From Origenes to Julian Orbon

WHEN WE CONFIRM THAT THE ARCHDEACON JOSAS SEEMS TO BE THE SHADOW of Perotinus, and that the corridors to arrive at the tower of Saint Gil are the conductus of the melismas in the School of Notre Dame, we understand that the powerful musician Julián Orbón has taken his start in the dear friendship of the proconsul Juliabro and in the ecumenical redondels of sound. He was at the same time, in what is created and what was discussed, in the severe valorization or in the profits of gratification, a style and an approximation, a text in the company or even a plumbing of gravity in the risks of adventure. How had this flaking away been in him, this letting go of sand in order to gather up again sand and the ant. His possibilities and his destiny condemned him and exalted him to the école buissonnière. In Europe, or better, in the Holy Roman Empire of Germany, in the March of Aquitaine, or in the Great Duchy of Luxembourg, Julián Orbón would have fled from school to go to the Delphic bookstore of the town, between illustrations, old instruments, alchemy pots, and the terror of the Baron of Napier. And at night, he would have escaped from the stove, tired of hearing ghost stories in tales from overseas, to go to the fair, where a canary extracts the three hundred questions of Pico de la Mirandola and the immutable answer, and another blond page with a monocle on a green ribbon tries to extract a question from him, and he looks at him in a decisive and terrible manner. Then, Charles the Rash arrives before the shop of his sumptuous and somber enemy; he salutes with great reverence and lands a shameless blow on the haunches of his horse, Amilcar. His possibilities and his destiny condemned him to another subtle variant of the école buissonnière. His teachers were going to be the skillful and lordly form in which he was going to paint his leisure, to surround himself with his friends, to initiate an invocation to Polemos in the ancient café Mars and Bellona. His teachers were going to be a grand tradition and a powerful ability to intuit styles. And in the School of Notre Dame, if he now found Perotinus, before he had located Juan Frollo del Molino, the reveler, the brother of the high archdeacon.

His progressions flap about, submerge, initiate, or break off at the instant of skin or lamination, but in what has already been done, one perceives the support of his sharpness, the cape opened up by his lucidity. In the darkness, a gift of his increasing force, Greek flutes and Arab albogones are heard in the nocturnal fêtes of the minstrels throughout the seven castles on the seven hills. He has already been needing the law of his whirlwind, his strong castle, like in German choral, before the night which throws us, breaks us, and places upon us its glass hand. Following the Gregorian, the School of Notre Dame reminds us of the moment of Saint Louis and the theory of his sword. His sword arm understands the alleluias of the distillers and the students, the consecrating pomp of Reims and the great chapel, long rows with feudal hierarchy and imagination, somber promises of walking with bare feet from Amiens to Pecquigny and offering boiling fish to defend the charter of the city with the powerful help of Louis the Fat against the Count of Amiens. He destroyed his castle, but the town does not follow his disciplinary insanity and he retreats to the Great Carthusian Monastery, where, speaking one day with the superior who was taking down his reports, he...