a most lovely respite from what needs escaping. thank you.

"In search of peace" was the first track I wrote out of the upcoming "Sojourn" collection. I think it was initially titled "peaceful" or something to that effect... (plain and succinct!) The opening melody came about through a natural outworking of the restlessness I was feeling at the time... a restlessness probably felt by society as a whole between all the events of last year. I also like to joke that it was partly a tongue-in-cheek experiment—peaceful piano music has, for better or worse, become increasingly popular over the last number of years, and this style is generally completely contrary to the way in which I like to write. 

I sat down at the piano one day and wondered if I could (or should) attempt to come up with anything that fit that same feel. And so the opening melody was born; peaceful, sparse, minimal (and of course, later taking a turn for the dramatic as you can't completely outrun your natural tendencies!) What surprised me is that even though I still prefer a more volatile mood and intricate way of composing (as opposed to outright minimalism), it was exactly what I needed at the time—it was an honest response to where I was as both an artist and in my everyday. It also marked the end of a long season of writer's "drought" in my case... while I don't think I was suffering from writer's block, it had been a while since I was really motivated to work on my own craft in anything other than a functional capacity (for briefs, clients, and the like). Sometimes you just need a season of calm and rest; this track was that for me. I hope it will be that for you, too.

Sojourn

In search of peace

❤️ Buy Here

Fading Light

Screach - voice, lyrics, lead guitar during verses https://soundcloud.com/bobby-brady

Jonathan - lead guitar during bridge, initial music, instruments

Thanks Mike!

soul of the night (with Screach)

Let Evening Come

English lyrics:

The Deserter

Mr President, I am writing you a letter
That you will read, perhaps
If you have the time
I came to receive
My military papers
To go to the war
Last Wednesday evening
Mr President
I don't want to do that
I am not on this earth
To kill these poor people
It's not to make you angry
I must say to you
My decision is made
I am going to desert
 
Since I was born
I saw my father die
I saw my brothers leave
And my children cry
My mother has suffered so much
That she is inside her tomb
And she mocks bombs
And she mocks their targets
When I was a prisoner
You stole my wife from me
You stole my soul from me
And all dear to me passed
Tomorrow in the early morning
I will close my door
In the nose of the dead years
I will go down these paths
 
I will beg for my life
On the roads of France
Of Brittany and Provence
And I will say to people
Refuse to obey
Refuse to do it
Don't go to war
Refuse to leave
If you must give your blood
Go to give yours
You are a good apostle
Mr President
If you chase me
Tell your policemen
That I am not armed
And that they can shoot

Original lyrics:

Monsieur le Président
Je vous fais une lettre
Que vous lirez peut-être
Si vous avez le temps
Je viens de recevoir
Mes papiers militaires
Pour partir à la guerre
Avant mercredi soir
Monsieur le Président
Je ne veux pas la faire
Je ne suis pas sur terre
Pour tuer des pauvres gens
C'est pas pour vous fâcher
Il faut que je vous dise
Ma décision est prise
Je m'en vais déserter

Depuis que je suis né
J'ai vu mourir mon père
J'ai vu partir mes frères
Et pleurer mes enfants
Ma mère a tant souffert
Qu'elle est dedans sa tombe
Et se moque des bombes
Et se moque des vers
Quand j'étais prisonnier
On m'a volé ma femme
On m'a volé mon âme
Et tout mon cher passé
Demain de bon matin
Je fermerai ma porte
Au nez des années mortes
J'irai sur les chemins

Je mendierai ma vie
Sur les routes de France
De Bretagne en Provence
Et je dirai aux gens
Refusez d'obéir
Refusez de la faire
N'allez pas à la guerre
Refusez de partir
S'il faut donner son sang
Allez donner le vôtre
Vous êtes bon apôtre
Monsieur le Président
Si vous me poursuivez
Prévenez vos gendarmes
Que je n'aurai pas d'armes
Et qu'ils pourront tirer

Le Déserteur (B Vian) [cover/version]

Someone called this psychedelic ambient, sounds about right

In Vortex

Track 1 of the Album soundcloud.com/user-461764443/sets/the-haunted-house
As we visit our grandparents house attic we discover that something from the past has been hiding for a long time ... can you say what?

Music and Production: Syrel
Photography:  Protect-Yourself Magazine Cover (1981) by Syrel

“This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.”

The hideaway

Hiding In The Attic

Vocal and vocal composition: Oddrun Eikli
Piano and instrumental composition: Torbjørn Vagle https://soundcloud.com/tobbenv
Orchestral composition and performance: Ad Van Nederpelt https://soundcloud.com/ad-van-nederpelt
Production for all instruments and vocals, the final mix and mastering: Ad Van Nederpelt
Poem: Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (December 10, 1830 – May 15, 1886)
Photo Torbjørn Vagle and Cover layout: Vetle Vagle
Thank you so much Torbjørn and Ad for this great JOY.
Poem:
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson  was an American poet. Little-known during her life, she has since been regarded as one of the most important figures in American poetry.

In this poem, Dickinson discusses her love for a man. She is jealous of everything around him, the water "He rides", the Chariots, the hills that watch him going by, the sparrows, the fly, even the leaves.
"I envy Seas, whereon He rides --" can be seen as a love poem for a man, but it can also be seen as a religious poem. The mention of Heaven and Gabriel can easily make this connection. The love of God and the love of everything he created.

I envy seas whereon he rides

I envy seas whereon he rides,
I envy spokes of wheels
Of chariots that him convey,
I envy speechless hills

That gaze upon his journey;
How easy all can see
What is forbidden utterly
As heaven, unto me!

I envy nests of sparrows
That dot his distant eaves,
The wealthy fly upon his pane,
The happy, happy leaves

That just abroad his window
Have summer’s leave to be,
The earrings of Pizarro
Could not obtain for me.

I envy light that wakes him,
And bells that boldly ring
To tell him it is noon abroad,—
Myself his noon could bring,

Yet interdict my blossom
And abrogate my bee,
Lest noon in everlasting night
Drop Gabriel and me

I envy seas whereon he rides. Torbjørn Vagle, Ad Van Nederpelt, Oddrun Eikli.

My beloved wife was recently diagnosed with kidney cancer; not treatable by chemo. The day I dropped her off at the hospital for her surgery (not allowed to stay because of COVID; got calls hourly from the nurses, which was good), I came home an wrote the piano part of this track. I had also had an implant put in my right thumb a few weeks previously, so was still in a splint; this was a 9-finger composition! My wife has been home recovering since and is doing well, and the surgeon (who is an authority in this particular type of cancer)is optimistic about the success of the surgery. We'll know more after a scan in a few months; we are very hopeful and trusting God! 

The picture in the art work is by my daughter. The piano is the Claustrophobic Piano from the Pianobook UK site, sampled by Christian Henson.

© 2021 Roger Hooper Music

Recovery

Charlie Garnet - Remember Me(Dido&Aeneas - Henry Purcell)

Couleurs Passées (Mais l'Émotion Reste).. Une ode à Eddy Louiss..

Faded Colors (But Feelings Remain).. An ode to Eddy Louiss..

Performed live on Oberheim MC2000 master keyboard,
Pianoteq 6.5, preset "Ant. Petrof Intime",
Nebula reverb..
Fingers, heart and nerves, plus foot on the sustain pedal..

Painting : Eddy Louiss portrait by Veronique Feeny (France, Duclair, 76).. digitally modified..

ThP - Couleurs Passées - 20-11-12 - Ant Petrof Intime

I could scream my secrets to the world.. 
The wind would soon tear them, scattered syllables.. The sea, in her roarings, would drown the phonemes, each wave an intonation.. 
You would wonder where this noise comes from, which evokes a voice, in an ever foreign language..
August 2011
--------------------------------------------------------------
Je pourrais crier mes secrets, au monde.. 
Le vent aurait tôt fait de les déchirer, syllabes dispersées.. La mer, dans ses grondements, en noierait les phonèmes, chaque vague une intonation.. 
Tu te demanderais d'où vient ce bruit, qui évoque une voix, dans une langue toujours étrangère..
Août 2011



ThP - Couleurs Passées - 20-11-12 - Ant Petrof Intime

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