One of my kids’ favourite things to do is to watch videos of themselves as babies and toddlers. They love seeing how they moved, talked, interacted with each other. It always feels very wholesome when we sit together and do this, and it often makes me wonder about the effect it has on their sense of who they are.
We have watched some moments so many times that I wonder: do they have a memory of that event, or has the memory of watching the video supplanted what may have existed of the original memory?
If you were born before about 1995, it’s unlikely that you have a stockpile of videos of your very young self to watch. If, like me, you were born well before 1995, you can only guess at how you moved, talked, interacted with others at that age. You look at faded photos and wonder at who that kid was.
Your memories are speculative.
Composer Yair Elazar Glotman did more than just wonder about his childhood memories; his 2022 LP Speculative Memories draws from them and uses cinematic soundscapes to bring them to life.
What makes this a beautiful song:
1. I’m not sure what memory Glotman has that involves standing in front of a mirror, but it feels pretty intense. The listener can imagine him staring at his reflection in anger, or while an argument echoed from another part of the house, or even just in contemplation of what the world might be like on the other side of the mirror.
2. The vocal lines, sung by Sara Fors, are utterly haunting, calling to mind Allegri or Palestrina.
3. Nothing to do with the song, but the album art: at first glance it appears to be black and white. But stare at it a bit longer – the kind of hard critical stare we usually reserve for our own reflections – and you’ll see flecks of blue hidden within.
Recommended listening activity:
Pressing your index finger against a mirror hard enough to leave a fingerprint.