Emiliano Trujillo profile picture

Emiliano Trujillo

About Me

I was born in Argentine the 15th of November 1971. Ever since I was a child I was very interested in music and poetry. Being 15 years old I started to study music in the University of Rosario where I studied Oboe and chamber music for three years. There I got to know my teacher Ricardo Vidal with whom I learned that music goes much beyond written scores, learned that music was like shoot an arrow right to the soul. This is what I am and always have been looking for: the bow the arrow and the bulls eye meet within the sound of my soul. Therefore after having made baroque music for some time, I fully dedicated myself to find music within poetry, so that the word dies to give birth to silence. I wrote 35 poetry books of which I published five in Argentine. After a ten year break with music I discovered Indian music. Within the modal music of India I really found the window I was looking for: A window that allows me to look inside, as well as outside, a window that allows me to close my eyes and to look at a horizon of poetry and music. As a musician with classical roots I cannot leave behind my concept of counterpoint music. This means to me melodic lines or voices mixing up and dialoging harmoniously, as in real life and love, they are full of color and contrast. Anything more that could be said about myself belongs to the realm of anecdotes. MyGen Profile Generator

My Interests

Music:

Member Since: 9/4/2007
Band Members: Emiliano Trujillo: Sitar, Sarod and Esraj performer.
Influences: Hazrat Inayat Khan Indian Classical Music: Ustad "Baba" Allauddhin Khan, Ustad "Swara Samrat" Ali Akbar Khan, Pandit Ravi Shankar, Pandit Nikhil Bhanerjee, Ustad Sultan Khan, Ustad Salaamat Ali Khan... Old Music: Alfonso Ferrabosco, William Byrd, Thomas Thallis, Jhon Dowland... Argentina: "El Cuchi Leguizamón"
Sounds Like:
Type of Label: Unsigned

My Blog

Tres Poemas..................

Cuando la verdad me devuelve la noche y en la noche se resuelven las miradas, mi boca es como un túmulo de sombras; mi lengua es la palabra aciaga. Cuando lánguida y de nadie la tarde se envuelve en ...
Posted by on Tue, 15 Jan 2008 13:03:00 GMT

1

La austeridad la sombra la luz y el hueco; todo, ya sin color ni nombre, le señalaba el camino. Pesado paso en la arena detenida. Pesando a pasos la lenta planicie de los siglos; pisando entre tiempo...
Posted by on Tue, 15 Jan 2008 12:37:00 GMT