Cámara

Nota de programa:

Anys enrere vaig descobrir, casualment, un vi de la Terra Alta de nom força poètic, Llàgrimes de tardor, i vaig pensar que, si sorgia l’ocasió, miraria de compondre una obra amb aquest mateix títol. Qui m’havia de dir que, temps després, l’interès pels haikus japonesos em conduiria a descobrir l’expressió “vent de tardor”, un motiu recurrent que impregna de melangia molts d’aquests poemes.

La història recent ens ha dut, d’altra banda, a ser testimonis d’uns fets excepcionals durant les acaballes de setembre i l’inici d’un octubre malaguanyat, les conseqüències dels quals encara no podem albirar.

L’esperit de desconsol associat a l’estació autumnal va accentuar-se més encara quan vam saber que el nostre company de feina, en Fèlix, portava mala peça al teler. L’estiu passat, la malaltia se’l va endur, però en la memòria de tots aquells que el vam conèixer restaran sempre les seves intervencions assenyades, la seva humilitat i, sobretot, el gran compromís amb la seva tasca com a professor.

Aquesta senzilla elegia, que s’enceta amb una atmosfera ben tardorenca i que, lentament, va assolint un clima més lluminós i esperançat, vol retre-li homenatge.

Josep Maria Guix

Nota de programa:

Años atrás descubrí por casualidad un vino de la DO Terra Alta cuyo nombre resultaba sumamente poético, Llàgrimes de tardor (Lágrimas de otoño), y pensé que, si surgía la ocasión, compondría una obra bajo ese mismo título. El azar me condujo, tiempo después, a interesarme por los haikus japoneses, así como al descubrimiento de la expresión “viento de otoño”, un motivo habitual que impregna de melancolía buena parte de dichos poemas.

En nuestra historia reciente, por otra parte, hemos sido testigos de unos acontecimientos excepcionales a finales de septiembre y principios de octubre, hechos cuyas consecuencias no podemos vislumbrar aún.

Ese espíritu de nostalgia otoñal se acrecentó aún más al conocer el grave pronóstico de nuestro compañero de trabajo, Fèlix, y, sobre todo, cuando, el pasado verano, la enfermedad pudo con él. Pero los recuerdos que nos lega siguen muy vivos: una persona humilde, de buen juicio y con un compromiso enorme en su labor docente.

Esta breve elegía, que recrea en sus primeros compases esa atmósfera otoñal antes de dar paso a una luz de esperanza, quiere rendirle homenaje.

Josep Maria Guix

Program note:

Years ago I casually discovered a wine with a poetic name. It was called Llàgrimes de tardor (Autumn Tears). I found it quite inspirational and the idea of writing a composition with the same name started floating around my mind.

Destiny took me, years later, to get interested in haikus and I discovered the expression ‘Autumn Wind’, a frequent motive which impregnates the poems with melancholy.

Furthermore, in our recent history, we have witnessed exceptional events at the end of September and beginning of October which consequences are yet to come.

The spirit of nostalgia increased even more when my dear colleague, Fèlix, got very sick and eventually, the desease took him away from us. Despite this tragic end our thoughts and prayers on him are still very much alive: a humble, kind-hearted and determined man.

This short elegy recreates in the first measures this autumnal atmosphere opening the doors to hope and honouring him.

Josep Maria Guix

Restless Wind, parteix dʼun plantejament tècnic basat en una idea molt senzilla: mirar de produir amb un quartet de clarinets un joc sonor i espacial similar al dʼuna obra per a instrument solista amb tractament electrònic en temps real –filtratges i delays, sobretot.
Pel que fa al caire poètic, el nom de l’obra prové de la lletra d’Across the Universe, (“… like a restless wind inside a letter box…”), i pretén evocar el moviment del vent en una mena de divertimento no exempt d’un cert to tardorenc relacionat amb el món de la poesia japonesa.

Nota de programa:
Quan mesos enrere vaig enllestir la composició d’uns haikus per a violoncel sol vaig adonar-me que alguns d’ells demanaven un desenvolupament i una ampliació ulteriors. De seguida vaig pensar en el quartet de corda com a mitjà idoni per seguir insistint en una música subtil i concentrada, que defuig la bullanga quotidiana i els escarafalls estètics per tal de bastir un discurs intimista, nu de tot ornament superflu.
El so d’una campana en la llunyania –en el primer dels haikus-, el recorregut plaent d’una papallona al costat d’un pètal que cau –cas del segon- i el soroll mecànic d’una pedregada nocturna –darrer haiku- originen unes peces que, amb pretensió evocadora, prioritzen el timbre, el contrapunt i el ritme, respectivament.
I.
El sonido de la campana / se expande / en la bruma del alba.
BASHO
II.
Una mariposa midiéndose / Con un pétalo que cae: / “A ver quién es más leve”.
ANÓNIMO
III.
Ruido del granizo. / Ruido del telégrafo. / Paisaje nocturno por la ventana.
SETSUJIN

This short composition is based on a Japanese haiku by Jôsô. The poem reflects a deep feeling of sadness during a light snowfall.

Comissioned by the players –Jordi Torrent and Qiao Zhang- the work coincides with the recent death of Ramón Oteo, a wise professor and a family friend. He showed me how to enjoy great literature in a passionate way.

This is the reason why the piece evolves from an initial agitation to an elegiac, intimist mood, although hopefull.

The sleet falls
As if coming through the bottom
Of loneliness

Jôsô

Partitura:

Rumor de agua (Water noise) is a brief composition in three movements, based on Japanese haikus. The presence of water (sea, river, rain) is the structural axis of the whole work.

The first movement contains two main ideas: a distant frozen Winter sea with whale songs and sounds (clarinet and viola), and the Spring hope built on aquatic piano sounds.

The second movement is a quite nocturne with extremely delicate sounds.

Rain references, from thunder to drizzle, are the basis of the last movement of this fragile, subtle music.

This work, commissioned by pianists Emili Brugalla and Vesko Stambolov, takes the idea of wind chimes as point of departure. The piece evolves from a light beginning in canon to an astonishing end, in which both pianos play the role of four big church bells. Main melodic material consists in a quick succession of perfect fourths built in the principle of electronic delay.

This three little pieces are based on the three haikus by Bashô, Buson and Kanna written above. The music, following the japanese poems and also linked to the extremely inspiring pictures of Ukiyo-e, is trying to recreate the essence of this subtle and evocative world. The point of departure is Tres haikus per a cello i piano (2009).

This short work for clarinet and piano is based on the five Japanese haikus written above. The wind sound is one of the main elements and the music is trying to recreate images and feelings related to the original poems. Concentration, refinement and beauty are the compositional principles found in haikus and, at the same time, in this music.

the lake is slowly
lost in mist…
evening falls

from evening mist
the bell
of life passing

in morning mist
a frenzy of drops
from the tree

The haiku captures the beauty of the moment, uniting image and feeling to describe what we see, subtly trapping the essence of the world. Of necessity it must be brief, as it conveys truth concentrated to the highest degree. The poems by Issa Kobayashi (1763-1828) written above, are the starting point for this music, similarly brief, refined and evocative.

A linking device gives unity to the whole: the mist. A mist whose presence in the composition blurs melodic contours, diffuses harmonies, modulates colours, crushes the rhythm. The sound emerges from out of the mist and the mist submerges itself within the sound, and within our thoughts.

In the work, each poem alludes to one movement. The peaceful introduction evokes nocturne and is charged with spirituality: time stands still. The bell awakens random reminiscences, rewinds lived-through moments. With the morning the freshness returns, the present, the pleasure of the game, a fleeting scherzo.

Partitura:

This three little pieces are based on the three haikus by Bashô, Buson and Kanna written above. The music, following the japanese poems and also linked to the extremely inspiring pictures of Ukiyo-e, is trying to recreate the essence of this subtle and evocative world. The composition was premiered in Girona cathedral during the Religious and World Music Festival (2009).