M. K. Čiurlionis - Jūra / The Sea (for two pianos)

As a follow-up to my previous piano duet, here is the second of Čiurlionis' symphonic poems, and his final completed orchestral work. Like Miške before it, Jūra is a breathtakingly grand musical interpretation of the Lithuanian landscapes that inspired so much of his creative work. It invokes imagery of calm waters, violent storms, the rolling and crashing of waves, and the sky above, all in free sonata form.
My arrangement is derived from the altered/incomplete score edited by Eduardus Balsys that was most commonly played through the 20th century. Although it differs from the composer's original intent, I still believe this version is just as beautiful and enjoyable as later, critical editions of the work. The piano performance took inspiration from Yevgeny Svetlanov and Duo Zubrovas' interpretations of the piece.
This was the hardest musical project I've ever undertaken - mostly due to its sheer length complexity, but also my lack of any formal musical education. One day I'll actually learn to play scales properly. Despite all that, I went ahead made this video in hopes of elevating such an underappreciated composer and sharing his wonderful music with a larger audience.
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Jūra
Powerful sea. Great, infinite, boundless. All of the sky envelops your waves with its blue, while you, full of grandeur, breathe calmly and peacefully, since you know that there are no limits to your power and your grandeur, your existence is infinite. The great, powerful, wonderful sea! Half the world is looking at you at night, distant suns drown their blinking, mysterious, slumbering glances in your depths, while you, eternal queen of giants, breathe peacefully and quietly, you know that there is only you and nobody reigns over you.
Your frown, your blue face is as if discontented. You frown? Could it be wrath? Who could dare, o sea, incomprehensible in infinite grandeur, who could dare to go against you?
And from the sea came the answer, murmuring faintly, swaying the shore-grass, whispering: “It is the wind, wind, wind.”
And you - you frown and are wrathful, the eternal queen of giants, stretching here for thousands of centuries, lit by the blinking suns of universe, always cold and tranquil, you are wrathful.
Is it because your waves are no longer in your power? The wind is already reigning over them and driving them like a herd of sheep.
Look, just look how willingly they are all running with the wind, each and every one, and there are millions of them, and still more coming. Hold at least one of your subjects, o queen!
What a horrid hoard! Waves, waves and only waves stretch from horizon to horizon.
Look, your giants are rising, but even they are no longer in your power. You are foaming, o great sea! The wind has ordered them to crush rocks hundreds of miles away, and they rush forward, confident, howling, dashing their weak chests against solid stone and perishing; new ranks rise behind them and also perish.
- Mikalojus Konstantinas Čiurlionis

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