Work Text:
The piece began with a haunting flute solo reminiscent of a Subcontinental marketplace. The sweet tune was slowly drowned out by the staccato beat of drums. The flutes joined by horns now squealed and became a pulsing counterpoint to the drumming, till all died down to a single, stuttering drumbeat.
Faint at first, then growing stronger, a solitary violin curled under the stumbling drum, only to suddenly shriek and emit an erratic set of chords. Other violins came in, playing beautifully together, but the first violin sped or slowed or shrieked in cacophony, and the other violins receded. The violin continued its erratic behaviour, occasionally playing very sweetly but only amid sped-up or slowed-down scrapings and squealings.
Again the stumbling drum, butting up against the mad violin. The violin slowed, steadied; the drum grew stronger, emitted a military pulse once again. With only a momentary pause the violin swept into the rhythm set by the stronger drumbeat, the violinist’s sweetest tunes lacing in and out of the strokes of the drummer.
Violin and drum finished the piece together, each bolstering the other in a thrilling conclusion that stirred the heart with its courage and pierced the eyes with its beauty.
The audience clapped politely.
“That was an odd piece.” Watson walked beside Holmes. “Brand-new. But something about it rings a bell.”