Memories of the Ghetto

This is the first movement of a string quartet I have been working on. The entire quartet is called "Jackdaw", and this movement is titled "Memories of the Ghetto". It is about things that are gone forever. It is about my ancestors. It is about my jewishness, which has now become so faint it is like the fog on a summer morning, moments away from complete disintegration. Yet at the same time it is a deep root, a bond that ties me to those who came before me, those who clawed their way out of the furnace and found sanctuary in a new land, a safe haven. What were their lives like, living in the ghettos of Prague? Babies were born, children played in the street, lovers held each other and giggled in the moonlight, businessmen haggled over the price of goods, wrinkled old women told tales of heartbreak and woe, an ancient city breathed in one generation and exhaled another. The memories of my ancestors. They don't come to me in an orderly fashion, but instead all tangled up, or sometimes as mere glimpses, vignettes of a time that is buried, of a people I desperately long to know. The deep dark blue of a prayer shawl, freshly baked bread, a labyrinth of crumbling stone spires, grandpa's croaking laugh, a virgin bride smiling beneath her veil. These are my people, a lake so deep it reaches down to the very bowels of the earth. And yet I have almost lost them, almost forgotten the bond, forgotten who I am. I want to see through their eyes and know their pain and triumph and laughter and fear and joy. I want to remember. Remember!

Tomorrow I'll listen to it again (here is late... ). 

But I enjoyed a lot the first listening. Very good counterpoint and nice controlled dissonances (which are perfect for me). Also, a feeling of introspection ... more after reading your explanation.

Thank you for saying that. I appreciate your kind feedback, and your multiple listens. This piece improves the more you listen to it :)