The Luthier Alone in His Workshop tells the story of a solitary old violin maker who, when he is fixing a violin, suddenly decides to play it in his shop. He plays a song by Johan Sebastian Bach. The music fills the room, and when he stops, there is an echo, then silence.
The poem’s written in free verse.
Amid vacuousness,
vagueness, silence
ear to horsehair strings
(pluck, pluck, twing)
The luthier: polar, hoary hair
rivuleted, waxen face
planes, calipers, chisels
ebony bench
Sigggggghhhhhhh…..
stands, nestles, adjusts, lifts
bow strikes strings
(saw, pling, pling)
tattoo of sound
exequy of hush
a roaring, a splendor!
a workshop suffused.
(pling, saw saw, rush, whine orble, fade, seern, seeOyurn)
(pluck, pluck) hearken (saw) hearken (pluck, pluck) tune
(saw, neeor, seeor, zhhhh)
inhale
exhale
inhale
exhale
J.S. Bach
Partita No. 3 in E Major, BWV 1006: VII.
Gigue.
Resonance, reverberation decamp
ultimate echo.
David Murphy 