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- Modular (score PDF)
Modular (score PDF)
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€18.00
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- you are buying: 1 full score, 24 pages (downloadable PDF)
- instrumentation: bass clarinet and violin
- composition year: 2009
- duration: 10:10 min.
- format: A3 landscape
Modular
I often think that the form or my music resembles a walk I take through a labyrinth: I lose the line of the musical discourse in order to find it after having taken many turns. In a labyrinth, every step we take is charged with a great amount of uncertainty, and our orientation becomes confused because of the similarity of the walls. Something like this happens, too, when I compose.
This aspect of uncertainty, which I approached in my most recent music, is close to the painterly techniques and creative process of some artists. The statement by Paul Klee “taking a line for a walk” seems to me similar to walking into a labyrinth. Quoting Klee again, I would say that I take a sonic line for a walk: the moments of arrest, the changes of velocity, the suspended moments and the occasional retrograde feeling help a sonorous object to emerge within a musical context. In painting, the line taken for a walk by the hand of the painter produces a pictorial object.
This title of the piece is closer to the concept of “modelate” (to model) rather than to the concept of “a module”; however, both terms would complement each other in a process of musical creation. “To model” has a material and an aspectual origin, as if referring to sculpted material. Once the material has been formed by the hands of the sculptor it begins to generate “modules”, i.e. forms with a certain meaning, things that tell us something, the pieces of a puzzle that we can articulate and put together. We are thus able to gaze on “a state of things”. This process of emergence in a musical process leads me to reflect on the words of Cézanne, who maintained: “I begin to separate myself from the landscape and I begin to perceive it.” This holds true for me when I start to construct a new piece.
I think about the sonority of this work as if the material were to be deformed and become a soft paste, one hard to unify, as if it was an unmanageable plasma spilling everywhere. When I compose, I like to think of the fluidity of the material and I hope I communicate this idea as a sonic sensation.
I often think that the form or my music resembles a walk I take through a labyrinth: I lose the line of the musical discourse in order to find it after having taken many turns. In a labyrinth, every step we take is charged with a great amount of uncertainty, and our orientation becomes confused because of the similarity of the walls. Something like this happens, too, when I compose.
This aspect of uncertainty, which I approached in my most recent music, is close to the painterly techniques and creative process of some artists. The statement by Paul Klee “taking a line for a walk” seems to me similar to walking into a labyrinth. Quoting Klee again, I would say that I take a sonic line for a walk: the moments of arrest, the changes of velocity, the suspended moments and the occasional retrograde feeling help a sonorous object to emerge within a musical context. In painting, the line taken for a walk by the hand of the painter produces a pictorial object.
This title of the piece is closer to the concept of “modelate” (to model) rather than to the concept of “a module”; however, both terms would complement each other in a process of musical creation. “To model” has a material and an aspectual origin, as if referring to sculpted material. Once the material has been formed by the hands of the sculptor it begins to generate “modules”, i.e. forms with a certain meaning, things that tell us something, the pieces of a puzzle that we can articulate and put together. We are thus able to gaze on “a state of things”. This process of emergence in a musical process leads me to reflect on the words of Cézanne, who maintained: “I begin to separate myself from the landscape and I begin to perceive it.” This holds true for me when I start to construct a new piece.
I think about the sonority of this work as if the material were to be deformed and become a soft paste, one hard to unify, as if it was an unmanageable plasma spilling everywhere. When I compose, I like to think of the fluidity of the material and I hope I communicate this idea as a sonic sensation.