The Hidden Waltzes №2
Recently, I found myself crossing paths with a melody — a tune that, in mere moments, threatened to dissolve my very existence. Just a handful of notes were enough to let me know that I had unearthed something rather special. The sound was a paradox, simultaneously familiar and alien. Desperate to identify this musical enigma, I plunged into the depths of my music library, initially speculating that it might belong to the Chopin section. But even after a string of failed attempts, the mystery persisted. Finally, I decided to seek help from Shazam, and the revelation left me astounded. The composer was a stranger to my knowledge — Alexander Griboyedov.
Curiosity piqued by this newfound treasure, I embarked on a journey of research. Griboyedov, as I learned, was not only a composer, but also a Russian diplomat, playwright, and poet. His diplomatic service saw him posted as Russia’s ambassador to Qajar Persia, in Tehran — a tenure that ended in tragedy when he and his embassy staff fell victim to a mob, enraged by the political climate. What’s more, we only have a scarce collection of Griboyedov’s works left. The piece that held my heart captive was a fleeting 2 minutes and 28 seconds in duration. I fell in love the instant the sound waves first caressed my ears.
It’s a sad reality that the works of many artists have been lost to us, swallowed by the maw of war or forgotten in the shadows of obscurity. Consider Schubert, whose genius remained a secret until an intrepid soul decided to illuminate it. It was some ten years after his death when Robert Schumann uncovered a chest brimming with Schubert’s masterpieces. “The riches that lay here made me tremble with excitement,” he admitted, overwhelmed. In Schumann’s words, the discovery “transports us into a world where I cannot recall ever having been before.”
As for me, I find myself captivated by Griboyedov’s Waltzes №2, and I count myself lucky for this serendipitous encounter. One could argue that the digital age, for all its flaws, offers us a beacon of hope — art can be easily replicated and, perhaps, immortalized for future generations. They might then witness our world as we see and feel it today. The real question, though, is whether they will care, as the dizzying speed of change and noise threatens to outpace the value of such discoveries.
In this era, the deluge of music being created is unprecedented, making it harder than ever to catch the ear of potential listeners. Yet, I remain hopeful. I believe that we will continue to stumble upon music that ensnares our minds, in the way that Alexander Griboyedov managed to capture mine.
