Can one cherish everything about one's existence, even one's own regrets? It is said that on the threshold of the final journey, one's gaze does not linger on what was accomplished, but on what was not dared. It is this vertigo—that of Emperor Titus passing away with that final confession: 'I have but one regret'—that sculpted Amor Fati.
I wanted to imagine the inner epic of this last breath: that suspended moment when an entire life flashes in an instant, and where the shadow of regrets struggles one last time with the light of sovereign acceptance. In this score, the trumpets of fatality cross one of the most lyrical melodies I have ever composed. At the heart of the work, the cello sheds its toga to transform into an Oud and evoke the mirage of the Queen of Judea. Overcoming regret to find peace: that is the journey I invite you to share. For such is the essence of this concept: not merely enduring what happens to us, but embracing every turn of fate as a creative force.
