Sanguines

In the quiet, marble‑lined gardens of a white Ephesus, two fledgling apprentices stand beside towering cypresses, reverently watching the stoic elder Bryaxis at work. Their reverence feels weighty, drawing listeners into a world where art and legend merge.

A lively interruption comes from mischievous Ophélion, who bursts onto the scene with a whistle and a tale about the impatient queen Stratonice and the temperamental painter Clésidès. Their witty exchange reveals how the royal command to paint the queen from behind forces the artist into absurd compromises and secret substitutions, cracking with humor about the delicate dance between creative freedom and patronage.

The opening blends poetic description, ancient myth and sharp dialogue, setting a tone both reverent and playful. Listeners are drawn into a richly imagined workshop where every statue and brushstroke carries a hidden story, celebrating the stubborn beauty of creation.