This is a very sad acapella duet (though you can practically hear cello accompaniment) in memory of #538 on the list of American hearts stilled in our so-called preemptive war against Iraq. Nick was just eight months out of high school when he left these shores. The tears in his mother’s voice, the wrung-out calm in his father’s are powerful reminders of the torture so many family members undergo while waiting for their soldiers to come home. It is all the sadder to hear that both parents felt in their heart of hearts that Nick would not return. A fitting ME or ATC drop-in length.
I love the splicing of the mother and father piecing together the story. I wonder how the piece would work with music? And what if you had explored more how she knew he was never coming back. What kind of feeling was that and what did she do to go about planning his funeral? I like stories that connect me to a character in an empathic manner and I think knowing more about these parents (what are their lives like, where do they live, what is their family like?) would be helpful. It's wonderful to have the opportunity to hear from that and I would love to know more.
It starts off sounding a little rough/amateurish, but that changes quickly, and the piece is very compelling. It brings the war--any war--down to a very personal level--in this case, of the parents.
The question is: what do you want to hear on the radio? well, OK, why not this? Perhaps some station should run a day of soldier eulogies - the way the New York Times eulogized the individuals that died on September 11 person-by- person to great effect - because, in my opinion, it might be the only way to help humans really understand with their gut the loss of other humans. In the piece the father says "he was 538. That number is burned in my memory. It's over 600 now." That's a great detail - but it took mea moment to pick up on it - I think it's a little buried in the piece, and I think the information could be presented in a different order (that's the constructive criticism part), but all in all quality of this is good.
Comments for The Parents of PFC Nick Spry
Produced by Zachary Barr
Other pieces by Zachary Barr
Rating Summary
4 comments
Sydney Lewis
Posted on August 23, 2004 at 01:12 PM | Permalink
Review of The Parents of PFC Nick Spry
This is a very sad acapella duet (though you can practically hear cello accompaniment) in memory of #538 on the list of American hearts stilled in our so-called preemptive war against Iraq. Nick was just eight months out of high school when he left these shores. The tears in his mother’s voice, the wrung-out calm in his father’s are powerful reminders of the torture so many family members undergo while waiting for their soldiers to come home. It is all the sadder to hear that both parents felt in their heart of hearts that Nick would not return. A fitting ME or ATC drop-in length.
[redacted]
Posted on August 17, 2004 at 06:55 PM | Permalink
Review of The Parents of PFC Nick Spry
I love the splicing of the mother and father piecing together the story. I wonder how the piece would work with music? And what if you had explored more how she knew he was never coming back. What kind of feeling was that and what did she do to go about planning his funeral? I like stories that connect me to a character in an empathic manner and I think knowing more about these parents (what are their lives like, where do they live, what is their family like?) would be helpful. It's wonderful to have the opportunity to hear from that and I would love to know more.
Chuck Elkins
Posted on August 13, 2004 at 01:38 PM | Permalink
Review of The Parents of PFC Nick Spry
It starts off sounding a little rough/amateurish, but that changes quickly, and the piece is very compelling. It brings the war--any war--down to a very personal level--in this case, of the parents.
Marjorie Van Halteren
Posted on August 12, 2004 at 05:51 AM | Permalink
Review of The Parents of Nick Spry
The question is: what do you want to hear on the radio? well, OK, why not this? Perhaps some station should run a day of soldier eulogies - the way the New York Times eulogized the individuals that died on September 11 person-by- person to great effect - because, in my opinion, it might be the only way to help humans really understand with their gut the loss of other humans. In the piece the father says "he was 538. That number is burned in my memory. It's over 600 now." That's a great detail - but it took mea moment to pick up on it - I think it's a little buried in the piece, and I think the information could be presented in a different order (that's the constructive criticism part), but all in all quality of this is good.