STRING QUARTET, a vision

STRING QUARTET—a vision

The program announced the final piece: Beethoven's

opus 130 No. 13, the final movement, the "Große Fuge."

Two violins, sitting across from each other.

In the center, viola and cello, side by side.

The four performers are robots.

Two men. Two women.

All four are good looking. All four have black hair.

Their instruments all have at least a six figure pedigree.

All four are dressed in concert black.

Black is the color of modern music.

Black in modern music is not the color of a funeral,

or of mourning, or of loss.

Black is the color of background, sharp contrast,

bright theatrical light.

We wish to see the movements of fingers and arms.

Of bows and tapping feet.

The robots are good. Very good.

The program says they beat "the chess masters of music."

They play their Beethoven fugue with great clarity.

All those dotted rhythms. All those dissonances.

All those incessant up and down bows. Sustained strettos.

Their eyes watch each other intently. Closely.

No need for music.

Their memory is good. "Very good," says the program.

Always together. Always in tune.

The program says they look and act "remarkably human."

Expressions. Movements. Even a hint of smiles can be seen.

The audience continues to look around.

There's a sense of polite yet uneasy disbelief.

The dark, formal, evening air is filled with discrete whispering.

The quartet of robots strikes a chord. A deep chord.

Premonitions, of strings stretched tight,

of strings stretched tight with the fear of strangers,

strangers speaking dialects without accent,

without even the slightest suspicion of natives.

"Uniquely singular,"

says, the program.

| download mp3 {5.5 Mb] STRING QUARTET |