The seaside town of Zadar is a curious place. The ancient harbour draws the eye to a square from Roman times. The foundations that trace the outlines of former buildings, the paving and the columns are witnesses to millennia. In the walls of the early Christian church, the ninth-century St Donatus, ancient Roman stones can also be found, and even in the sweltering summer they give off coolness. Across the way stands the town museum, the relics of a vanished age gathered in one place.
South of the ancient harbour, among the old town's time-worn houses of white stone, you come to a splendid hill. On a small square, five wells side by side, then out through the old town gate, where heraldic lions guard the way in and out. The road leads on, out of the town, but the path takes you into a beautiful park. The top of the hill is reached by a spiral walk, with scarcely any climbing, and yet the view is superb. Whoever is sharp-eyed can sense, even from here, what is truly worth seeking out.
Back to the harbour square, then north along the pleasant seafront promenade, and soon you come to the sea organ. The unsuspecting stroller notices nothing and becomes aware only of the wafts of air. Pleasant sounds, perhaps from the ether? Perhaps the music of the spheres? Or the bewitching music of the mermaids?
On the topmost blocks of the stepped quay, built of huge stones, there are neat holes that look like enigmatic decoration. But look more closely, and you discover the connection between the holes hollowed into the stone, the play of the waves and the wafts of sound. Air shafts run down from the paving of the quay all the way to sea level, serving as pipes, and the waves supply an ever-changing music of flutes. When a wave strikes the stone wall, the air pipes hum into life, and beside the plashing of the water the pipes keep whispering too. Though the mechanism is invisible, its existence is clearly audible.
Barely-a-wave – a faint waft, brisker water – livelier notes, wind-lashed waves – the water organ still sounds pleasant, and behind the roar of the storm, too, the peaceful flute is there. The storm moves on, and the playing of the sea pipes remains. However strong the swell that strikes the pipes, they give out only pleasant sounds. The waves of life test you too, now more gently, now with a tempest. What sounds do you give out?
These flute notes, woken by the ever-lapping, splashing, chattering waves, conjure up a world that is safe yet mysterious, well ordered, and inviting further discovery. There is no illusion, no interference or overlap: listen to the waves of the sea and sway on the waves of sound. The harmony of nature runs through you. The park, the hill, the stones and the harbour all dissolve in this endless swell. You leap back centuries and melt into the organic pulse of the universe, whether given by nature, like the waves of the sea, or made by man, like the voice of the water organ. As above, so below, as without, so within, as the past, so the future… The sound of the outer world stirs sounds within you as well. The inner sound:
First as if the chirping of a cricket, then the sound of a fine reed pipe, then as if the sound of a downpour rang out. Then bells, and gongs, and a multitude of drums of every kind. (Gheranda Samhita 78–79.)
What is the ultimate prayer? The eternal message written on man's brow and carved into his soul, which pulses in the heart of everyone. According to your faith you recognise this inner sound, this vibration. Om – the first beat; Beauty – the first spiritual duality, for there must be one who is beautiful and one who admires; Love – the first triad, embracing the word and beauty, and multiplying their force. For faith is the meeting of beauty and love in the heart of man…