This story was written by Megan Westberg for the May-June 2025 issue of Strings magazine and is read by the author. It is an impassioned voice. A raised female voice. “Human life, for us, is sacred,” she says. Music swells beneath her. Bittersweet. Soaring. Rushing in and then retreating. She goes on. “For as we say, if any life is to be sacrificed, it shall be ours.” Orchestral crescendos punctuate her phrases, diminishing on a dime as her voice turns to soprano gravel from shouting. “They’l...
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This story was written by Megan Westberg for the May-June 2025 issue of Strings magazine and is read by the author. It is an impassioned voice. A raised female voice. “Human life, for us, is sacred,” she says. Music swells beneath her. Bittersweet. Soaring. Rushing in and then retreating. She goes on. “For as we say, if any life is to be sacrificed, it shall be ours.” Orchestral crescendos punctuate her phrases, diminishing on a dime as her voice turns to soprano gravel from shouting. “They’l...
Cellist Anastasia Kobekina Creates an Aural Slideshow of Her Trip to Italy on 'Venice'
Strings Stories
10 minutes
1 year ago
Cellist Anastasia Kobekina Creates an Aural Slideshow of Her Trip to Italy on 'Venice'
This story was written by Megan Westberg for the March-April 2024 issue of Strings magazine and is read by the author.Venice isn’t a place easily rendered. It is a place where imagination and reality blend, and not always harmoniously, where the past and present sit side by side. And to a certain extent, Kobekina wanted to represent Venice as it is and was, but she wasn’t particularly interested in approaching that idea in a literal way. Support the show
Strings Stories
This story was written by Megan Westberg for the May-June 2025 issue of Strings magazine and is read by the author. It is an impassioned voice. A raised female voice. “Human life, for us, is sacred,” she says. Music swells beneath her. Bittersweet. Soaring. Rushing in and then retreating. She goes on. “For as we say, if any life is to be sacrificed, it shall be ours.” Orchestral crescendos punctuate her phrases, diminishing on a dime as her voice turns to soprano gravel from shouting. “They’l...
