, is far from suggesting frenetic activity; it is meditative, wistful, radiant, hypnotic. The opening phrase, the singing of those four words, is an ostinato, repeated many times throughout the piece while, in counterpoint to that phrase, the rest of the thought is developed and explored.

Almost all the recordings I’ve shared with you in the past three years have been professional. This one is not, more’s the pity. I wish I had a perfect gem of a recording of this piece to share with you, but this is the only one I’ve got, the best I can offer. If you don’t listen to this recording, with all its faults, you will probably never hear this piece at all.

Perhaps by following the PDF of the score, you will be able to hear beyond the recording and perceive the piece itself, shining through. Consider it good exercise for your listening muscles.

To hear Cincinnati’s October Festival Choir sing The Endless Tapestry under the direction of Chris Miller, click on the link above.

To see a PDF of the score, click on the link above.

Rick Sowash
Cincinnati, OH
May 21, 2017

🎶 🎶 🎶 🎶 🎶

Call it what you will -- the Universe, the Mind of God, the Great Whatever -- is a vast, gorgeous, intricate tapestry, ceaselessly woven and rewoven. Every thread is unimaginably ancient, yet new as yester-second.

Sometimes I wish I were a painter, expressing that idea in colors and shapes. Instead, I’m a composer using the “colors and shapes” of music, a writer using the “colors and shapes” of words.

My prose skills can carry that thought only so far. In his lovely book, The Cabin Down the Glen, the writer Odell Shepard expresses that same idea more simply, more clearly, more melodiously:

"The silent looms that weave the world's beauty never linger, never pause.”

That sentence begs to be sung.

My setting of it, for four-part chorus plus flute, clarinet, bassoon and piano, begins, after a brief introduction, with the men singing those last four words, “Never linger, never pause.”

At first, those four words seem to summon us to ceaseless activity. Look again. Those words are not directed at us, nor do are they a command.

The words refer to the silent looms on which the endless tapestry of Reality is perpetually woven. It is not WE who "never linger, never pause.” It is the implied, unnamed Weaver, tireless and eternal, who never lingers, never pauses.

The music, far from suggesting frenetic activity, is meditative, hypnotic, almost static. The opening phrase, the singing of those four words, becomes an ostinato, repeated throughout. In counterpoint to that phrase, the rest of the thought is developed and explored.

Only a few hundred people have heard my setting of Shepard’s words: those in the audience when the piece was performed, twice, by Cincinnati's October Festival Choir.

When I wrote the piece in 2007 I scored it for voices and piano. When OFC founder Chris Miller decided to reprise the piece in last October’s concert, he asked me to add the flute, clarinet and bassoon.

Being able to revise an earlier work is the composer's advantage over painters and writers. Once a painting is finished and sold, once a book is published, the painter / author can never again revise the work. But a composer can readily pick up a work written decades earlier and tinker with it, again and again.

Chris’ idea was apt; the addition of the wind trio suggests that there are two choirs singing this music: a choir of human voices and a wordless choir of wind instruments. It enriches the metaphor; it’s as if the wordless Universe participates in the music-making. That’s the whispered meaning of Shepard's hushed, mysterious text.

To hear Cincinnati’s October Festival Choir singing the revised version of The Endless Tapestry (with winds) under Chris Miller's direction, click on the link above.

To see a PDF of the score, click on the link above.

🎶 🎶 🎶 🎶 🎶

A mystic? It was not my goal.

Yet, here I am. A mystic.

May I describe, briefly, the path that led me here?

Our senses tell us that Reality is an endless tapestry, unfathomably intricate, intensely beautiful and beyond all hope of our comprehension of it. Here we stand for a little while, taking it all in, the universe and the twin eternities of time -- the past and the future -- stretching out in all directions.

To a mystic, that tapestry, that thing that is ceaselessly woven, that thing we call Reality, is a thin veil. What is on the other side of the veil is vast, vaster even than the universe and the twin eternities of time. It is the realm of all that might be, all that has not yet passed through to our side of the veil.

There are little rents in the veil. Through those rents come ideas.

Often I awake in the morning with a musical idea in my mind -- a few notes, a fragment of a melody, a catchy rhythm -- and I ponder the question of where that idea was before it entered my mind? It was on the other side of the veil. Now it is on this side.

The same may be said of all ideas, not only those of artists, scientists, inventors, but even the humblest of ideas. Surely all of us has said something like, “Hey! I’ve got an idea! How about if we pack a picnic and bring it along?” … even modest ideas like that one pass through the veil from the far side to our side.

Can ideas be coaxed through the veil, can we persuade them to come over to our side? How?

By doing the work.

“Inspiration exists,” Picasso said, “ … it finds you when you are working.”

Gifted with a tiny idea, we “do the work” by trying to perceive what the little idea wants to become. The idea soon shows us. It is active; it sets off and we follow. More ideas tumble through, each with their own notions of what they want to become and how they relate to the ideas that preceded them.

Slowly, over many years, we learn to give up our own notions and allow ourselves to be led by ideas as they fulfill their destiny. Then, when the work is done, we wait for the next idea to come through the veil.

I am not describing something I BELIEVE, like a tenet of faith or an article of doctrine or dogma. I am describing a FACT, something that I KNOW, after having been gifted with floods of ideas ever since I was little.

It goes on and on as it has done long before I arrived and as it will long after I am gone. Ceaselessly.

The American writer Odell Shepard, a composer who used words instead of pitches, expressed this idea thus:

"The silent looms that weave the world's beauty never linger, never pause.”

When I first read those words I felt that they must be sung. My setting for four-part chorus plus flute, clarinet, bassoon and piano begins, after a poignant introduction, with the men singing those last four words, “Never linger, never pause.”

At first, those four words seem at first to summon us to action. Look again. Those words are not directed at us, nor are they a command.

The words refer to the silent looms on which the endless tapestry of Reality is perpetually woven. It is not WE who "never linger, never pause.” It is the implied, unnamed Weaver, tireless and eternal, who never lingers, never pauses.

To hear the Chancel Choir of our Mt. Auburn Presbyterian Church singing “The Endless Tapestry” under Chris Miller's consummate direction, copy and paste the link below into your browser. (That’s me in the back row, the old guy with the white beard and mustache who can’t stand still.) The piece begins at 26:41.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m53x-qe5i20

To see a PDF of the score, click on the link above.

Take a look at the photo, at the bottom of this message, of Chris Miller and myself. Chris has been my close friend and an ardent champion of my music for more than 25 years.

I'd love to know what you think about this music; reply if you're inclined. But please don't feel that you are expected to reply. I'm just glad to share my work in this way.

As always, feel free to forward this message to friends who might enjoy it.

Anyone can be on my little list of recipients for these mpFrees (as I call these musical emails). To sign up, people can email me at rick@sowash.com, sending just one word: "Yes." I'll know what it means.

Rick Sowash
Cincinnati, OH
June 9, 2024

P.S. All of my compact disk recordings are now available on line through Kickshaw Records.

Please visit their website to purchase CDs of my music for $15 each plus shipping.

The latest CD, titled “Voyageurs,” features music for clarinet, cello and piano.

Profits from the sale of my CDs partially funds more recordings of my music, an expensive process. Buying my CDs, you are helping! Thank you!

To order CDs on line, copy and paste the link below:

https://kickshawrecords.com/shop/