bartok-feeling

September 4, 2024

All my music is in the first place a matter of feeling and instinct. Do not ask me why I have written thus and not otherwise. I can give only one answer to this: I wrote the way I felt.

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Thought:

“Our works in stone, in paint, in print, are spared, some of them, for a few decades or a millennium or two, but everything must finally fall in war, or wear away into the ultimate and universal ash — the triumphs, the frauds, the treasures and the fakes. A fact of life: we’re going to die. “Be of good heart,” cry the dead artists out of the living past. “Our songs will all be silenced, but what of it? Go on singing.” Maybe a man’s name doesn’t matter all that much.”

Orson Welles

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