Detlef Weinrich
Jours de grève
Imagine Prometheus, the thief of fire, the father of civilization, had been spellbound by the sirens chanting and never felt pain, when the eagle bit his liver. Total enchantment, created by sound to overcome the pain of existence. A sound, styled by the ideal harmony of body and soul. And yet, the pain is still there, hidden between the notes, driving a romantic vision of salvation.
If Prometheus could have translated his fictitious epiphany into singing, it might sound like Ghédalia Tazartès’s…