The Bull-Headed Lyre

Thinking Through Martin Heidegger (1889-1976)’s “The Origin of the Work of Art”

The Bull-Headed Lyre, with its golden bull head and mythological inlays, is not simply an object of musical performance—it is a gathering of myth, ritual, and presence. According to Heidegger, art gathers the gods, the mortals, the earth, and the sky. This lyre does exactly that.

The lyre brings world into being—not merely as sound, but as cosmology. The bull’s head—golden, stylized, divine—projects a world where music is not entertainment but ritual conduit. The inlays tell stories—of underworld journeys, of sacred animals, of god-animal-human hybrids. The earth, present in lapis lazuli, shell, and wood, offers the rawness of matter. Yet this matter is not concealed. It is raised—refined, transformed—not hidden, but held back just enough so that the world may shine through.

Heidegger insists that art reveals by setting into work the strife between disclosure and concealment. The lyre’s beauty, its shine, does not dissolve its mystery. On the contrary, the more it reveals—its ornate surface, its form—the more it withdraws into sacred depth. It is a vehicle for music, but also for myth’s re-activation. It lets being sing.