A HOUSE FOR FOUR VIOLINISTS

“All we have is our talent,” said one of them, finding refuge, from Ukraine, in Denmark.

Very moving, the picture of these four violinists, together, far away from their homes, their families, their friends.

Refugees.

Running away from a deadly war.

Another war.

Another war provoked by “Homo Sapiens.”

The smallest insect and the thinnest blade of grass and the grayest little stone are wiser than “Homo Sapiens.” And less criminal.

We invite you to imagine A House for Four Violonists.

We are all these four violonists.

What do we take with us, when we leave this earth ?

Nothing, not even our talent.

Nothing.

But to have the violin with you, and your talent, means everything.

Art is very fragile, the most fragile of all human endeavors.

But exactly from this position of essential and unavoidable fragility Art derives its incomparable strength, its ability to transgress even death.

We ask you to design A HOUSE FOR FOUR BLADES OF GRASS.

What is, after all, the artist ?

A blade of grass… the thinnest of all.

And yet, this blade of grass pierces the frozen layer of ice, and grows towards light.

This is the artist.

The criminal bombshells will not dwarf the blade of grass, will not dwarf the artist.

But let’s see in their tragedy, in this case, our own.

At our best, we are them.

THEIR house, will be OUR house.

What if we all whisper, under the rain of bombs, “all we have is our talent ?”

Wouldn’t we, through this very statement, make the world a better one ? After all, what else do we need ?

Design A HOUSE FOR FOUR ARROWS OF LONGING.

For four violonists.

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