This has been a very sad weekend for Venezuelan music. We have received word that the musician Miguel Astor has passed away. Since arriving in Caracas in 2013 and beginning my bachelor's degree in music, one of the books that saved my life as a student was Contrapunto Para Hoy—a truly special volume that helped me grasp musical textures with greater ease. Later, as a member of the Simón Bolívar National Choir, I not only had the privilege of meeting him, but he also conducted and premiered one of his choral works with us: Confitemini Domino. In fact, there is a video of that moment on YouTube, which I am sharing at the end of this post; please be sure to give it a listen—it is a magnificent choral work, and it will show you the caliber of musician who has just departed this world, as well as the legacy he has left behind.
Now, let's talk about the video I’ve shared with you above in 3speak format; it features O Nata Lux, another choral work by Maestro Miguel Astor. As you can see in the video, it features the same choral ensemble I sing with, though on this particular occasion, only 22 of us performed—specifically, the 22 singers who had traveled to Rome. These images were captured during our first concert in Caracas following our return from the canonization ceremony at the Vatican.
There is a wealth of sacred music that could have been chosen to be performed in Rome; however, our director wanted to bring along compositions and works by Venezuelan authors. After all, our country "invaded" the Vatican last October to celebrate our first two saints, and—to our great delight—one of the composers selected for the performance was Maestro Miguel Astor. This meant a great deal to me, for while there are many artists in my country whose talent is of international caliber, not all of them succeed in crossing our borders. I believe the most special aspect of all is that the very headquarters of the Catholic Church pre-approves the music permitted for performance there; thus, the O Nata Lux you hear in the video had the distinct privilege of being sung within St. Peter's Basilica.
Death always stirs something deep within me; and although I understand that it is a part of life, it continues to shake me to the core whenever a truly great person departs this world. Perhaps the Maestro didn't even know who I was, yet the impact he had on me was tremendous. Now, as I witness the sorrow of my colleagues—and of so many musicians throughout the city and beyond—I see clearly that he was a magnificent man who has just transcended into eternity through the power of music. Thus, all that remains for me is to share these words and these couple of videos—which, in a way, represented my most sincere connection to him. Allow yourself to appreciate this sublime music, always composed with elegance to glorify God... Peace be upon his soul 🙏
