Composer & Sigurd
Sigurd
Ever wonder if the sagas of Odin and Thor have their own hidden rhythm, like a melody begging to be captured on a score?
Composer
The sagas do have a hidden rhythm, a pulse that feels almost like a drumbeat under the words, waiting to be turned into a score—it's the kind of subtle pattern that makes the whole myth resonate on a deeper level.
Sigurd
Ah, yes, those ancient verses do pulse like a drum beneath the prose. Imagine taking that beat and sketching it on a stave, each saga a rhythmical heartbeat. Still, I wonder—does the modern ear catch it, or is it a trick the mind plays on us?
Composer
I think the modern ear can feel it if the melody is laid out just right—sometimes it’s just a matter of translating the ancient pulse into a language the brain recognises, not tricking the mind but honoring the rhythm that’s always been there.
Sigurd
Exactly, you’re saying we can translate the saga’s heartbeat into a language our ears know, not trick the mind but pay homage to the ancient rhythm that always sang beneath the words. It’s a bit like turning old runes into a modern song—honour the source, but let the beat breathe anew.
Composer
Exactly, the key is to listen for that ancient pulse, then let it flow into a modern frame—like a bridge that lets the old runes sing with fresh notes, honoring the original while letting the rhythm breathe anew.
Sigurd
Listening for that pulse is like catching a whisper from the old runes, then letting it swell into a melody that feels both familiar and fresh—honour the original beat, but let the rhythm breathe in a new frame.
Composer
I love how that image feels—like a secret whisper turned into a living chord. It’s the only way to keep the old runes alive, just breathing in a new language while still honoring their ancient heart.