A Tribute to Fathers

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Today is fathers day and this is a tribute to all fathers. It is also a personal tribute to my own father and a precious recollection.

Summer Solstice to Remember

It was a summer evening – maybe close to the summer solstice. The windows were open and our house was filled with garden fragrance. It was my bedtime, but the night was warm and light and my father had a different idea.

That day he had brought home from London a new stereo recording he wanted to share with me. He put the record on the turntable and I sat on his knee. The music began to play. We listened to the exhilarating, compelling opening chords of Rimsky-Korsakov‘s Scheherazade.

Story About a Storyteller

I was entranced. This was much better than early to bed on a summer evening. But it was so much more. As the soul-stirring music unfolded, my father revealed the spell-binding tales told by the young Persian princess to save her life. Tales of intrigue and adventure and love.

Here, as we listened, ancient tales from Arabian Nights were played out in the dramatic music.

Sinbad the Sailor

Scherazade begins with the tale of Sinbad the Sailor. His adventures at sea and mythical sea creatures take center stage. I was there. I was with Sinbad on his voyages. As the musical waves crashed down I lived every cadence and every pirate adventure. Like the sultan I too was spell-bound.

Bagdad and Shipwreck and Sea

The tales continued. Tales of Princes, festivals in Bagdad. To me the music was exotic. It concludes with a movement which is all about a storm at sea. I remember my mother wondering if the music was too loud. Perhaps it was. Clashing cymbals, kettle drums and the full sweep of orchestra percussion were creating final powerful images of a storm at sea. There were crashing waves and a shipwreck. My father and I were on that ship, on that voyage.

Love Prevails, Ultimate Bedtime Story

And yes, in the end, the story-spinning princess, Scherazade saves her life and the Sultan falls in love with her. A happy ending as in the world of fantasy and with all good fairy tales. This was the ultimate bedtime story. All lived happily ever after. That night did I dream of Sinbad and Arabian Nights? I don’t remember.

I have other precious musical memories of learning to love music with my father. A family outing to Covent Garden to hear Aida when I was twelve. (Another travel inspiration?) and a walk across fields in the snow, delayed, as we listended to Bruch’s violin concerto on our car radio, once again with windows open.

In Conclusion, A Tribute to Fathers

I wish my father had lived so he could have met his grandchildren and now great grandchildren. That was not to be. But his love of music and the precious memories of sharing his passion linger.

Scherazade will always be the most evocative piece of music for me. It always brings tears to my eyes. And did this moment help to inspire my passion for travel? Perhaps.

Happy Father’s Day!