|.30||“andere route, hetzelfde zicht”
another route, same view
22.214.171.124 126.96.36.199 mand., 2 hrps. clsta. pnino. 2 pnos, 6 perc. 188.8.131.52.6
|available||score at donemus|
|dedication||to Carl Ruggles and Pierre Schaeffer|
|score||download example A (pdf)
download example B (pdf)
download example C (pdf)
|written with||financial support of the Fonds voor de Scheppende Toonkunst|
text to 30
‘Andere route, hetzelfde zicht…’
is based on 2 specific fascinations:
1. time and form as the main components of a composition
2. decay and minor imperfections
One of the fascinating aspects of composing is the condensation of time. One creates an artificial piece of time and places it on top of ‘normal’ time. There is the possibility to speed up or slow down the perception of time. There is the possibility to immerse the audience in permanently ticking clockwork. 76 times 365 mornings, afternoons, evenings, nights and then goodbye.
The form allows the placing of time in the most perfect and functional proportion. Establishing a good form is the most important part of my writing process.
In order to articulate time and form as clearly as possible, I reduce the content (notes, rhythms, timbre) as much as possible.
Instrumentation is grouped, there are no mixtures.
One hears 5 groups: wood, brass, string, percussion and chord instruments.
Each group has its own identity, it’s own fixed pedal point.
Each group’s functionality has been reduced to the bone.
The result is, what I would like to describe as a ‘metal scaffold for an orchestra’.
To sum it up with Judith Herzberg’s words:
“…the things I really appreciate, are so normal. It makes me think: how does someone know it’s good? Why doesn’t he or she think: well, that’s so simple, I’d better not show it to anyone” (Vrij Nederland, 1996)
A second emphasis lies on decay, on small imperfections.
I like rust, lazy eyes, broken voices, scratched film.
Something that is fine in itself, but stained by time or nature.
I’ve applied small imperfections to the element of instrumentation.
Lopsided, rusty timbres are created by using open and extreme positions, harmonics, out-of-tune instruments (piano 2, pianino) and small homemade percussions (metal parts, planks, stones, etc.)
The fact that this work is dedicated to Pierre Schaeffer has everything to do with small imperfections. The creaky musique concrète of the 1950’s, fine in itself, becomes disarming because of its primitive and frank vivacity.
If decay plays a particular part here, it is also because there are some considerations beyond music underlying this work.
Hence the following programme notes.
Dying off, is what this is about. One third into the work all material freezes up. Something has happened that cannot be undone. One person realizes he is getting old, another commits a felony and is paralyzed by his conscience.
The time ticking throughout the work; it’s also about that.
Despite periods of apathy, of depression, in which everything grinds to a halt (especially thinking, but also moving), time keeps on ticking.
There are a number of musical concepts that precede one another, alternate each other.
The most characteristic is the “old-English march”, used in Great-Britain’s distant past for royal funeral processions. It is played on six husky tenor drums.
Ah well, dying, to be honest, that is what this is about.
The first drafts for this work were made in 1995 after the death of my parents. I realized that dying starts with the loss of one’s parents, one’s roots.
Inside this work, this realization dawns at one-third of the piece, after 7 minutes: an energetic development is stunted, nothing will ever be as it was.
Bye, sweet innocence.