A PLAY WITH TRADITIONS // PART I // I LISTEN: ...ORNAMENTS ARE BREATHED
I listen...
Ornaments are breathed forewards. The fiddle sounds like a flute here. Light and airy.
Phrase endings are often turned upwards. A drone lies beneath, even and full.
The slått is fast gone.
The light timbre is still sounding.
The same gangar, another form, another fiddler.
He plays the pulse slower, pulling it backwards.
A steadiness in the even pressure of the bow. Always a higher speed into each weighty beat. The main motif is chiseled out in circles. Repetitions where every ending is different. Keeping us steady at the same place.
The overtones in that ornament. The moving in bow pressure. The timbre in that interval. How the rhythm slowly flows. The place he is, where he plays from.