Scorpius

Scorpius was commissioned by Alex Pauk for the Esprit Orchestra of Toronto. As frequently happens, the publicity had to go out long before the piece had been written. Pressed by Alex for a title I said it would be called 'Brian Mulroney’s Early Morning Whackoff'. As the worst prime minister Canada has ever had, Mulroney was really getting on my nerves at the time with his unctuous and empty chauvinism. Of course, that title was impossible. Alex explained that the theme of the concert was outer space, so, consulting our star-gazers’ manuals, we decided to call it Scorpius. But when I thought about it, there was something intriguing about the first title: the fast jerky rhythm, the panting, the pauses for breath, renewed excitement and finally the climax – a dribble. Sometimes during rehearsals I divulge the real title to the orchestra. The piece is always played better after that.

But you can’t print that in a program, so you better use this. One of the advantages of living in the country is that one is less troubled by noise pollution and light pollution. The dome of escaped and unproductive light that arises over every city at night is the visual equivalent of the swill and swell of ambient noise released in the city by day. Night-time lighting has expanded much faster than the population in Western countries; by one estimate it has quadrupled in intensity every decade since 1960 as new human settlements are lit and overlit.

Like noise pollution, excessive lighting chokes off all appreciation of distance. It shrinks the world; everything seen or heard becomes finite, close and human-made. Only in the dark country sky are the stars released to their infinity. They appear so tiny; they make us feel smaller. They draw us into another universe, one we will never dominate, or destroy or even understand.

I have no idea why the present piece is entitled Scorpius, or what its relationship might be to the constellation of stars which barely rises above the southern horizon on summer evenings. With Antares at its head, it appears vigorous a nd resilient, shaped like a fish hook. Is that why 'my' Scorpius is barbed and unsettled? The Greeks said Scorpius stung Orion to death, since he sets as Scropius rises. Am I trying to sting someone with 'my' Scorpius? I’ll let the listener decide. R. Murray Schafer