Tchaikovsky: Serenade for Strings in C, Op. 48 – III. Elégie: Larghetto elegiaco. Poem by Stephen Andrew
Staring at nothing/But sleep’s petulant absence./Most nights were like this/Toward the end.
CHRIST THE KING by CLARE MACLEAN Story by Ria Andriani
It’s like seeing a tapestry in the dark – there’s beauty, but there’s also a great deal of uncertainty. And I didn’t know which thread I was supposed to embody.
MORNING MOOD by EDVARD GRIEG Fiction by Mir-Yashar Seyedbagheri
The music conjures images of a new person. A person who can smile, laugh, interact.
Rachmaninoff: Piano Concerto no.2 op.18 Story by Luke R Davies
The love of any form of art is always a subjective thing. What is cool is an art form that can take you to a new level of appreciation of another art form.
A WHITER SHADE OF PALE by PROCUL HARUM Story by Luke Davies
I was like another brother to Jessica. She fancied my band mates more than me, so that was bit of a drag. We did share a love for one particular song, though.
The Sun God by William G James and Aubrey De Vere
The Sun God is a mystery to me. I have never heard it and I have not been able to find any recording of it anywhere.
THE MOONLIGHT SONATA BY LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN Story by Nimity James
Nimity James Theodor W. Adorno, the German philosopher, said we don’t understand music. Rather, music understands us.
Prelude: Song Of The Gulls and Islands by King Crimson
Vin Maskell Geelong, 1971, Melbourne 1974 My eldest brother didn’t own many records. If my memory serves me well, the albums he listened to were by The Beatles, a rebel country songwriter, some Dylan and Clapton, a little art rock, and some English pop by a red-headed protégé of Elton John.
Für Elise by Ludwig van Beethoven
Carrye Harris Jaunay-Clan, France 1961 A hospital, Texas, 1981 Spring Branch, Texas 2016 I made my way to the hospital elevators, rode down to the main floor in silence. Stopped, went into the gift shop. Glanced through the paperbacks, trailed fingers across book spines, moved on to magazines, past newborn gifts, cut flowers in vases, live plants in ceramic dishes. I stopped at a display of small gift items at the back of the store.
Sheep May Safely Graze by JS Bach
Clare Boyd-Macrae Brunswick, Melbourne, April 2015 Bach, more than any other composer I know, makes me feel that everything will come out right in the end. Other composers were tormented souls; Bach seems to be a benign and contented family man with his 20 children, his round face and avuncular wig.