Munirando II

This work builds on the precedent of Munirando for clarinet and piano (Park Lane Group commission 1995), implying the development of a series of pieces under this title, for a solo instrument with piano. The approach in both pieces is virtuosic and based on the persistence of one type of flow, relying on regular and persistent rhythmic motion. The obvious model in this respect is Bach. 

To invoke Bach as an influence may seem unoriginal, unless one remembers that regularity of rhythmic flow has been absent from most of the classical music of the last 100  years. Regular rhythm is generally perceived to be at odds with prevailing compositional pursuits focused on an aesthetic of the discontinuous. The exceptions have tended to be pulse-based music from minimalists and post-minimalists, where regularity approaches mechanicity, and where harmony and other pitch-driven developmental processes are de-prioritised.

Munirando II seeks to instal in the listener’s mind a subdivision of the beat into five semiquavers as the norm, adhering to this sub-count so consistently that any departure from it will sound irregular or, as the term for exceptional beat subdivisions goes, ‘irrational’. 

My intention is to achieve the above without attracting undue attention to the rhythmic proposition, that is, while ensuring a natural flow that steers the listener’s perception along a middle course. In other words, the aspiration is to produce a rounded piece, not a one-issue or one-technique statement.  

The technical challenges posed by the piece caused its rejection by its commissioner (New York 1998). Subsequent rejections occasioned incremental simplification of the piece, but even in its 2002 version it was declined by several violinists. Eventually Darragh Morgan and Mary Dullea premièred it in London in 2009.

© Agustín Fernández 2013

Danzas místicas

Agustín Fernández

Danzas místicas

(2006)

i. pruebas de fuego

ii. claro de luna

iii. cambios de forma

En una frase muy citada de Octavio Paz, “el poeta no tiene biografía; su obra es su biografía”, se encuentra también la clave del funcionamiento de muchos compositores. Es difícil no experimentar el trabajo creativo como una especie de alquimia que convierte las experiencias de la vida real en música. Así lo experimento yo, y esta obra es un ejemplo claro. 

El primer movimiento, titulado “pruebas de fuego” rescata ideas de mi obra Fuego (1987), llevándolas en una dirección muy distinta. El fuego de 1987 era opresivo y político, mientras que el fuego de Danzas místicas es un fuego que envuelve, prueba el temple, destruye lo débil y consagra lo fuerte, transforma y da energía. 

El segundo movimiento, “claro de luna”, refleja musicalmente la luz ardiente y al mismo tiempo helada que arroja la luna sobre la noche, produciendo una quieta efervescencia de voces y presencias que casi siempre callan, pero cobran vida en luna llena. 

“cambios de forma” se basa en transformaciones del material anterior. Con intención sinóptica, las ideas que primero fueron violentas y luego nocturnas, ahora se resumen, se comprimen y se reciclan con un carácter de celebración de la energía obtenida. 

La obra fue encargada por Northern Sinfonia y estrenada por esa orquesta, bajo la dirección de Thomas Zehetmair, en el Festival de Huddersfield de 2006.

© Agustín Fernández 2010

String Quartet No. 1, Montes'

Agustín Fernández

String Quartet No 1, ‘Montes’

i.                   City of Silence

ii.                Gate of the Moon

iii.             Music and Land

This work is a musical tribute to the Bolivian painter Fernando Montes, who died in January 2007 in London. The quartet is in three movements, each addressing one of Montes’s paintings. In some cases the connection is structural, extracting ideas for the organisation of musical material from the layout of the images. In all three cases, the music is an exploration of expressive resonances perceived from the paintings, as well as a reflection on the shared aspects in the painter’s and the composer’s backgrounds.

Thus, ‘City of Silence’ evokes the hieratic starkness of the eponymous painting. ‘Gate of the Moon’ explores an idea suggested by the painting – where a silver light radiates from the centre outward – and builds on material from ‘mooncast’ from my Mystical Dances.  ‘Music and Land’ takes Montes’s idea of two drummers and a piper to generate music that has some of the character of Andean pipes’ playing with percussive accompaniment.

The piece was first performed by the Momenta Quartet on 28 November 2007 at Rock Hall Auditorium, Philadelphia.

© Agustín Fernández

A to Z

A to Z (2001-2002)

This is an ongoing cycle of small études exploring the technical and expressive possibilities of various combinations of flutes and guitars, played by two performers. The work is being written specially for Stefan Östersjö and Terje Thiwång. When they gave the first performance in Malmö in April 2001 there were four études. Today the series consists of nine, with transitional passages added to facilitates instrument changes. The first performance of this fuller version took place in Stockholm in 2005.

Wounded Angel

Wounded Angel (1989)

The title is borrowed from that of a painting by the Finnish painter Hugo Simberg (1873-1917), in which two peasant children are depicted carrying an injured angel on a stretcher.

 

The music was conceived as a prelude to the picture, in which I attempt to explore the inexplicable: what happened just before the scene Simberg depicts? The end of the piece should be the start of the painting.

 

My Wounded Angel was realised at the studios of City University, London, and first performed – in an earlier version – by myself at the Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam, in 1989. It is available in two recordings: by myself on NMC (Mixed), and by Stefan Östersjö on dB (Playtime)

Peregrine

Programme note 1


Agustín Fernández: Peregrine

The title refers to a number of different things: to a falcon, to something outlandish, to a literal translation of the Spanish for ‘pilgrim’ (peregrino), and hence to a poem by the Bolivian poet Ricardo Jaimes Freire: Peregrina paloma imaginaria (literally ‘peregrine imaginary dove’, but the main thing here is the rhythm formed by the words in Spanish). The lone, high-flying predator, often a condor or an eagle, is a recurrent theme in Bolivian folklore. So is the dove as a symbol of gentleness and love. What happens when the two meet? This musical exploration tests the extent to which lightness of texture can survive an accumulation of rhythmic impetus.

Peregrine was commissioned by Joel Sachs for the New Juilliard Ensemble, who gave the first performance at Lincoln Center in December 1996. The Tyneside ensemble Vaganza performed it in 1997 conducted by Ilan Volkov. The current version is an extensive revision prepared for a repeat performance at Lincoln Center in November 2005.

© Agustín Fernández

Programme note 2


Agustín Fernández: Peregrine

There are different possible meanings to the above title; any of them is appropriate to the piece. You can picture a predatory bird soaring through the skies and searching for prey. You can visualise the ruthless hunter swooping down on an innocent lamb. In the lyrics of some folksongs I heard in childhood, the high-flying bird is a spy, commissioned to come back and tell you what the person you desire gets up to when you cannot see them. Or you can think of a pilgrimage from place to place, or from rock to mountain. While admitting of these associations, this piece of music deals specifically with flight, the kinetic phenomenon. The prowess of defying gravity to take off and ascend, the gathering of momentum in the air, the calm confidence of gliding with motionless wings, and above all the exhilarating daredevilry of seeing how low it is possible to go without coming crashing down.

Peregrine was commissioned by Joel Sachs for the New Juilliard Ensemble, who gave the first performance at Lincoln Center in December 1996. The Tyneside ensemble Vaganza performed it in 1997 conducted by Ilan Volkov. The current version is an extensive revision prepared for a repeat performance at Lincoln Center in November 2005.

© Agustín Fernández

Danza de la loma

1986

Duración: 11 minutos

Compuse esta pieza a pedido de la orquesta de Guildhall School of Music and Drama de Londres en 1986, cuando yo iniciaba un doctorado en la universidad City de la misma ciudad. Después de su estreno, bajo el título inicial de Just a Dance (or Two) la hube de revisar y modificar radicalmente y en su nueva versión, con nuevo título, la han ejecutado el grupo Anemone de York, la Orquesta Sinfónica de la BBC, la Orquesta de Ulster y la Orquesta de Cadaqués. Aunque en este último caso el concierto era del Ensemble de Vientos de dicha orquesta, para mí el concepto de la obra es esencialmente orquestal, de ahí el subtítulo “para orquesta sin cuerdas”.

El objetivo principal era el de crear música que expresara con colores vívidos el ambiente semi-rural en el que me crié, en Cochabamba, el valle central de Bolivia. Hoy en día Cochabamba es una urbe de carácter eminentemente citadino; cuando yo crecía en ella en los años sesenta y comienzos de los setenta su metabolismo alimentado por el campo era evidente en todos los aspectos, dándole un sabor rural. Yo quería que la música tuviera algo de la cualidad inmediata, tangible y física que tuvo para mí ese entorno, y que de la música se desprendieran los olores, colores y sudores de la tierra, como lo han conseguido pocos hasta ahora, como Stravinsky en La consagración de la primavera. Por supuesto que mi pieza está construida en menor escala – una estructura de once minutos y no un ballet completo – por eso me pareció importante llamarla Danza de la loma; “montaña” habría sido excesivo para esta modesta duración. Además, el término “loma” se presta mejor para describir un ascenso lento y un descenso rápido, que es la estructura que articula Danza de la loma.

La modalidad es la de una doble danza, en la que la orquesta se separa en dos mitades, cada una de las cuales ejecuta su propia danza y se atiene a ella a todo trance, avanzando gradualmente hacia su clímax. En la versión original la simultaneidad de las dos danzas era constante y el clímax era simultáneo, mientras que en Danza de la loma las danzas muchas veces alternan para poder registrarse en la percepción del oyente, y a medida que se acercan a su clímax requieren de toda la orquesta para conseguir la intensidad necesaria, forzando así una alternación por razones de orquestación.