If Clara Schumann were here today among us, what would she feel? What would her vision of the path that classical music has taken so far in the midst of changes at all levels be?
She would not be happy to see what was lost... Everything seems drier in the garden of the gods, everything seems less bright and the faint breezes that once caressed her face, carrying with them sweetness and consolation, today can be hurtful cold winds, empty of content and message.
She did not live in a simpler time. Her life was one of struggle and suffering, she experienced the greatest pains that any woman can experience in her life.
From losing her beloved husband who was revered as few others, to the death of her children, the incomprehension of her father, which was a hard test for her life as a young woman and as an artist... social changes, wars and more. She always kept that inexhaustible internal fire burning, fueled by Love and Music. That was her salvation and refuge, as well as the reason for her being able to overcome the deepest crises.
She would long for those meetings with poets, musicians and singers. Those gatherings full of harmony and beauty. Her subtle motivations that came from being close to streams of fresh water, the aromas of very perfumed garden roses, the enchanted forests, lakes and mountains, as well as the feeling of silk concert dresses on her body, the candles with their warm light, countless tiresome trips and the applause of a not always silent audience. The absences... the reunions. A dedicated life and the centre of all that world where artistic creation was the Athanor of a reduced human group - a very Human group. They were not gods, simply beings with high aspirations, those who also make us feel the nostalgia of a distant and luminous land, where Beauty is always present.
Having been acclaimed by nobles and sapients, she never lost that simplicity and never lost who she was, above all being a woman whose idea and feeling was to always give her best. That charm that arose from the music and through her, that beauty - at times tender and at times powerful - with the golden reflections of a time that no longer exists. Her land was another and is no longer the same.
Now she would certainly feel more alone, or she should have developed an even greater strength and transmuted her art into other facets of creating and serving.
Surely her compassion would be present, as well as her aspiration to great Harmony. And, as always, her eternal Love for Him... her firm and protective love for her new children, and also her Devotion to the Muse would be inevitable. But that is another story... and another life.
Marga Baigorria
