James's Fire

James Wishart was an inspirational and encouraging supervisor for my studies in composition at Liverpool University. After my masters’ graduation, he surprised me by commissioning me to write a new work for a concert he was going to conduct with the Orchestra of the Metropolitan Cathedral. This was 1986.

My response to this thrilling commission - my first in the UK - was also a response to the military dictatorships I had left behind in South America. In particular to an incident that year, where, during a protest in Santiago, Pinochet’s forces set fire to two students, one of whom died from his burns. The piece, which I entitled Fuego, explored images of fire and violence in some of their possible technical and metaphorical applications to music. After its Liverpool première, the piece went on to be performed in various countries.

In 2016, thirty years after the incident, I had the unexpected opportunity to communicate with the survivor - the one who did not die, Carmen Quintana. On a much more cheerful note, in 2016 James celebrates his sixtieth birthday. For very different reasons, the two living people to whom Fuego owes its existence have been very much in mind lately.

James’s Fire weaves together ideas from Fuego in a new, celebratory context. One connecting thread, in my mind at least, is the sense of drive and onward struggle. Another, more tangible connection is the repeated presence of a quotation from James’s Nimue’s Song.

Fuego (in English)

Agustín Fernández
Fuego
(1987)

The title of this work refers to an utterly unromantic kind of fire: the fire that, on 2 July 1986, burned two Chilean students outside Santiago. It was a man-made fire, resulting from soldiers pouring kerosene and deliberately setting the youngsters alight. This was, it seems, some kind of exemplary punishment Pinochet’s people had wanted to impart; for this purpose, they picked their two victims apparently at random from a dispersing crowd during a national strike.

Fire had been a pervasive element of Chilean life during this period. The presidential palace had burned as Pinochet came to power, civil rights campaigner Sebastián Acevedo had burned himself alive in protest at Pinochet’s atrocities, and candles had been lit in the streets at night to commemorate the dead in the mid-1980s.

In 1987 this piece was a protest too, as well as a threnody for the dead and a eulogy for the courage of those Chileans who, in the face of real danger, revolted on. But also, I confess, Fuego is an expression of fascination, of hipnosis at this strange recurrence of fire. The changing guises of fire in different situations suggested the structure: a theme and seven variations.

Fuego was commissioned by the Orchestra of the Metropolitan Cathedral of Christ the King, Liverpool, and it was first performed by them under James Wishart, at the Cathedral, on 23 May 1987. It is dedicated to the two victims, Rodrigo Rojas de Negri and Carmen Gloria Quintana.

© Agustín Fernández

Fuego (en castellano)

Agustín Fernández
Fuego
(1987)

El título de esta obra se refiere a un tipo nada romántico de fuego: el fuego que el 2 de julio de 1986 quemó a dos estudiantes chilenos en las afueras de Santiago. No fue un fuego accidental, sino hecho a propósito, cuando soldados de Pinochet usaron queroseno y fósforos con la intención de quemar a los dos jóvenes. Según parece, se trataba de una suerte de castigo ejemplar que las Fuerzas Armadas chilenas habían querido imponer, y con tal motivo habían escogido a sus víctimas más o menos al azar, cuando dispersaban a una manifestación durante una huelga general.

El fuego es un elemento que adquirió un poder simbólico en la vida chilena de este periodo. La casa presidencial (La Moneda) ardió cuando Pinochet subió al poder. El activista Sebastián Acevedo se prendió fuego en protesta por las atrocidades del régimen. La población solía encender velas de noche en memoria de los muertos incontables.

En 1987 esta pieza fue también una protesta, además de un treno por los muertos y un elogio al coraje de los muchos chilenos que, de cara al peligro de muerte, se rebelaron. Pero esta música es también, lo confieso, una expresión de fascinación, de hipnosis ante esa extraña recurrencia del fuego. Las mutaciones del fuego en distintas situaciones me dictó la forma: un tema y siete variaciones.

Fuego fue escrita por encargo de la Orquesta de la Catedral Metroplitana de Cristo Rey, Liverpool, y fue estrenada por esa orquesta bajo la dirección de James Wishart, en la Catedral, el 23 de mayo de 1987. La pieza está dedicada a las dos víctimas, Rodrigo Rojas de Negri y Carmen Gloria Quintana.

© Agustín Fernández