[powerpress]
Mira’s beautiful post this morning about winter struck a nerve with me.
I marvel at her ability to celebrate rebirth, welcome surprises, and plan to keep molding her lump of clay. I usually feel that way myself—I’m having a great life, and I’m looking forward to seeing how the rest of it plays out. But today I find myself wanting to bake my lump of clay hard, in this lovely shape it has today, not wanting any surprises.
I know she’s right. That’s not how this lifetime works, and I need to go on molding and rolling with the surprises.
So this is a kaddish for a lump of clay.
Cara, I can hear you crying — or is that me? This was very beautiful. Very sweet and heartbreaking. But here’s the thing: this IS your lump of clay, and you mold it and re-mold it. Maybe I talk about it, but look at you: a Kogan’s Kaddish every single day! Shaped and reshaped. That’s what you musicians do!
You know how to do this. You’ve been training your whole life for it. Someone says flippantly, oh yeah, how ’bout we call it ‘kaddish in two-part harmony’ — and what do you do? You mold it and shape it and you bring it to life. And Kogan is reborn each morning. Don’t tell me you don’t know how to do rebirth!
This is a particularly beautiful Kaddish. It’s so different than how you played it for 20 years.
Ah, Deb — I’d like to hear more about how this one differs from Erin’s playing it long ago.
Go back and listen to the first few. The rhythm is different, the way the notes are held/played, the spaces and silences are different. Much more subtle now. Generally slower and gentler. It’s clear that Erin knows the piece with increasing intimacy. But what I noticed first is the rhythm; the triplets are much more prominent now, and I like that.