#other possibilities were ghost love score by nightwish

[juustozzi]

what do you think about the go raimon team finding out tenma listens to rock and metal music (tenma liking rock and metal + him knowing how to play the bass is a personal headcanon of mine)

oooh that's a headcanon I might steal for mysef too- really like the unexpected music taste based on his overall demeanor :D

I think the team would be pretty surprised, but some of them would get interested and dip in too, like shinsuke and hayami probably? but learning he can play would be pretty impressive to everyone!

(imagine that the vid has a muffled effect like the music is playing from the headphones)

[joyfullynervouscreator]

Ghost Love Score

For the @silmarillionwritersguild’s Challenge ‘Just an old-fashioned love song’ as part of the New Year’s Resolution Challenge.

Fëanor in the Halls of Mandos: 2.8k words

based on Ghost Love Score  -  Nightwish:

Bring me home or leave me be

My love in the dark heart of the night

I have lost the path before me

The one behind will lead me.

My fall will be for you

My love will be in you

You were the one to cut me

So I'll bleed forever

There was no pity in Námo’s white eyes, shining beneath the dark hood of his cloak, when they landed on him.

Fëanor felt oddly pleased by that, meeting the even gaze with an unflinching glare of his own. He had not expected to end up here, to stand before the Doomsman. He did not speak, still filled with the incandescent fury that had consumed his hröa, burning so brightly the world faded from view.

Námo watched in silence. Fëanor resented that. If he was not doomed to the Everlasting Darkness – and standing before Námo told him that he was in Mandos, not the Void beyond the World – then there would be a judgement handed down from this being, who allegedly saw all, knew everything. He resented that as much as he resented the silent scrutiny.

Who were the Valar to judge him, these mighty beings who possessed so much power yet cowered away from hardship when it came to judging one of their own?

How could they judge his deeds when their own actions had forced his hand?

Fëanáro. He had burned, burned so brightly, burned brightly enough to light a fire that changed the world. He heard the voices of those who arrived after him, heard them both curse and praise his name. He wondered which would be the greater, in the end, but it was idly curiosity as he had no way of finding out.

Námo smiled, and Fëanor no longer saw him, saw nothing but a flurry of stars – or were they snowflakes? Seeds dancing on the wind? – stretching endlessly around him.

The stars, whatever they were, danced, moving, some swiftly, some slow, but they moved around him and Fëanor knew they would eventually touch his fëa. His lips twisted in a contemptuous snarl, wondering what trickery this was, what new game the Vala was playing with him as a board-piece.

Because waiting for whatever gambit Námo had just delivered him into to play out was not in his nature, Fëanor – he liked the Sindarin version, short and hard; his Quenya name was somehow softer, floating on one of Nerdanel’s sighs, perhaps – reached out to touch one of the whirling pinpricks of light.

 Alqualondë. Recognisable; he had helped build some of the grand houses here, after all, left far too many blank walls behind – Teleri liked painting with wet plaster, for unknown reasons, even though mosaics were clearly the more beautiful option for wall decoration.

Red hair escaping from its binds – so familiar that it took him longer than he’d like to admit, even to himself, to notice the hands that were building stone upon stone.

Faces appeared next, almost known, pale hair – Arafinwë? – curling around bared shoulders, sleeveless tunic revealing the play of light on skin, muscles tensing and releasing as another stone was moved.

 The stars returned, whirling and spinning around him, swift like rapids and slow like the movement of earth.

Fëanor reached out.

 Námo’s game let him see things, glimpses of past, present, future, and seeing the mess he had left behind was the worst punishment for his rebellion he could imagine. He resented it, watching powerlessly, seeing things unfolding without possibility of changing anything. Was this how Manwë watched the world; another way to drive home how separate the Valar truly were from the Children? Knowing that others were denied the knowledge he found imposed upon his solitary existence grated against nerves more raw than he had ever felt before, but at the same time he craved it, craved both the harsh pain of knowledge without action, but also the sweet agony of seeing each of their faces, seeing the ner they became.

He felt proud of them, despite it all, for different reasons.

He watched as Curvo stopped little Tyelpë – who was no longer little, growing up seemingly from one moment to the next – from taking his Oath, and for a moment he wondered if Atarinkë had been a prophecy rather than the remark on their resemblance he had always thought she had meant.

For a moment, he wanted to ask, wanted red hair wrapping in curls around his fingers and laughter floating in the breeze. Had she known, somehow?

The thought cut through him, the pain of it sharp enough to steal his breath, the sudden certainty that she had always known Curvo was destined to be a better father to Tyelpë than he had managed for any of theirs. As air rushed back into lungs he didn’t really have – existing as a fëa was too peculiar, and he had crafted himself a pretend-shell that resembled his former house rather than live as fire, taking comfort in familiar expressions instead of roaring like an inferno or flickering like a candle when his thoughts changed – he felt an accompanying rush of pride, watching his only grandchild speak with an echo of the fire that had brought a whole people across the sea to fight an unwinnable war.

They believed in him; in Tyelpë they saw a ner worth believing, worth following, and it was glorious to behold.

He watched trials and triumphs, watched as the Oath slowly corrupted his sons, watched as the words haunted them. No cravens nor cowards, his sons, to shy away from their Doom, even as it tore them apart, tore away one after the other.

‘To evil end shall all things turn that they begin well; and by treason of kin unto kin, and the fear of treason, shall this come to pass.’

Nelyo should never forgive him. Nor any of the others, the scars he had left on them would never fade.

 He could not even dream that she would forgive him, knowing what he had done to her sons, to her. There would be no healing this wound, this rend in her that would be left bleeding until Dagor Dagorath and the Re-making.

Sometimes, she appeared so clearly in his mind, almost clearer than she had when it was real, when it was happening, when he had been able to act.

Tears spilling across her cheeks, helplessness he had not noticed at the time giving her a defeated posture, making her slump in a way that was simply wrong. She should be proud, standing straight and strong, life and love and fire equal to his own in her heart.

But he had smothered her fire. Eclipsed it, and thus covered his own world in darkness, losing the assured path he had once followed and stumbling off into what he now saw as a mire of grief and maddened fury.

Sometimes, he wondered in dark amusement whether that was the Eternal Darkness he had called upon himself, the absence of any fire but his own.

He rarely saw her, the glimpses never more than the familiar shape of a hand, the curve of her cheek, fragmented sights he felt meant to torment him with what he had lost until the moment he began to wonder if he only remembered these fragments, if what he saw was coloured by his own memory of people and places.

He still remembered the redness of her curls – at least he thought he did. He remembered the feel of her body beneath his hands, those muscles born of shaping stone and hefting hammers. He remembered gentle light playing across skin slightly paler than his own, remembered tracing the scattered stars across her cheek with his tongue.

He saw those stars in the faces of some of his sons, saw echoes of her brightness, marred by the Oath and the deeds they had done. He saw them arrive, brought to him one by one, though they did not see him, and he could not bear to speak to those he loved most dearly for fear they would not hear him.

His sons; how terribly had he shaped their fates?

Looking back at it all, he hardly recognised himself, a creature of grief and pain, unwilling to listen to counsel or reason. She had been right to leave, and that, perhaps, was what hurt the most. To know that he had lost himself so completely that she no longer knew his heart, no longer understood him as only she had ever truly understood.

  Nerdanel stood on the precipice, her bare toes kissing the edge of the cliffs, overlooking the roiling sea. The gale blowing around her caught in loose curls, but she stood frozen, uncaring, barely feeling the breath of Manwë as it tangled her hair, pulled at the fabric of her clothes.

Her sons – bar one – were dead, and the last one… was Makalurë staring at the same grey waves that stretched before her eyes?

Her heart was a small wounded thing in her chest, beating slowly, painfully.

Had they been afraid, her sons?

Had they wished for her to hold them, hold them as they breathed their last, calling out to her with voices she could not hear?

Fëanáro had been wrong in haring off after Melkor – Morgoth as he had named him – but as news trickled back to her, tales of Kinslayings – plural! – of kidnappings, of neri that she scarcely recognised as the boys she had once laid to her breast, had raised with more love than she had thought herself capable of feeling… Nerdanel began to wonder if she had not been just as wrong in her stubborn refusal to follow.

Perhaps she could have… that way lay madness, surely. Where was her vaunted wisdom now? How had her feet brought her down this path, taken her from the life she had loved and made her stumble into this unrecognisable nightmare of a future?

Nerdanel… the wise. It left a sour taste in her mouth, the name, a bitter tang of loneliness and grief that it had not carried when he had named her so. What wisdom had been in remaining behind, in letting her sons – her sons! – throw their lives away thus, what wisdom in staying in this place where she was equal parts scorned and revered for the choice?

She had come here, escaping the looks cast her way in Tirion, in Alqualondë.

She had raised Kinslayers.

She had spoken against Fëanáro’s plan, and been banished for it.

Pity and scorn, always, pity and scorn. And pain. So much pain it felt like she had not taken a true breath since before Finwë was murdered.

There was no escape from this pain.

She did not hear her words even as she spoke them, did not care to note how she threw her fury, her agony, her grief, her love into the wind, screamed against the pain that had wrapped her in chains tighter than she could ever escape.

And still she could not hate him.

Oh, they thought she must, those people far away who had never understood what she shared with him, but Nerdanel knew that love was as tightly woven into her fëa as this new grief that cut a thousand bleeding wounds in her heart.

Beyond the pain, however, there was fury, fury strong enough to topple mountains if she let it.

Others had hope they might see their loved ones again, hope that they might make amends with those who had been wronged, those who had left… hope that was denied her.

For that, she did blame him.

For that, she did blame the Valar, their willingness to abandon the Children to their own devices, for that, she blamed even the All-Father, by whom they had foolishly sworn their oath.

My sons. How did we all come to this, my most beloveds?

How do we find the path that will lead us from this darkness, Fëanáro, when you cannot seek it with me?

  She sat in a hall he recognised, her lips pressed tight together as she watched a stranger come before her, speaking words meant to oust her from this place, this seat that Finwë had sat upon when he joined them in exile, and the vehement loathing in her eyes as she stared at the quailing ner before her was something at once alien and so familiar that Fëanáro shuddered to see it on her face. It was a look he had seen on his own face, mirrored in glass, but never in her, never shaped by her brows, her lips, her clenching fingers as anger warred within her.

“No.” Her refusal was plain, only one word; denial, pure and simple.

“You could return to Tirion,” the ner tried, but Fëanáro felt no surprise to see the steel in her gaze harden further. She was at least as stubborn as he; one of the reasons he had loved her.

“You may tell your King that he is welcome to visit me,” Nerdanel replied, and her voice held enough ice that Fëanáro half expected it to come out as a puff of frost, “but I am the Lady of Formenos, and here I shall remain.”

  She did not sing when she worked.

Somehow – and it surprised him to feel so, having teased her often that her singing was comparable to a cat that had been stepped on – the silence of Nerdanel’s workshop seemed to number among the greatest wrongs he had done her.

  The stars whirled ever onwards.

Fëanor had stopped reaching out, choosing silent endurance as each moment broke him down further.

  In the dead of night, she felt the ghost of his touch, wiping away the tears that only fell in darkness, loneliness, felt the way he would kiss silent apologies into her skin when he hurt her.

It was almost real, and almost real was not enough.

Nerdanel had realised ‘almost real’ hurt even more than ‘gone forever’.

  “I want them back.”

She said it clearly, decisively, like she was Queen – she was, she was his Queen, and no one would dare say otherwise – tired of smothering the fire that burned in her heart. The serving maiar did not reply, but Nerdanel did not care.

What had she, but time?

Settling with her back against a pillar she could have carved more beautiful in her sleep, Nerdanel waited.

What was there, for her, but steely determination?

Loneliness.

Loneliness, and anger, fury that would find no release, no easing of the pain she felt.

What was there, except the scorn and the pity as those who had died in Alqualondë began to return, while she grew paler by the day, losing more and more pieces of what made her her. Hope. It had been the first thing to vanish, leaving her with such fleeting steps she did not even notice its flight before it had abandoned her.

She had not come for hope.

She had not come for anger, for vengeance, not shown up at the Halls as a penitent seeking absolution.

She had come for love.

Love and fire.

Fire and pain.

Pain and love.

 To pass the time, she sang. Badly. She knew her strengths, and music was surely not among them – Makalaurë’s skill had ever fascinated her, the way his mind seemed to hear melodies in everything around him, his fingers plucking them out on a harp, his lips shaping them in a hum, a song.

Still, she had no desire to begin reshaping this travesty of stone that Mandos called his Halls – parts of it might have been beautiful, but it felt oddly unfinished, as though the sculptor had put down his tools while only half the design had been released from the stone – and so Nerdanel sang.

 “Why are you here?”

The question came days later, maybe weeks, months, years.

Nerdanel smiled; it was not a pleasant smile. The servant of Mandos took a step back.

“I want them,” she said. “All of them.”

 Námo’s hidden eyes saw all.

A wave of his hand made the specks of memory that floated around Fëanor whirl faster.

The stars held no fascination for him anymore, beyond trying not to wince when they pierced his mind with flashes of imagery.

Nerdanel in her workshop, offkey singing as her chisel shaped wondrous things became the stars once more.

The singing continued.

Fëanor started, whirling to peer through the impenetrable haze of stars that seemed to be no fewer than when his punishment had first begun.

Nerdanel.

It could be no other.

Fëanor grinned, feeling a curious sense of uplifting; she really was atrocious, and the sound was more precious to him than anything he could have named in that moment.

Pushing through the stars, Fëanor watched impatiently as each memory blurred together, a collage of thoughts and time.

And still, Nerdanel was singing in the distance.

   Perhaps the Valar had found some mercy in the war that had been fought beyond the sea, a glimmer of compassion, perhaps, Nerdanel wondered.

Sstaring at the doorway, she fell silent. Such familiar hair – her own, but sitting on a different head, mingled with darker strands, and single head of pale moonlight – and she reached for them, reached for them even as she saw hesitancy in their eyes, saw the way they expected her scorn, her disdain for their acts.

“Come to me,” she pleaded, reaching, reaching, hearing her blood thunder in her ears as her heart pushed it through her body.

They came.

Her arms were not long enough; they were bigger now than when they had left, or maybe she was smaller, but they fit with her nonetheless.

“Ammë.”

“My boys.” They were. Her boys, no matter what they had done, had seen; they were hers.

Nerdanel kissed brows, wiped away tears, crushed bodies against her, surprised by the strength that returned her hold.

“My boys,” she whispered, wishing that she could take the haunted looks from their eyes as easily as she was putting smiles on their faces.

  “I said all of them.” Nerdanel said later, making the seven around her startle, but her tone brooked no disagreement, and they settled around her, adding their stares to her own. “You will give them to me.” She said it, and he could hear the determination in her voice, did not need to hear the rest of her words to know what she meant to say. “You will give them to me, or I will follow them, this time, I will follow.” Silence greeted her. “Do not test me.”

Fëanor thought he was running, following the sound that had underscored much of his life, in truth, the sound of her voice.

He had left her behind in anger, and now he was running towards her, wishing for no more than a true glimpse.

The irony was not lost on him.

[musicstormmedia]

“¡Me encanta el Teatro El Círculo! Se me pone la piel de gallina de sólo pensar que voy a estar sobre ese escenario otra vez”

Interview also available in English

Dueña de una voz privilegiada y una sonrisa cautivadora, la cantante de rock y música clásica, Tarja Turunen, no deja de sorprendernos. En medio de un presente más que positivo y con miras a un futuro aún más brillante, la finlandesa, devenida en argentina, charló en forma abierta con nosotros acerca de sus varios proyectos, los shows que tiene preparados para este 2017 y la gira que estará haciendo por distintas ciudades del país en el mes de noviembre. 

MSM: Acerca de Act II: ¿Podés contarnos un poco más acerca de por qué elegiste el Teatro Della Luna para grabar el DVD y qué vamos a poder ver en él? ¿Va a seguir la línea de Act I o vamos a encontrar algo nuevo?

Tarja: Esta vez quise filmar y grabar mi segundo DVD en vivo en Europa, y como yo ya me había presentado en este Teatro previamente, la decisión fue mucho más fácil. Sabía qué esperar del mismo, e hizo que fuera más sencillo pensar en toda la producción. El show es emotivo, como todos mis shows, y tocamos un set list muy diferente al que se puede ver y escuchar en Act I. En estos momentos Tim Palmer se está encargando del proceso de mezcla de este lanzamiento.

MSM: Talking about Act II: Can you tell us something else about why you chose Teatro Della Luna to film your DVD and what are we going to watch in it? Is it going to follow the Act I path or are we going to find something new?

Tarja: I wanted to film and record my second live DVD in Europe this time and since I had performed in this theatre before, it made my decision easier. I knew what to expect from it and it became easier to think all the production. The show is emotional as always my shows are and we were playing a set list very different to the one you can see and hear on ACT I. The mixing process is going on with this release at the moment with Tim Palmer. 

MSM: Hace unos días subiste una foto en Instagram sobre la cual se ha hablado bastante. ¿Este nuevo material en el que estás trabajando está relacionado con la música clásica o sigue el camino de lo alternativo que tomaste en tu último álbum de rock? ¿Va a haber algún cover nuevo?

Tarja: Lo siento, no sé muy bien sobre qué foto me están hablando, ¡porque publico fotos nuevas todos los días! En estos momentos estoy trabajando en varios proyectos paralelos que tienen que ver por completo con mi pasión por la música. Sin embargo, no haría algo que fuese completamente diferente a lo que la gente podría esperar de mí. Lo sabrán cuando sea el momento adecuado.

MSM: A few days ago you posted a picture on Instagram and people has been talking pretty much a lot about it. Is this new material you’re working on related with classical music or does it follow the alternative line you took in your last rock album? Is there going to be any new cover? 

Tarja: Sorry, I am not sure which Instagram photo you are talking about, since I am posting every day new photos!! I am currently working on several side projects and those have everything to do with my passion towards music. Nevertheless I would not do something totally different from what people could already expect me to do. You will hear news from me when the time is right.

MSM: ¿Tenés pensado lanzar algún otro videoclip promocionando The Shadow Self, además de Innocence?

Tarja: Quizás haya alguno.

MSM: Have you been thinking about releasing any other video promoting The Shadow Self, besides Innocence?

Tarja: Maybe there will be.

MSM: Con respecto a tu visita de regreso a la Argentina en el mes de noviembre y a otros países latinoamericanos en mayo, ¿ya tenés pensada la alineación que te va a acompañar?

Tarja: Sí. De hecho me verán por allá con los músicos que me están acompañando ahora mismo en mi tour por Europa. La banda nunca ha sonado tan bien y tan poderosa como hasta ahora, ¡así que no querrán perderse estos shows!

MSM: Regarding your visit back to Argentina on November, and other Latin American countries on May.  Do you have the musicians who are going to come with you confirmed?

Tarja: Oh, yes, I have. Argentina will see me performing with the musicians that are accompanying me on my current European tour. The band has never sounded as powerful and good as today, so you really don’t want to miss these shows!

MSM: La última vez que estuviste en Rosario te presentaste en el Club Brown, pero este año la cita es en el hermoso Teatro El Círculo donde ya filmaste Act I. ¿Por qué elegiste nuevamente el Teatro?

Tarja: ¡Me encanta ese Teatro! Se me pone la piel de gallina de sólo pensar que voy a estar sobre ese escenario otra vez. Les agradezco a ustedes por esta nueva oportunidad.

MSM: Last time you were in Rosario you performed at the Club Brown, but this year you’re going to come to the Teatro El Círculo, where you already have filmed Act I. Why did you choose this theatre again?

Tarja: I love this theatre! It gives me goose-bumps just to think that I will stand on that stage again. I thank you for the opportunity again.

MSM: Si bien tu público se caracteriza por ser más bien rockero o metalero, lo cierto es que a todos nos ha encantado el hidden track del disco. ¿Tenés pensado incluirla de alguna manera en el set list?

Tarja: Esta canción es la última del set list. Luego del show, dejo el escenario mientras esta canción suena de fondo. Este tema surgió como una broma, por eso no me dan ganas de tocarla con la banda por ahora.

MSM: We know your public is mainly metalhead and rocker, but the truth is we all loved your album’s hidden track. Have you thought about including that song in the set list?

Tarja: This song is my outro! I leave the stage after the show while this song is playing in PA. This song was made as a joke, so I don’t feel like playing it with the band for now. 

MSM: Has hecho varios covers de Nightwish a lo largo de tu carrera solista, decisión que es celebrada por muchos fans que te siguen desde tus comienzos, ¿podremos escuchar alguna vez tu propia versión de Ghost Love Score o no está en tus planes por el momento?

Tarja: Ni siquiera lo había pensado, ya que justamente estamos tocando ahora un medley de canciones de Nightwish en mis conciertos. Tengo tantas canciones buenas de cosecha propia que ya no siento la necesidad de tocar canciones que hice con la banda. Ese tema que mencionan es una de mis canciones favoritas de Nightwish.

MSM: You’ve made several Nightwish covers along your solo career, this decision is celebrated by a lot of your fans, who follow you since the beginning of your musical career. Is there any possibility to listen to your own version of Ghost Love Score? Or is it out of your plans at the moment?

Tarja: I haven’t really been giving a thought about it, since currently we are playing a medley of Nightwish songs in my concerts. I have so nice songs on my own, that I don’t feel the need of performing the songs I did with the band any longer. That song you mentioned is one of my favourite Nightwish songs. 

MSM: Siguiendo un poco con el tema del set list, en Rosario recientemente iniciamos una encuesta acerca de qué canciones le gustaría al público escuchar en el próximo show que estarás dando en el Teatro El Círculo y Diva viene a la cabeza. ¿Le cumplirías el sueño a los fans rosarinos de poder disfrutar de semejante masterpiece en vivo?

Tarja: Tengo que ver cómo viene la mano cuando esté haciendo el tour por Argentina. No puedo hacerles todavía ninguna promesa. Me siento honrada de escuchar que a muchas personas les encanta este tema en particular. Es una canción muy especial para mí también.

MSM: Going back to the set list topic, we recently started a poll, asking which songs the public would like to listen in the next show you’re giving in Rosario, and Diva is at the top of the charts. Would you make that dream real for your fans from Rosario, so they can enjoy such a masterpiece live?

Tarja: I need to see what is the situation at the time I am going to tour Argentina. I cannot make any promises yet. I am honored to hear that many people love this particular song of mine. It is a special song to me too.

MSM: Con más de diez años de carrera solista y álbumes editados de diversos géneros… ¿Hay algo que todavía no hayas hecho y que te gustaría algún día poder hacer? Si tuvieras que elegir uno solo de todos tus discos, ¿cuál elegirías?

Tarja: ¡Tengo todavía tantos sueños por los que pelear! Me encantaría hacer una película algún día, darle mi voz a un personaje de dibujitos animados, mejorar como cantante lírica y compositora… ¡ver el mundo y ser feliz con mi arte para siempre! Y por supuesto, cantar HASTA MI ÚLTIMO ALIENTO.

Si tuviera que elegir tan sólo uno de todos mis álbumes, sería “The Shadow Self” porque estoy muy contenta con él.

MSM: With more than ten years in a solo career, and a wide variety of genres in your albums… Is there something you haven’t done and you would like to do someday? If you had to choose only one of your albums, which one would it be? 

Tarja: I have many dreams to fight for still! I would love to score a movie one day, give my voice to a cartoon character, get better as a lyrical singer and songwriter…see the world and be happy with my art forever! And of course, sing UNTIL MY LAST BREATH! 

If I have to choose only one album from all of my albums, I would choose “The Shadow Self”, because I am super happy with it.

MSM: Generalmente finalizamos nuestras entrevistas con un top 5 de álbumes recomendados, pero como hasta ahora ya nos has recomendado unos 15, aproximadamente, esta vez queríamos probar algo nuevo: si tuvieras que definirte en una sola oración, ¿cómo lo harías? 

Tarja: Soñadora apasionada en busca de la perfección.

MSM: We usually finish our interviews asking for a top five of recommended albums, but you’ve recommended us about 15 to date, we are going to try something new. So, if you had to define yourself in only one sentence, how would you do it?

Tarja: Passionate dreamer seeking for perfection.

MSM: Muchas gracias por darnos parte de tu tiempo y por lo atenta que siempre fuiste con nosotros. Te deseamos muchos éxitos; y como siempre, tu público rosarino te espera con los brazos abiertos.

Tarja: ¡No puedo esperar a verlos de nuevo! Espero que el tiempo se pase volando. ¡Vamos a rockear juntos como nunca antes! ¡Muchas gracias por todo!

MSM: Thanks a lot for your time, and for how nice you’ve always been with us. We wish you a lot of success and as always your fans here in Rosario wait for you with open arms.

Tarja: I can’t wait to see you again! I hope the time flies soon. We will rock together like never before! ¡Muchas gracias por todo! 

Shows confirmados:

* Mar Del Plata - Roxy Radio City - 21 de noviembre / entradas anticipadas en: https://www.plateanet.com/Obras/tarja---gira-shadows-shows-2017

* Rosario - Teatro El Círculo - 22 de noviembre / entradas anticipadas en: http://www.ticketek.com.ar/tarja-turunen/teatro-el-circulo y las boleterías del teatro. 

* Córdoba Capital - XL Abasto - 24 de noviembre / entradas anticipadas en: https://www.edenentradas.com.ar/Sitio/Contenido/Funcion/FUNC00769024/11

* Buenos Aires - Luna Park - 25 de noviembre / entradas anticipadas en: http://www.ticketportal.com.ar/

Entrevista: Julieta Iglesias

Traducción: Elías Gómez y Romina Ordazzo

Fotografías: Tim Tronckoe Photography

Agradecemos a Gaby Sisti. 

[shogunpenny]

1~30

dangit teb

                            1. Name one song you’re ashamed of liking: Bring Me To Life - Evanescence. I mean i’m not really ashamed of it, its just really emo and not to mention all the memes        

                           2. 25 most played songs in your iTunes?:  I will not answer this question because I do not associate with Apple or use any of its services/products.    

                           3. Put your iPod on shuffle and tell me the first 5 songs:  Main Theme - Total War: Attila OST / All Is Hell That End Well - Two Steps From Hell / Silver For Monsters - The Witcher 3 OST / Our Solemn Hour - Within Temptation / Ghost Love Score - Nightwish          

                           4. What song are you listening to right now?:  In This Moment - The Birthday Massacre          

                           5. First concert you ever went to?: The first concert I remember was a christian conference/music festival. Not a whole lot I really enjoyed musically but nothing I hated either.           

                           6. First album you bought?: Skyworld by Two Steps From Hell            

                            7. First favourite band?: Not really a band but Two Steps From Hell. They were my life for a few years.           

                            8. Favourite song from the 90s?:  Imaginations From The Other Side - Blind Guardian         

                            9. Favourite cover of a song?: We Are Number One meets Metal              

                            10. Favourite lyrics?:  “Beneath the starlight of the heavensUnlikely heroes in the skies (witches to attack, witches coming back)As they appear on the horizonThe wind will whisper when the night witches come” - Night Witches - Sabaton        

                            11. Favourite band/artist? Nightwish               

                            12. Favourite band member from your favourite band?: Marco Hietala.  I mean look at this glorious viking bastard               

                            13. Favourite song?: This is like asking me to choose my favorite child and I will have none of it               

                            14. Least favourite band/artist?: Anything stereotypically pop or country tbh. I can’t really name any one band or artist in particular though       

                            15. Least favourite song?: There are probably songs that I hate more, but off the top of my head its probably Call Me Maybe.               

                            16. Last song you listened to?: Sadly Sings Destiny - Blind Guardian          

                            17. Last album you bought?: Dark Passion Play - Nightwish              

                            18. Last song that made you cry?: My tear ducts are dry and shriveled up. Music doesn’t make me cry               

                            19. Last song that made you smile?: The Greatest Show On Earth - Nightwish. The climax is so satisfying and beautiful              

                           20. Recent artist/band you’ve started to like: The Birthday Massacre. They’re sort of an 80s tinged metalcore band and they’re pretty decent, but not very popular               

                            21. Name one of your playlists: I’ve literally never bothered with playlists               

                            22. What songs are on that playlist?: Read above               

                            23. Artist/Band that has saved you life?: If you mean literally saved me, no one. I’ve never been suicidal, and as awesome as it would be i’ve never fought somebody with fitting music being played giving me the determination to beat them               

                            24. Longest song on your iPod?  Well I’m not totally sure, i’m gonna say And Then There Was Silence - Blind Guardian             

                            25. Shortest song on your iPod? No idea           

                            26. Most played song in your iTunes: No clue. Probably Nemo - Nightwish               

                            27. Do you play an instrument?: I don’t have a musical bone in my body              

                            28. One instrument you wish you played: I mean I could maybe see myself playing drums, or possibly heavy metal riffs on a guitar, but idk really.               

                            29. Name one band/artist you used to love but now loathe: Not really anyone.              

                            30. What’s one song you have on your iPod that you always skip when on shuffle but have never deleted?: Theres a lot, one is New Life - Thomas Bergersen. Not that its a bad song, I just never really feel like listening to it.