PRELUDE IN D MAJOR, OP. 23 NO. 4

In this third edition of Music Meditations, I am performing Sergei Rachmaninov’s Prelude in D Major, Op. 23 No. 4. Close in mood and form to the Bolcom piece from the first edition of the series, there is a recognizable structure to the prelude. It follows a pattern of A, A’, B, A”, with an extended phrase at the end. A simple melody permeates the work, and it is presented within increasingly intricate textures as the work unfolds. At the end of the contrasting B section, there is a dramatic buildup that leads to the final iteration of the original melody. After that last statement, the music winds down to a quiet and peaceful end.

One of the comforting things about form is that it provides a security into which we can relax as we listen, not unlike the practice of ritual. We don’t need to guess or wonder about what comes next, but instead, we can interact with what is. Artists, particularly those who work in the temporal arts (music, dance, theatre), are aware of a certain paradox: while the art form is happening in time, it is possible to enter spaces that create ‘timelessness’—joining us all to something outside of our normal experience. If and when this alchemy occurs, we can touch the all-too-elusive present moment, which separates us from the past and the future. This glimpse might just be the threshold of the infinite.