Ah, but, Antonio, Pan pipe is innocent on its own, it can be considered just like all other musical instruments. It is somewhat strange to me that you associate it with Native Americans. In my mind, its contemporary version is basically Romanian. I remember Gheorghe Zamphir playing it as accompanied by a classical chamber orchestra under Agnieszka Duczmal. These were, very simply, excellent concerts. A virtuoso plus very good strings with an outstanding conductor. Delight to listen.
Your post has reminded me some sort of cult associated with a Polish poet and songwriter Edward Stachura, particularly visible in the eighties and beginning of nineties. Stachura (let me quote just two line from his prose - "we stood (sic) on our knees watching the rise of the Sunlet who is the only one to rival Death the Unrivalled"; "I will fight and defeat Death even though I may die at that") was a self-taught yogin and quasi-buddhist meditator. He died by suicide because "poisoned indeed is the fruit of shallow enlightenment". The cult associated with "guru Stachuru" has soon become sick, and that played some role in repelling many young people from spirituality as such. Of course, there came much more important, earth-shattering political and economical changes of 1989 which brought about the renaissance of the formal and primitive Polish "people's catholicism". But, in any case, it is the cult that was guilty, not Stachura himself. Similarly, please absolve the Pan pipe. :-)
It is with the heaviest of hearts that I write to you, so much so that I first sought ink and paper, fearing to burden the modern machine with my tears and remorse.
Your words have made me realize—alas!—I have committed Pan Pipe Hate Speech. This was never my intent, I assure you. No, my quarrel is not with the noble Pan Pipe or its virtuous Pan Pipers, but with a fleeting market—men of dubious intent who profited handsomely from their cheapened covers. Here lies no gold, no silver, no honour.
Admittedly, my memory may be tainted by the garish echoes of the 90s. The aesthetic of faux Native American garb looms large, though I now question whether it was real at all. What remains clear is the hollow sound that haunted me, and still does.
But in all this, I failed to defend the pan pipe itself—an instrument so haunting and pure when played with true heart. For this oversight, I must repent. I see no choice but to embark on a Pan Pipe Apology Tour, visiting the three unfortunate souls who’ve read my lament and offering them my sincerest regrets.
My friend, I hope this letter finds you well. I shall carry this lesson, like a reed in the wind, forevermore.
There was a time in my life when it seemed impossible to escape the sound of pan pipes. They were everywhere! I can only imagine the amount of repressed trauma this has produced.
Ah, but, Antonio, Pan pipe is innocent on its own, it can be considered just like all other musical instruments. It is somewhat strange to me that you associate it with Native Americans. In my mind, its contemporary version is basically Romanian. I remember Gheorghe Zamphir playing it as accompanied by a classical chamber orchestra under Agnieszka Duczmal. These were, very simply, excellent concerts. A virtuoso plus very good strings with an outstanding conductor. Delight to listen.
Your post has reminded me some sort of cult associated with a Polish poet and songwriter Edward Stachura, particularly visible in the eighties and beginning of nineties. Stachura (let me quote just two line from his prose - "we stood (sic) on our knees watching the rise of the Sunlet who is the only one to rival Death the Unrivalled"; "I will fight and defeat Death even though I may die at that") was a self-taught yogin and quasi-buddhist meditator. He died by suicide because "poisoned indeed is the fruit of shallow enlightenment". The cult associated with "guru Stachuru" has soon become sick, and that played some role in repelling many young people from spirituality as such. Of course, there came much more important, earth-shattering political and economical changes of 1989 which brought about the renaissance of the formal and primitive Polish "people's catholicism". But, in any case, it is the cult that was guilty, not Stachura himself. Similarly, please absolve the Pan pipe. :-)
I am, my friend, respectfully yours,
JKiii
My Dearest Maciej,
It is with the heaviest of hearts that I write to you, so much so that I first sought ink and paper, fearing to burden the modern machine with my tears and remorse.
Your words have made me realize—alas!—I have committed Pan Pipe Hate Speech. This was never my intent, I assure you. No, my quarrel is not with the noble Pan Pipe or its virtuous Pan Pipers, but with a fleeting market—men of dubious intent who profited handsomely from their cheapened covers. Here lies no gold, no silver, no honour.
Admittedly, my memory may be tainted by the garish echoes of the 90s. The aesthetic of faux Native American garb looms large, though I now question whether it was real at all. What remains clear is the hollow sound that haunted me, and still does.
But in all this, I failed to defend the pan pipe itself—an instrument so haunting and pure when played with true heart. For this oversight, I must repent. I see no choice but to embark on a Pan Pipe Apology Tour, visiting the three unfortunate souls who’ve read my lament and offering them my sincerest regrets.
My friend, I hope this letter finds you well. I shall carry this lesson, like a reed in the wind, forevermore.
Yours,
Antonio Pipetonio de GooGoo Baluga
There was a time in my life when it seemed impossible to escape the sound of pan pipes. They were everywhere! I can only imagine the amount of repressed trauma this has produced.