Winds of Memory Teodoro Aparicio Barberan

After nearly two years of total creative inactivity due to a series of state of mind circumstances that led me to a total lack of motivation, I did not think it would be possible to tackle such a project again. It is true that it is in the adverse situations that you find the real friends and the best. Each of them bringing the best in themselves in order to rescue you from the melancholy and gloomy corner in which one sets himself up when he loses his way. Looking for a common thread to throw away from, I asked my dear friend Paco Santonja to write me a poem related to memories and the footprints they leave on each of us. As it could not be otherwise (those who know this prolific learned person understand me perfectly), Paco gave me the poem in just ten days. Even though I was sure he would do a great job, I cannot deny that I was really overwhelmed by the depth of the text. I will not enter into superfluous reflections on the poem. I'd rather you read it. You will understand why my explanations are unnecessary.

Vientos de la Memoria (Winds of Memory)

Poem by Francisco Santonja Davó

1) Riding on the winds of memory I found the candour of

childhood love, I heard from you, I revived the beautiful

memories of puberty, I dreamed of what I never had, I

wished the unattainable, I thought of achievements and

mistakes, right and wrong decisions, I learned to forgive,

though I could not forget.

2) I remembered the maxim of my elders: "Nothing given is

well valued." I knew that your imperfection and mine made

us better, that human perfection lies in love and humility,

that only fools think they are perfect, that we, all of us, are

perishable, in everything.

3) And I understood friendship, remembering friends of

yesteryear , those who left and those who came. Everything

eternal, volatile, ephemeral. Arrhythmic composition,

distorted, substitute of love, sometimes exalted virtue: "

Faithful friendship is priceless and its value is incalculable"

4) Before you fell into forgetfulness, I knew you would

understand that I love you more than ever , that I adore you,

that I need you, I can't help with what is happening to you,

that you have already given to me all the best , that I would

love you until the end of my life because it only dies what we

forget .

5) Walking through life I learned not to judge, I struggled to

be humble, faithful, loyal, honest, to wish for others what I

wanted for myself, to walk the path that leads to wisdom

from doubts, from the continuous search, from the eternal

human imperfection.

6) Winds of memory: ephemeral, overwhelming, persistent,

plausible, forgettable... they are all part of our personality. All

those winds chiseled our story: of bonanza, decay, optimism,

pessimism, strength or weakness, they all forged our life

cycle.

The play is not a programmatic work. It simply outlines, with all the harmonic and timbre resources which I have considered consistent for this occasion, each corner of the text as if it were a cluster of sensations , sometimes convergent, others diagonally opposite. Each of the poem's six stanzas serves as a creative germ for the six sections in which the work is divided, although these are interpreted uninterruptedly. In many cases, melodic drawings are blurred appearing as pillars of the composition different harmonic structures, whose purpose is to produce different expressive but not descriptive scenarios.

- Paragraph 1: Bar 1 to 170

- Paragraph 2: Bar 171 to 260

- Paragraph 3: Bar 261 to 377

- Paragraph 4: Bar 378 to 447

- Paragraph 5: Bar 448 to 568

- Paragraph 6: Bar 569 to 647