CANCIÓN ÚLTIMA (LAST SONG)
In this song, the approach to the text is the next step away from the spoken text. Like with Verrà la morte e avrà i tuoi occhi, I used an already existing poem, in this case by Miguel Hernandez, a Spanish poet.
The poem is already very strong as a text, the words create a cadence by themselves, a certain pace. The context and the theme that surrounds it have an important weight since it talks about how after the horror of the war, the rawness, the despair of death, there's always a place, small as it is, for hope. The author is asking, begging for the hope to stay. Miguel Hernandez wrote this poem while being in jail, in the context of the years after the Spanish civil war, and the subsequent dictatorship that followed. So having the main focus on the words was still important.
When I first took the poem, I sat and sang it, and after a few adjustments, I had the melody. Having such a powerful text I wanted the rawness of the words to be seen and heard. I wanted it to have that austerity that there is in a single line of melody, that nakedness of the spoken voice. Only the human voice, exposed in their human frailty.
This song connects me to tradition, to the almost magical ritual of using music to reach further, in this case, to ask for courage, for help, for a future. It’s almost like an incantation to be able to maintain faith, to believe that change is possible. The melody has also the sound of what could be an old traditional song, with its repetitions connected to the verses and the lyrical intervals.
In connection to the feeling of tradition, I decided to use the drum, specifically a square drum, a traditional instrument from the north of Spain. The drum doesn’t take away the emphasis on the voice, but it’s there, bonded to the land, as a constant pulse, a constant reminder. Like the voice of the ancestors, of everything that was once there and doesn’t exist anymore; the voice of what’s been lost.
When we played it, we were sitting in front of each other, very still, staring at each other, like mirrors. I imagined it as a picture of that solemnity. When the most terrible of things have happened, you can only sit, look at the other, accept, and sing.
