Prometheus’ Pet Spark!

mp3:

This odd adventure - of stealing onto a demolition site as a building is in the process of being demolished, flute in hand - was awe-inspiring and incredible, and one I won’t be repeating in a hurry!

The unearthly sounds of the demolition, which provide accompaniment to the plaintive tune of ‘Jupiter’, by Gustav Holst, were profound and disturbing: the deep groaning vibrations of the building around me filled the air, suggesting the architectural moans that might have been felt within those towers on that fateful day, years ago.

The sudden discovery of a lone arc-welder, tall upon a ladder, his hissing splash and spray of sparks from where he was stationed behind a darkened doorway like a fire-spewing creature, completed the image of an oppressive hell-zone.

My situation was not so dire: I simply wanted to play my flute and get out without being caught! Why did this feel like such a peculiar transgression? Is it a crime to play the flute?!

In transit from my weekly work in one of a number of retirement homes to meet with students at the RCM, I had my excuses all formulated and quasi-rehearsed…with the roar and grumble of the machinery at a distance, and after tentatively testing recording levels in a cold, desolate and abandoned stairway, I soon realized that the demoltion crew, visible at work across the warehouse floor, must have some pretty serious ear protection, thereby freeing me to move closer to the action and re-assemble my flute with less fear of detection!

After playing as long a I dared, ‘conversing’ with the sounds of the demolition, I got out of there as stealthily as I had could, feeling like some David against Goliath, or that I had somehow slain a dragon, and I suddenly became aware of the taste and smell of the pervasive dust and acetelyne.

Just now, the image of the lone human figure in front of that puzzled tank in Tienaman Square springs to mind, the sound files in my little recorder clutched like the very idea of democracy, a voice of freedom facing down the machinery of change. Or perhaps the spray of the arc-welders torch provided me with something akin to Prometheus’ pet spark, and my flute, now packed away, like a sword wrested from stone - all emblematic talismans that I might carry with me in my exploration of a city in transition.

These SoundFiles are like gemstones retrieved from the depths of a forboding cave, the Urban Flute Project itself a labyrinth of unexplored chambers.

But in the end I suppose it’s not all so glamorous, and really just wonderfully simple: just me and my flute, out in the city…classical music needs revisiting and this is my reply, my partial answer to that contemporary enigma:what significance can music possibly serve in our modern world?

Oh, what brought me to this part of town in the first place?

I had stopped in next door at a wonderful bike and book shop up in the east side of town: Sandy’s Bikes & Books, 416-467-1035 (no e-mail!) - Sandy specializes in tandem bikes, and I encourage you to drop by to browse his incredible book collection, have a quick tune-up, or simply just to visit!

As it turns out, the very next day I found myself playing flute in another construction site, hard hat and all!