Then I Open the Window
A page of test results is read again and again, but the numbers remain exactly where they were. For a while the room seems to stop with them. Then the paper slips from the hand, the body rises, and the window is opened wide. Nothing has been magically repaired, yet light, air and the decision to continue enter the room.
Listen to the composition
Ready to play
Away from the page and toward the air
The sheet is still in the hand. The same lines are read once, then again, then from the beginning, as though one overlooked sign might change their meaning. Nothing changes. The room remains quiet, the window stays closed, and beyond the glass the day continues without waiting for an answer.
The eyes move from the page to the window and back. Outside there is sunlight, a pale sky and air moving through branches that cannot be seen from the chair. Inside, the numbers remain exact and indifferent. Hope has no effect on them. Repetition has no effect on them. For a while the person does not move at all.
Then another thought returns — not a promise that everything will be well, and not a denial of what the paper says. It is quieter and more demanding: stand up. Continue. Fight while there is still something to fight for, while light remains beyond the glass and the world has not stopped with these figures.
The fingers loosen. The page slips to the floor and lands in a patch of sunlight. The chair is left behind. The room is crossed slowly, and the window is opened wide. A sheer curtain lifts into the moving air. The results have not changed, but the direction of the next movement has: away from the page and toward the living world outside.
From fixed repetition to open space
The composition is shaped around a compact musical thought that initially feels closed and immovable. Its return suggests the repeated reading of the same information: the eye moves over the lines again, but no new meaning appears and no exit is yet visible.
The turning point does not arrive as a triumphant reversal. It begins as the first genuine movement after stillness. The musical space gradually broadens, the central idea gains warmth and forward direction, and what once felt trapped begins to breathe.
The later expansion does not erase the difficult opening. The same emotional material remains present in a different light. The ending is clear-eyed rather than victorious: hope appears as an action, not a guarantee, and the final impression is of air entering a room where someone has chosen to continue.
Credits and information
- Music
- Dmitry Lastov
- Artistic direction
- Dmitry Lastov
- Arrangement
- LASTORIA ORCHESTRA
- Orchestral stylization
- LASTORIA ORCHESTRA
- Performance
- LASTORIA ORCHESTRA
- Format
- Instrumental composition
- Created
- 4 August 2026