photo © Denis-Constant Martin 1975
... For Bra Louis So all day long the noise of battle roll'd Among the mountains by the winter sea; Until King Arthur's table, man by man, Had fallen in Lyonnesse about their Lord, King Arthur: then, because his wound was deep, The bold Sir Bedivere uplifted him, Sir Bedivere, the last of all his knights, And bore him to a chapel nigh the field, A broken chancel with a broken cross, That stood on a dark strait of barren land. On one side lay the ocean, and on one Lay a great water, and the moon was full. Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere: "The sequel of to-day unsolders all The goodliest fellowship of famous knights Whereof this world holds record. Such a sleep They sleep—the men I loved. I think that we Shall never more, at any future time, Delight our souls with talk of knightly deeds, Walking about the gardens and the halls Of Camelot, as in the days that were. .... [Tennyson, Morte d'Arthur] So it is that this mighty chapter is closed. Our Knights are now all gone. This wondrous story of bold souls believing in themselves and venturing all over the globe with nothing but their music, their hope, determination and love of life and their openness to adventure. As Chris once stated in an interview: "We are too soon old, and too late wise." But too soon gone. These were my Stravinskys, my Inca Warriors, my flawed gems. And I loved them all.