This short tribute to my former composition teacher Hans Kox, which I composed for and played during his funeral service, connects the opening bars of his opera The Portrait of Dorian Gray with motifs of two medieval songs from the Carmina Burana Codex, namely Celum non Animum and Procurans Odium. The central theme of both songs is stabilitas, the Latin word for steadfastness, cannot be taken off its course, not even by negativity from outside. This was a central theme in Hans’ life, and to his steadfastness we owe the above-mentioned exquisite opera and all his other music.
The piece was originally composed for piano solo. I wrote this version a bit later.
This short tribute to my former composition teacher Hans Kox, which I composed for and played during his funeral service, connects the opening bars of his opera The Portrait of Dorian Gray with motifs of two medieval songs from the Carmina Burana Codex, namely Celum non Animum and Procurans Odium. The central theme of both songs is stabilitas, the Latin word for steadfastness, cannot be taken off its course, not even by negativity from outside. This was a central theme in Hans’ life, and to his steadfastness we owe the above-mentioned exquisite opera and all his other music.
I. Die Rote Jacke II. Die geschlossene Tür III. Meine Mutter in der Küche IV. Erwachsenenalter V. Der Kirschbaum
After the death of Mimi Deckers-Dijs (1936 – 2013), a well-known theologian and also my mother-in-law, a large number of poems emerged that she had written in the course of her life. Her husband and her oldest daughter took the initiative to compile an anthology from them and to release them in book form. And I selected a number of her poems with the intention of putting them to music.
This song cycle is the first result of this. The poems are about a traumatic event in early childhood and about the way in which this event affects later life. With penetrating words, Mimi Deckers-Dijs expresses her feelings, both from the perspective of her as a child and from her as an adult.
The poems have been translated into German by me, because in my opinion the expressive power of Mimi’s words fits very well with the German language. In addition, having done so creates a certain distance from the words that Mimi has written but never brought out herself.
Sjaak Deckers, oldest son of Mimi, has made it possible for me to compose this cycle of songs. I would like to thank him very much for this.
Na het overlijden van Mimi Deckers-Dijs (1936 – 2013), een bekende theologe en tevens mijn schoonmoeder, kwam er een groot aantal gedichten boven water, die ze in de loop van haar leven geschreven had. Haar echtgenoot en haar oudste dochter namen het initiatief om er een bloemlezing uit samen te stellen en deze in boekvorm uit te brengen. En zelf koos ik een aantal van haar gedichten uit met de bedoeling deze op muziek te zetten.
Deze liederencyclus is het eerste resultaat hiervan. De gedichten gaan over een traumatische gebeurtenis in de vroege jeugd en over de manier waarop deze gebeurtenis doorwerkt in het latere leven. Met indringende woorden geeft Mimi Deckers-Dijs uitdrukking aan haar gevoelens, zowel vanuit het perspectief van haar als kind als ook van haar als volwassene.
De gedichten zijn door mij in het Duits vertaald, omdat de expressieve kracht van Mimi’s woorden naar mijn gevoel heel goed past bij de Duitse taal. Daarnaast schept dit een zekere afstand tot de woorden die Mimi heeft geschreven maar nooit zelf naar buiten bracht.
Sjaak Deckers, oudste zoon van Mimi, heeft het me mogelijk gemaakt deze liederencyclus te componeren. Ik wil hem graag heel hartelijk hiervoor bedanken.
Nach dem Tod von Mimi Deckers-Dijs (1936 – 2013), einer bekannten Theologin und auch meiner Schwiegermutter, tauchte eine Vielzahl von Gedichten auf, welche sie im Laufe ihres Lebens geschrieben hatte. Ihr Ehemann und ihre älteste Tochter ergriffen die Initiative, daraus eine Anthologie zusammenzustellen und in Buchform zu veröffentlichen. Einige ihrer Gedichte habe ich dann ausgewählt, um diese zu vertonen.
Dieser Liederzyklus ist das erste Ergebnis daraus. Die Gedichte handeln von einem traumatischen Ereignis in der frühen Kindheit und davon, wie sich dieses Ereignis auf das spätere Leben ausgewirkt hat. Mit eindringlichen Worten drückt Mimi Deckers-Dijs ihre Gefühle aus, sowohl aus ihrer Perspektive als Kind als auch als Erwachsene.
Die Gedichte wurden von mir ins Deutsche übersetzt, da die Ausdruckskraft von Mimis Worten meiner Meinung nach sehr gut zur deutschen Sprache passt. Außerdem entsteht so eine gewisse Distanz zu den Worten, die Mimi geschrieben, aber nie selber an die Öffentlichkeit brachte.
Sjaak Deckers, der älteste Sohn von Mimi, hat es mir ermöglicht, diesen Liederzyklus zu komponieren. Dafür möchte ich ihm recht herzlich danken.
DE GESLOTEN DEUR
DER GESCHLOSSENE TÜR
THE CLOSED DOOR
I. Het rode jasje
Mama had het gemaakt.
Het roodkapjasje.
Mama maakte alles.
Mama maakte altijd kleren die namen hadden.
Laatst op zondagmorgen,
de Tiroler jurk.
Zij wachtte in haar jurk met papa totdat hij klaar was.
En toen liepen zij samen in de zon naar de kerk.
En toen gebeurde op een dag het vreemde.
Mama was weg. Zomaar weg met een grote meneer.
Zij stond bij de tafel in de kamer en huilde.
Waarom huilde ze. Ze hoefde toch niet weg.
Als die man niet lief voor haar was
kon ze toch blijven?
Ze huilde.
Het rode jasje
leek zo weinig roodkapjes rood.
I. Die rote Jacke
Mama hat sie gemacht.
Die Rotkäppchen-Jacke.
Mama machte alles.
Mama machte immer Kleider, die Namen hatten.
Vor kurzem am Sonntagmorgen,
das Tiroler Kleid.
Sie wartete in ihrem Kleid mit Papa, bis er fertig war.
Und dann gingen sie zusammen in der Sonne zur Kirche.
Und dann passierte eines Tages das Eigenartige.
Mama war weg. Einfach so, mit einem großen Herrn.
Sie stand am Tisch im Zimmer und weinte.
Warum weinte sie? Sie musste doch nicht gehen.
Wenn dieser Mann nicht nett zu ihr wäre, könnte sie doch bleiben?
Sie weinte.
Die rote Jacke
schien so wenig Rotkäppchen-rot.
I. The red jacket
Mama had made it.
The Little Red Riding Hood jacket.
Mommy made everything.
Mama always made clothes that had names.
The other day, on Sunday morning,
the Tyrolean dress.
She waited in her dress with Dad until he was ready.
And then they walked to the church, together in the sun.
And then one day the strange thing happened.
Mama was gone. Just gone, with a big gentleman.
She was standing at the table in the room and crying.
Why was she crying? She didn’t have to leave.
If that man wasn’t kind to her,
she could just stay?
She was crying.
The red jacket
seemed so little Red Riding Hood red.
II. De gesloten deur
zo lang geleden
gisteren
was ik het kind
staande aan de deur die klemde
sneeuwvoetstappen op de mat
de deur ging nooit open
die middag huilde mijn moeder
stond bij de tafel
met haar zwarte hoed op
uit te leggen
dat ze weg moest
weg uit ons huis
weg van mijn vader
weg van mij
ze huilde
en ik zei
dat als ze wilde blijven
dat van mij mocht
dat ik lief zou zijn
liever
liefst
ze ging
de deur naar buiten wilde niet open
ik weet van de sneeuw op de mat
maar of ik schreeuwde
huilde
om mijn moeder riep?
mijn moeder liep weg
en nu nog steeds
ben ik haar godverlaten kind
altijd bang het lieve te verliezen
achter te blijven
voor een gesloten deur.
II. Die geschlossene Tür
so lange her
gestern
war ich das Kind
und stand an der Tür, die klemmte
Schneefußspuren auf der Matte
die Tür öffnete sich nie
an diesem Nachmittag weinte meine Mutter
stand am Tisch
trug ihren schwarzen Hut
und erklärte
dass sie gehen musste
weg von unserem Haus
weg von meinem Vater
weg von mir
sie weinte
und ich sagte
dass, wenn sie bleiben wolle
sie dürfe doch bleiben
dass ich süß sein würde
süßer
am süßesten
sie ging
die Tür nach draußen würde sich nicht öffnen
ich weiß noch über den Schnee auf der Matte
aber ob ich schrie
weinte
um meine Mutter rief?
meine Mutter ging weg
und jetzt noch immer
bin ich ihr gottverlassenes Kind
immer ängstlich, das Liebe zu verlieren
zurück zu bleiben
für eine geschlossene Tür.
II. The closed door
so long ago
yesterday
I was the child
standing at the door that was stuck
snow footsteps on the mat
the door never opened
that afternoon my mother cried
standing at the table
wearing her black hat
and explaining
that she had to leave
away from our house
away from my father
away from me
she was crying
and I said
that if she wanted to stay
she could just stay
that I would be sweet
sweeter
sweetest
she went
the door to the outside would not open
I still know about the snow on the mat
but whether I screamed
wept
cried for my mother?
my mother walked away
and still to this day
I am her godforsaken child
always afraid of losing what is lovely
to be left behind
before a closed door.
III. Mijn moeder in de keuken
Mijn moeder in de keuken
– wat is ze lief mijn moeder –
ze bezweert me niets te zeggen
aan mijn vader.
Wat niet te zeggen?
vaag in mijn herinnering
een vreemde man
voor mij van geen belang
speelgoed voor grote mensen
Mijn vader die me wakker maakt
– wat is hij lief mijn vader –
hij vraagt
was er bezoek vandaag
ja, zeg ik, vaag
de vreemde man beschrijvend
was ik wakende of weer in slaap
besef ik nu dan mijn verraad
ik had mijn moeder niet begrepen
nu niet
nooit
III. Meine Mutter in der Küche
Meine Mutter in der Küche
– wie süß sie ist meine Mutter –
sie beschwört mir nichts
zu meinem Vater zu sagen.
Was nicht zu sagen?
verschwommen in meiner Erinnerung
ein fremder Mann
für mich ohne Bedeutung
Spielzeug für Erwachsene
Mein Vater, der mich aufweckt
– wie süß er ist mein Vater –
er fragt
gab es heute Besuch
ja, sage ich, vage
den fremden Mann beschreibend
war ich wach oder wieder schlafend
erkenne ich nun meinen Verrat
ich habe meine Mutter nicht verstanden
jetzt nicht
niemals
III. My mother in the kitchen
My mother in the kitchen
– how sweet she is my mother –
she beseeches me to say nothing
to my father.
What not to say?
vague in my memory
a strange man
of no interest to me
toys for grown-ups
My father waking me up
– how sweet he is my father –
he asks
was there a visitor today
yes, I say, vaguely
describing the strange man
was I awake or asleep again
Do I now realize my betrayal
I didn’t understand my mother
not now
never
IV. Volwassenheid
Misschien leven de kinderen
wel stil aan het verdriet voorbij
huilen een wanhopig ogenblik
vergeten dan
en spelen verder
zich verliezende
in schone schijn
in het diepst
van hun ziel
slaan zij de feiten
klaar en helder op
en eindelijk volwassen
jaren later
bouwen zij een kooi
van koperen tralies
groen geworden angst
gepantserde ramen
trachten te vergeten
spelenderwijs te overleven
is slechts kinderen gegeven
volwassen
staat een mens
groot en rechtop voor zijn verdriet
de deur klemt weer
kan men haar openbreken?
IV. Erwachsenenalter
vielleicht leben die Kinder
stille an der Trauer vorbei
weinen einen verzweifelten Moment
vergessen dann
und spielen weiter
sich verlierend
im schönen Schein
im tiefsten
ihrer Seelen
speichern sie die Fakten
klar und eindeutig
und endlich erwachsen
Jahre später
bauen sie einen Käfig
von Kupferstangen
grün gewordener Angst
gepanzerte Fenster
versuchen zu vergessen
spielend zu überleben
ist nur Kinder gegeben
einmal erwachsen
steht ein Mensch
groß und aufrecht vor seinem Kummer
die Tür steckt wieder fest
kann man sie aufbrechen?
IV. Adulthood
Maybe the children live
silently beyond sorrow
they cry for a desperate moment
and then they forget
and continue playing
losing themselves
in beautiful appearance
in the deepest
of their souls
they store the facts
clearly and plainly
and finally grown-up
years later
they build a cage
of copper bars
fear turned green
armoured windows
trying to forget
playfully surviving
is only given to children
once an adult
a human being
stands tall and upright before his grief
the door is stuck again
can it be forced open?
V. De Kersenboom
De kersenboom in onze tuin
pronkt zich de blauwe hemel in
– ontroerend bruidsboeket in mei –
de winter wilde dit jaar
maar niet wijken
en in ons hart ontstond
vertwijfeld vragen
of dit jaar de woestijn
nog zou verdwijnen
het gras weer groen zou worden
en ik vreesde dat de bomen
nooit meer zouden spruiten
en nu ineens dat tere blauw
mei-blauw
niet nader te benoemen
en uit de bermen wijkt de dood
en samen met het groen
begin ook ik opnieuw te leven.
V. Der Kirschbaum
Der Kirschbaum in unserem Garten
protzt in den blauen Himmel hinein
– berührender Hochzeitsstrauß im Mai –
Der Winter wollte dieses Jahr
nicht nachgeben
und in unserem Herz entstand
ein verzweifeltes Fragen
ob dieses Jahr die Wüste
noch verschwinden würde
ob das Gras wieder grün werden würde
und ich fürchtete, dass die Bäume
nie wieder sprießen würden
und jetzt plötzlich dieses zarte Blau
Mai-blau
nicht näher zu deuten
und der Tod weicht von den Seitenstreifen
und zusammen mit dem Grün
fange auch ich an wieder zu leben.
V. The cherry tree
The cherry tree in our garden
is showing off into the blue sky
– a moving wedding bouquet in May –
this year, winter
didn’t want to yield
and in our hearts arose
a desperate questioning
whether this year the wasteland
would disappear
whether the grass would turn green again
and I feared that the trees
would never sprout again
and now suddenly this delicate blue
May-blue
impossible to determine
and death is departing from the berm
and together with the vegetation
I also start living again.
Übersetzung: Eduard de Boer, mit Dank an Ricardo Döniger für seine Hilfe
Commissioned for the Senttix project and Mr. Pedro Arcas by the Asociación Amigos de la Música de Yecla, Spain
My friend Ángel Hernandez Azorín came up with a suggestion to compose a piece about sleeping and dreaming, for an unusual combination of instruments: alto saxophone, vibraphone, violoncello, contrabass and piano. This idea resulted in a benign commission from the matrasses factory Ecus in Yecla.
The composition describes a night with sleeping and dreaming, and finally awakening with new energy and vigour. There are three movements:
Durmiendo (Sleeping), for alto saxophone, contrabass and piano. A movement with a tranquil and peaceful atmosphere
Soñando. (Dreaming), for violoncello, vibraphone and piano. About processing occurrences of the past day. At times, the atmosphere is somewhat surreal.
Nueva Aurora (A New Dawn), for all instruments. Having slept well and having benefited from dreaming has brought new vigour and energy for a bright new day.
It has been a great pleasure to write this composition, about a phenomenon we all know so well.
Commissioned by and dedicated to Albert Wissink and the Koorschool Midden-Gelderland, for the occasion of their 100-year jubilee
Composed for the day of the children’s choirs of the Koorschool Midden-Gelderland, February 8, 2020
Het is Feest
Het is feest!
Het is feest!
Een feest zoals er zelden is geweest!
De hele stad is opgefleurd,
Met vlaggen en slingers ingekleurd.
Er hangen posters in elke straat,
Met bonte letters van groot formaat,
Waarop iedereen leest:
Het is feest!
Het is feest!
De beiaardier speelt op het klokkenspel
En er is kermis, mét een carrousel.
De ijscoman die is niet wijs:
Hij geeft de kinderen gratis ijs,
Maar hij geniet misschien nog wel het aller, allermeest!
Ja, het is feest!
Het is feest!
Het is feest!
Een feest zoals er zelden is geweest!
De hele stad is opgefleurd,
Met vlaggen en slingers ingekleurd.
Er hangen posters in elke straat,
Met bonte letters van groot formaat,
Waarop iedereen leest:
Het is feest!
Het is feest!
Op ‘t marktplein speelt een harmonieorkest.
De dirigent doet vreselijk zijn best.
De menigte wordt enthousiast
Bij ‘t klinken van de Koningsmars.
Uit duizend kelen klinkt het, en bepaald niet bedeesd:
Wat een feest!
Het is feest!
Het is feest!
Een feest zoals er zelden is geweest!
De hele stad is opgefleurd,
Met vlaggen en slingers ingekleurd.
Er hangen posters in elke straat,
Met bonte letters van groot formaat,
Waarop iedereen leest:
Het is feest!
Het is feest!
Hoera!
Sta op en Schitter (Arise and Shine) was inspired by several Georgian legends about heroes, like Mindia, The Knight in the Panther’s Skin, St. George and Amirani. Georgia was one of the first countries in the world to become a Christian nation, as long ago as in the 4th century. I spent the summer holidays of 2013 in Georgia, together with my family, and we camped for one week in the wild in the Caucasus. To Arise and Shine is precisely what the gorgeous Georgian nature inspires one to do.
Sta op en Schitter is a famous quote from Isaiah 60: 1. It was the motto of my mother-in-law, who was able to fight cancer during 14½ years, before she finally succumbed to it, one month after my family’s holiday in Georgia.
All in all, Sta op en Schitter is first of all an ode to the beautiful country of Georgia and its wonderful people. While it doesn’t actually quote any Georgian traditional melody, it does make extensive use of the characteristics of Georgian harmony and polyphony and Caucasian rhythms. However, there is a broader context as well, in the sense of my mother-in-law’s motto: to rise up and shine is always a heroic thing to do, regardless of one’s circumstances.
Sta op en Schitter (Arise and Shine) was inspired by several Georgian legends about heroes, like Mindia, The Knight in the Panther’s Skin, St. George and Amirani. Georgia was one of the first countries in the world to become a Christian nation, as long ago as in the 4th century. I spent the summer holidays of 2013 in Georgia, together with my family, and we camped for one week in the wild in the Caucasus. To Arise and Shine is precisely what the gorgeous Georgian nature inspires one to do.
Sta op en Schitter is a famous quote from Isaiah 60: 1. It was the motto of my mother-in-law, who was able to fight cancer during 14½ years, before she finally succumbed to it, one month after my family’s holiday in Georgia.
All in all, Sta op en Schitter is first of all an ode to the beautiful country of Georgia and its wonderful people. While it doesn’t actually quote any Georgian traditional melody, it does make extensive use of the characteristics of Georgian harmony and polyphony and Caucasian rhythms. However, there is a broader context as well, in the sense of my mother-in-law’s motto: to rise up and shine is always a heroic thing to do, regardless of one’s circumstances.
Sta op en Schitter (Arise and Shine) was inspired by several Georgian legends about heroes, like Mindia, The Knight in the Panther’s Skin, St. George and Amirani. Georgia was one of the first countries in the world to become a Christian nation, as long ago as in the 4th century. I spent the summer holidays of 2013 in Georgia, together with my family, and we camped for one week in the wild in the Caucasus. To Arise and Shine is precisely what the gorgeous Georgian nature inspires one to do.
Sta op en Schitter is a famous quote from Isaiah 60: 1. It was the motto of my mother-in-law, who was able to fight cancer during 14½ years, before she finally succumbed to it, one month after my family’s holiday in Georgia.
All in all, Sta op en Schitter is first of all an ode to the beautiful country of Georgia and its wonderful people. While it doesn’t actually quote any Georgian traditional melody, it does make extensive use of the characteristics of Georgian harmony and polyphony and Caucasian rhythms. However, there is a broader context as well, in the sense of my mother-in-law’s motto: to rise up and shine is always a heroic thing to do, regardless of one’s circumstances.
Partly commissioned by the Dutch Fund for the Podium Arts NFPK
The first six movements of a planned ballet on Vazha Pshavela’s epic poem ‘Mindia’, preceded by an Introduction. Electronic sounds of the version for symphonic wind orchestra. The sixth movement: Dance of Celebration was performed live as an independent piece, with a concert ending, and can be heard here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xACOIyrFqyk. A version of this dance for symphony orchestra can be heard here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EPVSub-ANy0&list=PLFphAvDeWM1SYb6nzli66-3s3BuZUttEH&index=4
During the summer holidays of 2013, while in Georgia for the first time, I chanced upon a number of poems of Vazha Pshavela, an outstanding Georgian poet, born in the second half of the nineteenth century in the Northern Caucasus. I felt immediately attracted to a poem called The Snake Eater (1901), about the tragic fate of its hero Mindia, in the Northern mountainous region of Khevsureti. I started investigating and transcribing Khevsur folk music, which I found to possess the same stark beauty as Pshavela’s poem.
After the summer holidays, I approached the wind orchestra Koninlijke Harmonie Mheer and their conductor Fried Dobbelstein with the ideas to write a composition, inspired by the Mindia story, for symphonic wind orchestra. Just before the holidays, this orchestra had given an outstanding performance of my Caucasian Epode, during the World Music Contest WMC that takes place every four years in the Dutch town of Kerkrade. Fried and the orchestra reacted positively to the idea and eventually, in the spring of 2014, our combined efforts resulted in a grant from the Dutch Fund for the Podium Arts NFPK, which enabled me to start with the actual composing.
This composition deals with the first section of the poem, starting with Mindia in captivity and ending when he has returned to his people. It is subdivided in seven continuous movements:
I. Captive For twelve years Mindia has been held captive by the Kajis, a tribe consisting of evil sorcerers. He feels sad and lonely, missing his parents, kin and cherished friends and his beloved land of Khevsureti with its snow-capped mountains, its winding paths and murmuring streams. With time he has lost all faith and hope of ever seeing his homeland again. He longs to find relief in death from his miseries and pain.
II. The Cauldron A cauldron full of serpent’s meat, the Kajis’ favourite dish, now attracts his attention. Mindia believes that if he will eat of it, it will turn to poison in his veins and by killing him free him from his captivity. Finally he picks up enough courage to eat a piece of the loathsome meat.
III. Voices of Nature But instead of dying something entirely different happens to him. He finds that he can suddenly understand the language of all nature’s creatures: of birds, plants, trees, animals, streams and rocks.
IV. The Kajis’ Fury The Kajis are furious that Mindia has discovered the secret of their magical skills. But they know they now have lost their power over him.
V. Return Home Being now skilled in the Kajis’ magic, Mindia can simply leave them. He returns to his tribe in Khevsureti, where his family and friends are overjoyed to see him back.
VI. Feast A festive Khevsur dance in honour of Mindia’s return.
Youtube:
With Introduction:
My eventual aim is to cover the whole of Pshavela’s great poem by writing four more Mindia compositions.
I. Satan ist schon lang’ ins Fabelbuch geschrieben (Satan has long ago been written off to fable-books) II. Niedertracht (Baseness) III. Kommt, ihr Geister (Come, you spirits) IV. Sie hat mich beleidigt V. Verleumdung (Defamation) VI. Ausbruch (Outburst) VII. Nichts ist gewonnen, alles ist dahin (Nought’s had, all’s spent) VIII. Wanderers Gemütsruhe (The traveller’s peace of mind)
The texts of the songs (German / English) can be viewed and downloaded here.
The topic of this song cycle is baseness, which in the end does nothing but raise some dust – at least according to the great master of literature Goethe in the closing lines of his poem Wanderers Gemütsruhe (The traveller’s peace of mind), with which the cycle ends. There is a little story underlying the choice of texts of Goethe and Shakespeare and their order; a story about evil forces intent on bringing about the downfall of the person that is the protagonist of song number VI and whom we will duly call Miranda.
The opening song: Satan ist schon lang’ ins Fabelbuch geschrieben (Satan has long ago been written off to fable-books), on texts by Goethe, is a general introduction, as sung by the chorus of a classical Greek drama.
Niedertracht (Baseness). Iago pretends to be nice to Miranda, while in fact he is only secretly looking for possibilities to bring her down.
Kommt, ihr Geister (Come, you spirits). Lady Macbeth invokes evil spirits to assist her in her intent.
Sie hat mich beleidigt (She hath wronged me). Gerald-John Shallow, Esquire, has a very delicate nature which is all too easily offended. Initially sympathizing with Miranda, he decides to join forces with Lady Macbeth and Iago while whimpering about a supposed insult.
Verleumdung (Defamation). Eventually, the evil forces bring Miranda to court, where their lawyer Lucio presents his list of accusations.
Ausbruch (Outburst). Gentle Miranda can’t take it any longer. She erupts into anger, in plain but eloquent Shakespearian terms.
Nichts ist gewonnen, alles ist dahin (Nought’s had, all’s spent). This text is an example that shows the depth of Shakespeare’s insight in universal laws: a desired result never brings satisfaction, when obtained by ill-gotten means.
Wanderers Gemütsruhe (The traveller’s peace of mind). The Greek chorus closes the cycle, again with words of a general nature by Goethe.
The musical themes of the songs have been derived from medieval melodies to songs texts from the 13th century CodexBuranus, mostly in a way similar to how I used them in my choral song cycle Cantica Aviditatis (Songs of Greed).
This song cycle is as it were a prequel to my instrumental composition Via ad Veniam (The Way to Forgiveness), with which it shares the same opus number and the starting point of freely using melodies from the medieval Carmina Burana.
The sheet music of this composition can be purchased either at sonolize.com or by contacting me directly.
More about this composition can be read here.
With this contrabass concerto a wish dating from my student years has become reality. Henk Guldemond, at the time leader of the Concertgebouw Orchestra’s contrabass section, invited me to discuss with him the possibilities of the contrabass and of a concerto for this instrument. In the end, this didn’t amount to anything, but the idea remained in the back of my head; together with the intention to start a future contrabass concerto with a piccolo solo.
More than 25 years after this conversation, the idea was realized after all. I suggested writing a concerto for contrabass and wind orchestra to contrabassist Peter Leerdam – at the time a fellow student of mine – and to conductor Josef Suilen and wind orchestra ‘Sint Jan’ from the Dutch town of Wierden. The idea was received so favourably, that a commission could be realized, owing to great efforts on the part of Sint Jan’s and to benevolent grants from the Rabobank Noord-West Twente, the foundation for amateur music ‘De Kunstfactor – Unisono’ and the foundation ‘De Noaber van Wierden’.
The composition is in one movement and largely monothematic. The music has been cast into a sonata form, with a short Adagio inserted between the exposition and the development and a cadenza for the solo instrument halfway the recapitulation. I made grateful use of a number of ideas and suggestions of Peter Leerdam.
In 2019, I transcribed the concerto for contrabass and small symphony orchestra, partly because my son Benjamin expressed the wish to perform it as part of his Master test examination. He did so June 27th, 2019, in the Witte de With Theatre in Rotterdam, having assembled orchestra of students all by himself, conducted by Leonard Kwon.
The sheet music of a n number of my compositions is now available at sonolize.com, click ‘Componist’, upper left corner. This number will gradually grow during the coming months.
In opdracht van Stichting Frysk Fanfare Festival voor de Open Nederlandse Fanfare Kampioenschappen 2020
Opgedragen aan iedereen die de weg naar vergeving heeft ingeslagen of nog gaat inslaan
Gedeelten uit de partituur kunnen hier worden bekeken en gedownload. Partituur en partijen kunnen als pdf materiaal worden verkregen bij Opus 33 Music, door een e-mail te sturen naar eduard.menno.de.boer@gmail.com.
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Inleiding
Nadat de Stichting Frysk Fanfare Festival me had gepolst of ik voor de Open Nederlandse Fanfare Kampioenschappen 2020 het verplichte werk wilde componeren, had ik al vrij snel een idee waar het werk over zou gaan: over het proces van vergeving en diverse stadia op weg daar naartoe. Maar het duurde een tijd voordat ik ‘op een rijtje’ had, welke stadia ik muzikaal wilde uitbeelden. Dat gebeurde opeens, toen ik op een ochtend mijn vrouw in de tuin bezig zag met het verbranden van stapels paperassen die verbonden waren met onverkwikkelijke en voor haar schadelijke gebeurtenissen.
Dat was de ontbrekende schakel die ik zocht!
Niet alleen de ervaringen van mijn vrouw vormden de inspiratiebron voor het werk, ook de spreuk in forgiveness lies the stoppage of the wheel of karma uit de boekenreeks The Law of One vond en vind ik inspirerend. In die zin is deze compositie een vervolg op mijn compositie Vita Aeterna Variaties, die een rondgang van het wiel van karma als onderwerp heeft.
Via ad Veniam betekent: de weg naar vergeving. De compositie is gebaseerd op twee middeleeuwse melodieën uit de Carmina Burana Codex, te weten Procurans Odium
en Stabilitas.
De eerste liedtekst gaat er over dat aangedaan onrecht uiteindelijk en achteraf vaak een blessing in disguise blijkt te zijn, de tweede dat stabilitas, standvastigheid, zich niet van z’n pad laat afbrengen, ongeacht wat er gebeurt. Met dit als uitgangspunt verklankt deze compositie allerlei stadia, vanaf de duisternis die aangedaan onrecht met zich meebrengt tot aan het uiteindelijke accepteren en loslaten ervan. De in totaal acht delen gaan allemaal in elkaar over. Hier is een beknopt overzicht:
Tenebrae (Duisternis). Een ‘donderslag bij heldere hemel’ wordt gevolgd door een versie van Procurans Odium in een tweedelige maatsoort.
Incubo (Nachtmerrie). Een variatie op het Procurans Odium thema, met flarden van onrustige snelle passages en vervreemdende klanken.
Turbinis oculus (Het oog van de orkaan). Midden in de nachtmerrie kondigt het Stabilitas thema zich aan. Onder invloed hiervan trekt de nachtmerrie muziek zich geleidelijk terug.
Desperatio (Wanhoop). Een variant van het begin keert terug, met een variatie op het begin van het Procurans Odium thema. Dit is hier getransformeerd tot een versie in een driedelige maatsoort, hetgeen een sterker gevoel van welbevinden geeft, al komt dat in deze variatie nog niet tot uiting: hier klinkt het te midden van verwarring en chaos, en gedachten die in een kringetje blijven ronddraaien.
Dolor (Smart). Het Stabilitas thema wordt hier afgewisseld met de driedelige maatsoort versie van het Procurans Odium thema.
Ira (Woede). Opnieuw een variatie op het Procurans Odium thema, nu weer in een tweedelige maatsoort, hier afgewisseld met het bekende Gregoriaanse Dies Irae thema.
Ritu ardoris (Rituele verbranding). Niet alleen de tweedelige versie van het Procurans Odium thema gaat in louterende vlammen op, ook allerlei motieven, verbonden met negatieve gevoelens, uit de vorige delen worden aan de elementen prijsgegeven.
Acceptio (Acceptatie). De Stabilitas melodie wordt afgewisseld met de driedelige versie van de Procurans Odium melodie. Van het vlammen-motief is hier en daar nog een rustige triolenbeweging overgebleven.
Sunday the 2nd of December, during the Concierto Extraordinario de Santa Cecilia, the Asociación de Amigos de la Música de Yecla awarded me with the Premio Santa Cecilia 2018.
This award is given annually since 2005 and recognizes the work of any person, group or entity promoting knowledge and enjoyment of Music.
The following video, made by the Department of Communication and Press of the Association of Friends of Music of Yecla, provides information about my relationship with Yecla:
I wasn’t told beforehand, so for me this was a huge sur-prize!
This song cycle could be composed thanks to a contribution called Werkbijdrage Muziekauteur (Work Contribution Music Author) of the Dutch Fonds voor de Podiumkunsten (Fund for the Podium Arts).
Dedicated to Wind Orchestra Concordia Obbicht and their conductor Alex Schillings, and to Sabine McNeill
The first performance should have taken place March 27, 2020 in the Sint Willibrorduskerk, Obbicht, The Netherlands. Unfortunately, the pandemic situation has caused the premiere to be postponed.
I. Die Verhaftung (The Arrest)
II. Gruppenverhalten (Group Behaviour)
III. Erlösung in einem Traum (Salvation in a Dream)
IV. Weg von hier! (Away from here!)
V. Nach dem Gewitter (After the Thunderstorm)
Many stories of the famous writer Franz Kafka deal with the anxiety, alienation and powerlessness of an individual against a nonsensical, blind authority. His surreal stories have even resulted in the emergence of the word Kafkaesque, to describe the absurdity of what happens to such an individual and the hopelessness of his situation. For this song cycle, I searched Kafka’s oeuvre for texts fitting the situation of a so-called whistleblower: an informant who exposes wrongdoing, mostly within the organisation where he or she is working, in the hope of stopping it.
I know what it feels like to be a whistleblower, as I have been one myself, in the 90s of the previous century. This had to do with the predecessor of the Dutch state fund which enabled me to write this composition. It was called Fonds voor de Scheppende Toonkunst, which roughly translates as Fund for the Creation of Music. Research and analysis of this fund’s annual reports led me to the conclusion that the composers who received most of the (public) funding were largely the same ones as could be found in the management board and / or in the advisory committees. And on top this, the composers in the board had a say in which composer would be asked to take part in the advisory committee to decide about the next round of applications. When my findings went public, I went through the ordeal that whistleblowers usually go through, and this isn’t the place to go into detail about this. Suffice it to say that this experience resulted in compositions like the secular oratorio Der Förderverein, the third part of my choral song cycle Cantica Aviditatis and my ‘conceptual experiment’ Bubbles.
This story pales into insignificance compared to what happened to one of the dedicatees of this composition and the dedicatee of its version for baritone and piano: the 74 year old German / British mathematician and human rights campaigner Sabine McNeill, who at this moment is imprisoned for exposing systemic child abuse within the U.K. She can be viewed on Youtube, speaking in the EU Parliament about this theme.
That systemic child abuse and child trafficking is rampant, not just in the U.K., but all over the globe, especially within circles of the highest power, is something that few people want to know or even think about. Most people prefer to look the other way. A few years ago, I came to the conclusion that, being a composer, I can contribute to spreading awareness of this phenomenon by writing compositions about it. So far, however, such compositions have hardly been performed or not at all. But never mind, this composition is the next one in the series. And helping spread awareness about these abhorrent practices is necessary in order to make them stop.
In the preface to the score of Coming to Light, one of these earlier compositions, I added a number of Youtube links to prove my point. However, more and more of the Youtube films in question are now being taken down – only to be replaced by more and more new ones, by the way – rendering the links I provided useless. All the more happy am I with the foundation in 2015 of the International Tribunal for Natural Justice I.T.N.J., a judicial commission of inquiry into human trafficking and child sex abuse. I invite everyone who wants to know more about (the depth of) this rabbit hole simply to search for ITNJ on Youtube and experience the cumulative effect of the large and growing number of testimonies.
To return to this song cycle, it describes various occurrences that may happen to a whistleblower and his / her ensuing states of mind:
I: Die Verhaftung (The Arrest). A whistleblower may be arrested, on sometimes trumped-up charges. The text is from the beginning of Kafka’s famous novel Der Prozess (The Trail) and the absurdity of the conversation is underlined by the bizarre waltz that follows it.
II: Gruppenverhalten (Group Behaviour). In many cases, a whistleblower is fired, while his / her colleagues prefer to look the other way. I took the liberty to ‘borrow’ the Leitmotiv of the ‘small evil’ from Prokofiev’s opera The Fiery Angel to depict the usurper helmsman.
III. Erlösung in einem Traum (Salvation in a Dream) is about yearning for death, under the pressure of the circumstances.
IV: Weg von hier! (Away from here!) in this musical setting is about the urge to fly from the circumstances that blowing a whistle can bring about. This song is followed by a postlude depicting a thunderstorm, not unlike the one that Shakespeare described so beautifully in his play King Lear.
V: Nach dem Gewitter (After the Thunderstorm). I couldn’t resist the temptation to end this cycle on a positive note, with a musical setting of the only positive and self-asserting text that I could find in Kafka’s oeuvre – admittedly the short story where this text has been taken from ends with the collapse of the protagonist’s exuberant feeling, but Kafka did write these lines nonetheless – as I feel that we are living in times of transformation, where human consciousness is gradually growing and ever more is coming to light. May the endeavours of Sabine McNeill and many others contribute to this expansion, and may also this little musical offering help with this.
This song cycle could be composed thanks to a contribution called Werkbijdrage Muziekauteur (Work Contribution Music Author) of the Dutch Fonds voor de Podiumkunsten (Fund for the Podium Arts).
Dedicated to Sabine McNeill
I. Die Verhaftung (The Arrest)
II. Gruppenverhalten (Group Behaviour)
III. Erlösung in einem Traum (Salvation in a Dream)
IV. Weg von hier! (Away from here!)
V. Nach dem Gewitter (After the Thunderstorm)
Many stories of the famous writer Franz Kafka deal with the anxiety, alienation and powerlessness of an individual against a nonsensical, blind authority. His surreal stories have even resulted in the emergence of the word Kafkaesque, to describe the absurdity of what happens to such an individual and the hopelessness of his situation. For this song cycle, I searched Kafka’s oeuvre for texts fitting the situation of a so-called whistleblower: an informant who exposes wrongdoing, mostly within the organisation where he or she is working, in the hope of stopping it.
I know what it feels like to be a whistleblower, as I have been one myself, in the 90s of the previous century. This had to do with the predecessor of the Dutch state fund which enabled me to write this composition. It was called Fonds voor de Scheppende Toonkunst, which roughly translates as Fund for the Creation of Music. Research and analysis of this fund’s annual reports led me to the conclusion that the composers who received most of the (public) funding were largely the same ones as could be found in the management board and / or in the advisory committees. And on top this, the composers in the board had a say in which composer would be asked to take part in the advisory committee to decide about the next round of applications. When my findings went public, I went through the ordeal that whistleblowers usually go through, and this isn’t the place to go into detail about this. Suffice it to say that this experience resulted in compositions like the secular oratorio Der Förderverein, the third part of my choral song cycle Cantica Aviditatis and my ‘conceptual experiment’ Bubbles.
This story pales into insignificance compared to what happened to the dedicatee of this composition: the 74 year old German / British mathematician and human rights campaigner Sabine McNeill, who at this moment is imprisoned for exposing systemic child abuse within the U.K. She can be viewed on Youtube, speaking in the EU Parliament about this theme.
That systemic child abuse and child trafficking is rampant, not just in the U.K., but all over the globe, especially within circles of the highest power, is something that few people want to know or even think about. Most people prefer to look the other way. A few years ago, I came to the conclusion that, being a composer, I can contribute to spreading awareness of this phenomenon by writing compositions about it. So far, however, such compositions have hardly been performed or not at all. But never mind, this composition is the next one in the series. And helping spread awareness about these abhorrent practices is necessary in order to make them stop.
In the preface to the score of Coming to Light, one of these earlier compositions, I added a number of Youtube links to prove my point. However, more and more of the Youtube films in question are now being taken down – only to be replaced by more and more new ones, by the way – rendering the links I provided useless. All the more happy am I with the foundation in 2015 of the International Tribunal for Natural Justice I.T.N.J., a judicial commission of inquiry into human trafficking and child sex abuse. I invite everyone who wants to know more about (the depth of) this rabbit hole simply to search for ITNJ on Youtube and experience the cumulative effect of the large and growing number of testimonies.
To return to this song cycle, it describes various occurrences that may happen to a whistleblower and his / her ensuing states of mind:
I: Die Verhaftung (The Arrest). A whistleblower may be arrested, on sometimes trumped-up charges. The text is from the beginning of Kafka’s famous novel Der Prozess (The Trail) and the absurdity of the conversation is underlined by the bizarre waltz that follows it.
II: Gruppenverhalten (Group Behaviour). In many cases, a whistleblower is fired, while his / her colleagues prefer to look the other way. I took the liberty to ‘borrow’ the Leitmotiv of the ‘small evil’ from Prokofiev’s opera The Fiery Angel to depict the usurper helmsman.
III. Erlösung in einem Traum (Salvation in a Dream) is about yearning for death, under the pressure of the circumstances.
IV: Weg von hier! (Away from here!) in this musical setting is about the urge to fly from the circumstances that blowing a whistle can bring about. This song is followed by a postlude depicting a thunderstorm, not unlike the one that Shakespeare described so beautifully in his play King Lear.
V: Nach dem Gewitter (After the Thunderstorm). I couldn’t resist the temptation to end this cycle on a positive note, with a musical setting of the only positive and self-asserting text that I could find in Kafka’s oeuvre – admittedly the short story where this text has been taken from ends with the collapse of the protagonist’s exuberant feeling, but Kafka did write these lines nonetheless – as I feel that we are living in times of transformation, where human consciousness is gradually growing and ever more is coming to light. May the endeavours of Sabine McNeill and many others contribute to this expansion, and may also this little musical offering help with this.
The beginning of the score, including the texts I selected and set to music, can be viewed here.
I first composed the songs for baritone and piano, after which I arranged them for baritone and large wind orchestra, especially for the large range of instruments of the symphonic wind orchestra Concordia from the Dutch town Obbicht, whose conductor Alex Schillings proved to be enthusiastic about the idea. With his help, I could obtain a contribution called Werkbijdrage Muziekauteur (Work Contribution Music Author) from the Dutch Fonds voor de Podiumkunsten (Fund for the Podium Arts), which enabled me to write both versions of this song cycle.
On October 13, 2018, the IVth open competition of composers “Peter and the Wolf-2018” reached its conclusion with a gala concert, during which the works that reached the final were performed by the Ural Youth Symphony Orchestra, conducted by maestro Enkhe, with Irina Nesterova as a narrator:
An international jury headed by Alexander Tchaikovsky awarded the first prize to my composition The Symphonic Colour Factory:
Thank you very much, dear members of the Ural Youth Philharmonic Orchestra, and Mr. Enkhe, for your beautiful performance! Thank you, dear Irina Nesterova, for your beautiful rendering of the story! And thank you, jury, and all organizers of and other participants at the competition!
Dedicated to Kees Kramer
Duration: ca. 20 minutes without narrator; a few minutes more with narrator
First performance: October 13, 2018, as part of the final concert of the Peter and the Wolf composition competition for music for children 2018 in Yekaterinburg. Performers: the Ural Youth Symphony Orchestra conducted by maestro Enkhe; narrator: Irina Nesterova. With subtitles.
To my great joy, this composition won the first prize, out of more than 50 entries from all over the world!
It was performed again in February 2019, in the same hall, with the same youth orchestra, this time conducted by Alexei Dvorkin:
The first pages of the score can be viewed and downloaded here:
INTRODUCTION
There are wonderful compositions for children, where, each in turn, the various instruments of the symphony orchestra are highlighted, Benjamin Britten’s A Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra being the most well-known. But, as far as I know, no composition for children existed so far, where instead of the various instruments the most usual modes of playing – apart from ‘normal’ playing – are highlighted, like for instance pizzicato, tremolo or sul ponticello for strings, flatterzunge for wind instruments, playing with or without mute, etc. All these and similar modes of playing evoke each their own specific atmospheres. For years, it had been a wish of mine to devote a piece of music for children – and their (grand)parents – to this subject. This composition is the result of this wish.
The person who started the chain of events that made it possible to realize this idea is Kees Kramer. artistic coordinator of the Rotterdam Philharmonic Orchestra. The idea appealed to him and so he presented it to the orchestra’s coordinator education Katinka Reinders, who also liked it. This eventually resulted in a commission by the Dutch Fund for the Podium Arts to compose music for a children’s show. The composition The Symphonic Colour Factory has been derived from the music for this show.
Like Britten’s A Young Person’s Guide, this piece can be performed with or without a narrator. The difference is that my composition illustrates a story (see below), implying that it can be seen as programme music, when performed without narrator.
As can be seen below, the narrator’s text doesn’t explain complex terms like harmonics or sul ponticello. All these effects can either be explained beforehand in school classes as a preparation for a concert where this piece is on the programme, or they can be demonstrated during a concert, just before the composition is performed, or both. Here I would like to add that to me, the cognitive side (like knowing what col legno means) is far less important than experiencing how certain ways of playing sound and what kind of atmospheres can be evoked by them.
Obviously, I had to make choices which modes of playing I would use. One could easily compose a substantial piece for string orchestra alone, in which all kinds of modes of playing are highlighted. Or a piece for brass alone, focussing solely on the many types of mutes that are available. I also had to make choices in what way to introduce things. For instance: the pizzicato effect is introduced in combination with loud chords. Had I presented it with soft single notes, this would have resulted in a very different atmosphere. I made this choice, because I felt the need to have something that would contrast effects that are soft by nature, like sul ponticello or col legno.
CONTENTS AND SUBJECT OF EACH OF THE MOVEMENTS
Introduction
Theme I. Introduction of the orchestra’s basic groups: woodwind, brass, strings and percussion
Variation 1. Harmonics (strings) and mutes (brass)
Variation 2. Tremolo (strings) and flutter tongue (flutes, horns and trumpets)
Theme II. Con sordino (solo strings and string orchestra)
Introduction to Variation 3.
VII. Variation 3. Pizzicato (strings), triple tonguing (flutes, horns and trumpets) and fast repeated notes (strings) in piano
VIII. Variation 4. Glissando (strings, harp, xylophone and several wind instruments), double tonguing and fast repeated notes (strings) in forte
Variation 5. Everything from Variations 3 and 4 mixed together
Variation 6. Tremolo sul ponticello (strings)
Theme II. Tremolo con sordino (solo strings and string orchestra)
Variation 7. Col legno (strings) and stopped horns
Theme II. Ultra high harmonics combined with con sordino (solo strings)
Fugue. All of the above one more time in a nutshell, in reversed order
THE STORY
Narrator: Katinka was a lively girl, with a keen interest in many things.
[I. Introduction.] One day, while she was playing in the attic of her grandfather’s house, her attention was attracted by a book. In fact, it was a magical book, but she didn’t know this, of course. She took it into her hands to look at the cover. It read: Guide to Symphonic Colours. Fascinated, she opened the book, and suddenly everything around her changed. She seemed to be falling, down and down…
Fortunately, she landed softly. She looked around. Where was she? Apparently, in some sort of strange-looking building. She could feel it was a place full of magic. Tentatively, she took a few steps, and then she saw a door, with a shield that read: MATERIAL: WOOD, BRASS, STRINGS, MISCELLANEOUS. She cautiously opened the door and entered a large hall.
[II. Theme I.] She slowly walked through it. Indeed, there was the wood… and there the brass. And there were the strings… and there were indeed all kind of miscellaneous things.
On the other end of the hall she found another door, also with a shield on it. It read: HARMONICS AND MUTES. CAREFUL. TEMPERATURE BELOW ZERO. She curiously opened the door and entered a large white hall.
[III. Variation 1.] Indeed, there were lots of harmonics, and they emitted an icy cold. And there were a number of mutes as well. As she walked through the hall, Katinka became colder and colder. She became so cold, that she started running toward the exit door and quickly went out.
[IV. Variation 2.] Where was she now? It seemed like a corridor, and it was definitely spooky. Then she saw a screen on the wall, flashing the word TREMOLO. She became a little bit frightened. Suddenly, another word appeared on the screen: FLUTTER TONGUE. Now Katinka became really afraid. But then…
[V. Theme II.] … there appeared a friendly-looking man. ‘Don’t be afraid’, he said. ‘You are in the Symphonic Colour Factory, and I am your guide. At this particular moment, I am accompanied by solo strings with mutes. Sounds lovely, don’t you think so? Now please listen. Here, behind this door…’
[VI. Introduction to Variation 3.] ‘Did you hear that? It’s called triple tonguing. The flutes, trumpets and horns are particularly good at it. Would you like to go inside?’ ‘Oh yes, very much!’, Katinka replied. ‘There is a lot of activity going on there’, the guide continued. ‘Please also notice that the strings are being plucked. This is called pizzicato. All right, here we go!’ And he pushed open the door.
[VII. Variation 3.] ‘As you can hear, the strings can play equally fast repeated notes as the flutes and trumpets, and softly, too, if necessary, the guide added.
By now, everyone in the hall had noticed Katinka and her guide. More and more people stopped playing. ‘What are you doing here?’, asked their leader. You are not allowed in here. ‘We are at work and we don’t want to be disturbed. Please be so kind as to leave.’
Conductor to the orchestra: ‘Attention please! It’s time for our Patented Crazy Glissandi and Fast Repeating Notes! One Two Three Go!’
[VIII. Variation 4.] Conductor to the orchestra: ‘Good. And now all of these ingredients mixed together. (While giving an upbeat) AND –’
[IX. Variation 5.] Narrator: The leader now became aware that Katinka was still there, spellbound as she was by the spectacle. ‘I told you to leave!’ he shouted at her. Dragging her to the exit door, he pushed her out, slamming the door behind her.
[X. Variation 6.] Where was she now? It was really dark and eerie here. Again she noticed a screen. This one read, in ghostly letters: SUL PONTICELLO. Again, Katinka started to feel really frightened…
[XI. Theme II.] …but then, to her relief, she again saw her guide. ‘Ah, finally you can see me again’, he said. ‘Yes, some of the sounds from our Factory do sound scary, but there is nothing to be afraid of. Do you now hear the solo strings with mutes, moving the bow rapidly back and forth? This is called tremolo? Isn’t it beautiful? And now, all the other strings join in. This sounds a bit scary again.
Now I would like you to be very quiet for a minute. So you can feel the sound of strings playing with the wooden side of the bow instead of with the hair. This is called col legno.
[XII. Variation 7.]
[XIII. Theme II.] ‘And now it’s time for you to return, Katinka’, resumed the guide. ‘I will take you back to the exit point, along the same route back. I hope you liked like this sight-seeing tour, despite the scary moments?’ ‘O yes, very much so!’ Katinka cried. ‘Thank you so much!’ ‘I’m happy to hear that. All right, let’s go then.’ And off they went.
[XIV. Fugue.] Having returned to the exit point, they were suddenly engulfed by magic, and the next moment, Katinka found herself in her grandfather’s attic again. Her guide waved to her from inside the open book: ‘Bye-bye.’
I am very happy to announce the Japanese premiere of my third symphony: A Tribute to Komitas. The Osaka University Wind Orchestra, conducted by Yoshinori Kubota, will perform the composition on December 27th, 2018, in the Archaic Hall of the Amagasaki Cultural Center.
Here is a link to the recording of the premiere performance by the Marine Band of the Royal Netherlands Navy, conducted by Jan Cober, with some information about the piece in the description box:
My composition Coming to Light was originally written for symphonic wind orchestra. A performance of the piece can be heard here, together with information about it in the desciption box. In 2015, I transcribed the piece for brass band. Since the piece is too long to be usable as a test piece, I then searched for a way to abrigde it without making musical concessions. I found a section that could be cut, if I made some changes in the music right before and after the cut. This recording gives a first impression of this shortened version. I made a cut in the recording for wind band at 13:01. Please keep in mind that the music around the cut has been altered somewhat.
Recently, I transcribed my brass band composition Vita Aeterna Variations for symphonic wind band. During the process, I found some mistakes in the brass band version (in addition to the mistakes I discovered when I transcribed the composition for symphony orchestra in 2014). Here is a list of the new errata, whereby the errata marked in yellow are the important ones. And here are the pages from the score where I discovered and corrected something that was wrong.
De ballade van de gehangenen (The ballad of the hanged men) (after François Villon) (Soprano and Tenor)
De zieke roos (O rose, thou art sick) (after William Blake) (Tenor)
De gestolen teddybeer (The stolen teddybear) (Soprano)
De hel (Hell) (Soprano and Tenor)
Voorspoken (Pre-ghosts / Pre-haunting)* (Tenor)
Het stervende kind (The dying child) (after H.C. Andersen) (Soprano)
Zingende doden (Singing dead) (Soprano and Tenor)
*) ‘Voorspoken’ is a compound of voor and spoken and doesn’t exist as such in Dutch. Voor means before or pre-, and spoken means either ghosts or to haunt, depending on whether it is seen as a noun or a verb.
Commissioned by Muziekvereniging “Wilhelmina” Glanerbrug, with financial support of the Dutch Fund for the Podium Arts
Dedicated to Muziekvereniging “Wilhelmina” Glanerbrug and their conductor Fried Dobbelsteen
Duration: ca. 33 min.
Text: Willem Wilmink / Franz K. Custos, after Peire Cardenal (1180 – 1278)
Dedicated to Maaike Deckers
Inspired by the novella Unter dem Oberschichtlichen Lack from the collection Ungereimte Bilder by Franz K. Custos
An incident in the life of my wife prompted me to set Wilmink’s poem ‘De Gekkenstad’ (The City of Fools to music. Because what is described in this poem is very much related to this incident, I took the liberty of having the well-known satirist Franz K. Custos adapt the poem ever so slightly. Wobke Wilmink, Willem’s widow, has given her approval to this variation, albeit exclusively in combination with the music of this song. Here follows first the version by Franz K. Custos, as set to music, followed by the text of Wilmink’s original poem.
Er was een stad, ik weet niet waar,
daar viel een regenbui, zo zwaar,
wie daarin liep, werd niet slechts nat,
maar ook krankzinnig, in die stad.
De mensen werden kierewiet, maar eentje trof dit noodlot niet. Zij werd gespaard voor ’t grote leed
omdat ze thuis een dutje deed.
’t Was met de regenbui gedaan
toen deze vrouw is opgestaan.
Ze kwam op straat
en zag meteen
veel soorten gekken om zich heen:
één piemelnaakt, één zonder hemd,
één spoog ten hemel, vroom gestemd,
een ander sloeg wat met zijn stok,
één die zijn jas aan stukken trok.
’t Was een gegooi, geduw, getrek…
Ik ben de koning, dacht een gek
en keek misprijzend naar ’t gemeen.
Eén sprong er over banken heen.
There was a town, I don’t know where,
there fell a rain so heavy,
whoever walked in it, not only got wet,
but also insane, in that city.
The people went mad,
but one did not suffer this fate.
She was spared great distress
because she was taking a nap at home.
The rainstorm was over
when this woman got up.
She came out onto the street
and immediately saw
many kinds of madmen around him:
one cock-naked, one shirtless,
one was spitting at the sky, pious,
another beating with his stick,
One pulling his coat to pieces.
It was a tossing, pushing, pulling …
I am the king, thought a madman
And looked down on the mean.
One of them jumped over benches.
Men vloekte en dreigde op die dag
of huilde met een schaterlach,
sprak woorden zonder samenhang
of trok gezichten, vreemd en bang.
Zij die gespaard was, stond perplex
bij ’t zien van zo veel knettergeks.
Tussen de dwazen die zij vond,
keek ze wanhopig in het rond,
zocht in de massa om zich heen
verstandigen, maar vond er geen
en dat verwonderde haar zeer,
maar zij verbaasden zich nog meer,
geloofden allen stellig dat
zíj haar verstand verloren had:
zo anders als zij zich gedroeg,
dat was voor hen bewijs genoeg
dat elk voor zich verstand bezat
en zij alleen de gekte had.
Ze wordt geslagen in gezicht
en nek, verliest haar evenwicht,
ze wordt gemept, gesleurd, getrapt
en twijfelt of ze ooit ontsnapt.
Ze duwen, scheuren haar haar zijn jas.
Nadat ze nog gevallen was,
rent ze met grote sprongen naar
haar veilig huis, dan zit ze daar,
beslijkt, geslagen en verwond,
maar blij dat ze een uitweg vond.
One cursed and threatened that day
Or cried with laughter,
spoke words without coherence
or made faces, strange and frightened.
The one who was spared was perplexed
At the sight of so much madness.
Among the fools she found,
she looked around in despair,
searched the crowd around him
sensible ones, but found none
And that amazed her greatly,
but she puzzled them even more,
All of them firmly believed that
She was the one who had had lost her mind:
As different as he was from them,
was proof enough for them
That each had a mind of his own
and she alone had the madness.
She is beaten in face
and neck, losing her balance,
she is slapped, dragged, kicked
and doubts whether he will ever escape.
They push her, tear her coat.
After she has fallen,
she runs in leaps and bounds to
her safe house, then she sits there,
besieged, beaten and wounded,
but happy to have found a way out.
In dit verhaal werd u verteld
hoe ‘t met de wereld is gesteld.
Een mens die zijn moraal vergeet,
op macht belust, is trots en wreed
Maar iemand met een normale aard
wordt door de anderen gek verklaard.
En men doet haar veel pijn daarbij,
omdat ze niet zo is als zij,
omdat ze niet zo is als zij.
In this story you were told
what the world is like,
A human who forgets his morals,
bent on power, is proud and cruel.
But someone with a normal nature
is declared mad by the others.
And in doing so, they cause her a lot of pain,
because she is not like them,
because she is not like them.
Original poem:
Er was een stad, ik weet niet waar,
daar viel een regenbui, zo zwaar,
wie daarin liep, werd niet slechts nat,
maar ook krankzinnig, in die stad.
De mensen werden kierewiet,
maar eentje trof dit noodlot niet.
Hij werd gespaard voor ’t grote leed
omdat hij thuis een dutje deed.
’t Was met de regenbui gedaan
toen deze man is opgestaan.
Hij kwam op straat en zag meteen
veel soorten gekken om zich heen:
één piemelnaakt, één zonder hemd,
één spoog ten hemel, vroom gestemd,
een ander sloeg wat met zijn stok,
één die zijn jas aan stukken trok.
’t Was een gegooi, geduw, getrek…
Ik ben de koning, dacht een gek
en keek misprijzend naar ’t gemeen.
Eén sprong er over banken heen.
Men vloekte en dreigde op die dag
of huilde met een schaterlach,
sprak woorden zonder samenhang
of trok gezichten, vreemd en bang.
Hij die gespaard was, stond perplex
bij ’t zien van zo veel knettergeks.
Tussen de dwazen die hij vond,
keek hij wanhopig in het rond,
zocht in de massa om zich heen
verstandigen, maar vond er geen
en dat verwonderde hem zeer,
maar zij verbaasden zich nog meer,
geloofden allen stellig dat
híj zijn verstand verloren had:
zo anders als hij zich gedroeg,
dat was voor hen bewijs genoeg
dat elk voor zich verstand bezat
en hij alleen de gekte had.
Hij wordt geslagen in gezicht
en nek, verliest zijn evenwicht,
hij wordt gemept, gesleurd, getrapt
en twijfelt of hij ooit ontsnapt.
Ze duwen, scheuren hem zijn jas.
Nadat hij nog gevallen was,
rent hij met grote sprongen naar
zijn veilig huis, dan zit hij daar,
beslijkt, geslagen en verwond,
maar blij dat hij een uitweg vond.
In dit verhaal werd u verteld
hoe ‘t met de wereld is gesteld,
want onze tijd, dat is is die stad:
de wijsheid ligt er op z’n gat.
‘t Is goed dat je daar niet op bouwt,
maar God eerbiedigt, van Hem houdt
en dan naar Zijn geboden leeft,
waaraan haast geen een boodschap heeft
na wat dat noodweer hier eens deed:
die slagregen, die hebzucht heet.
Een mensheid die zijn God vergeet,
op macht belust, is trots en wreed.
Heeft God iemand dit lot bespaard,
die wordt door de anderen gek verklaard
en men beledigt hem daarbij,
omdat hij niet zo is als zij.
Gods wijsheid lijkt hun dwaasheid toe.
Maar wie Gods vriend is, weet wel hoe
het werkelijk zit met wijs en zot
en wie is losgeraakt van God.
Hij wordt voor warhoofd uitgemaakt
omdat hij ‘s werelds waan verzaakt.
Text: Willem Wilmink / Franz K. Custos, after Peire Cardenal (1180 – 1278)
Dedicated to Maaike Deckers
Inspired by the novella Unter dem Oberschichtlichen Lack from the collection Ungereimte Bilder by Franz K. Custos
An incident in the life of my wife prompted me to set Wilmink’s poem ‘De Gekkenstad’ (The City of Fools to music. Because what is described in this poem is very much related to this incident, I took the liberty of having the well-known satirist Franz K. Custos adapt the poem ever so slightly. Wobke Wilmink, Willem’s widow, has given her approval to this variation, albeit exclusively in combination with the music of this song. Here follows first the version by Franz K. Custos, as set to music, followed by the text of Wilmink’s original poem.
Er was een stad, ik weet niet waar,
daar viel een regenbui, zo zwaar,
wie daarin liep, werd niet slechts nat,
maar ook krankzinnig, in die stad.
De mensen werden kierewiet, maar eentje trof dit noodlot niet. Zij werd gespaard voor ’t grote leed
omdat ze thuis een dutje deed.
’t Was met de regenbui gedaan
toen deze vrouw is opgestaan.
Ze kwam op straat
en zag meteen
veel soorten gekken om zich heen:
één piemelnaakt, één zonder hemd,
één spoog ten hemel, vroom gestemd,
een ander sloeg wat met zijn stok,
één die zijn jas aan stukken trok.
’t Was een gegooi, geduw, getrek…
Ik ben de koning, dacht een gek
en keek misprijzend naar ’t gemeen.
Eén sprong er over banken heen.
There was a town, I don’t know where,
there fell a rain so heavy,
whoever walked in it, not only got wet,
but also insane, in that city.
The people went mad,
but one did not suffer this fate.
She was spared great distress
because she was taking a nap at home.
The rainstorm was over
when this woman got up.
She came out onto the street
and immediately saw
many kinds of madmen around him:
one cock-naked, one shirtless,
one was spitting at the sky, pious,
another beating with his stick,
One pulling his coat to pieces.
It was a tossing, pushing, pulling …
I am the king, thought a madman
And looked down on the mean.
One of them jumped over benches.
Men vloekte en dreigde op die dag
of huilde met een schaterlach,
sprak woorden zonder samenhang
of trok gezichten, vreemd en bang.
Zij die gespaard was, stond perplex
bij ’t zien van zo veel knettergeks.
Tussen de dwazen die zij vond,
keek ze wanhopig in het rond,
zocht in de massa om zich heen
verstandigen, maar vond er geen
en dat verwonderde haar zeer,
maar zij verbaasden zich nog meer,
geloofden allen stellig dat
zíj haar verstand verloren had:
zo anders als zij zich gedroeg,
dat was voor hen bewijs genoeg
dat elk voor zich verstand bezat
en zij alleen de gekte had.
Ze wordt geslagen in gezicht
en nek, verliest haar evenwicht,
ze wordt gemept, gesleurd, getrapt
en twijfelt of ze ooit ontsnapt.
Ze duwen, scheuren haar haar zijn jas.
Nadat ze nog gevallen was,
rent ze met grote sprongen naar
haar veilig huis, dan zit ze daar,
beslijkt, geslagen en verwond,
maar blij dat ze een uitweg vond.
One cursed and threatened that day
Or cried with laughter,
spoke words without coherence
or made faces, strange and frightened.
The one who was spared was perplexed
At the sight of so much madness.
Among the fools she found,
she looked around in despair,
searched the crowd around him
sensible ones, but found none
And that amazed her greatly,
but she puzzled them even more,
All of them firmly believed that
She was the one who had had lost her mind:
As different as he was from them,
was proof enough for them
That each had a mind of his own
and she alone had the madness.
She is beaten in face
and neck, losing her balance,
she is slapped, dragged, kicked
and doubts whether he will ever escape.
They push her, tear her coat.
After she has fallen,
she runs in leaps and bounds to
her safe house, then she sits there,
besieged, beaten and wounded,
but happy to have found a way out.
In dit verhaal werd u verteld
hoe ‘t met de wereld is gesteld.
Een mens die zijn moraal vergeet,
op macht belust, is trots en wreed
Maar iemand met een normale aard
wordt door de anderen gek verklaard.
En men doet haar veel pijn daarbij,
omdat ze niet zo is als zij,
omdat ze niet zo is als zij.
In this story you were told
what the world is like,
A human who forgets his morals,
bent on power, is proud and cruel.
But someone with a normal nature
is declared mad by the others.
And in doing so, they cause her a lot of pain,
because she is not like them,
because she is not like them.
Original poem:
Er was een stad, ik weet niet waar,
daar viel een regenbui, zo zwaar,
wie daarin liep, werd niet slechts nat,
maar ook krankzinnig, in die stad.
De mensen werden kierewiet,
maar eentje trof dit noodlot niet.
Hij werd gespaard voor ’t grote leed
omdat hij thuis een dutje deed.
’t Was met de regenbui gedaan
toen deze man is opgestaan.
Hij kwam op straat en zag meteen
veel soorten gekken om zich heen:
één piemelnaakt, één zonder hemd,
één spoog ten hemel, vroom gestemd,
een ander sloeg wat met zijn stok,
één die zijn jas aan stukken trok.
’t Was een gegooi, geduw, getrek…
Ik ben de koning, dacht een gek
en keek misprijzend naar ’t gemeen.
Eén sprong er over banken heen.
Men vloekte en dreigde op die dag
of huilde met een schaterlach,
sprak woorden zonder samenhang
of trok gezichten, vreemd en bang.
Hij die gespaard was, stond perplex
bij ’t zien van zo veel knettergeks.
Tussen de dwazen die hij vond,
keek hij wanhopig in het rond,
zocht in de massa om zich heen
verstandigen, maar vond er geen
en dat verwonderde hem zeer,
maar zij verbaasden zich nog meer,
geloofden allen stellig dat
híj zijn verstand verloren had:
zo anders als hij zich gedroeg,
dat was voor hen bewijs genoeg
dat elk voor zich verstand bezat
en hij alleen de gekte had.
Hij wordt geslagen in gezicht
en nek, verliest zijn evenwicht,
hij wordt gemept, gesleurd, getrapt
en twijfelt of hij ooit ontsnapt.
Ze duwen, scheuren hem zijn jas.
Nadat hij nog gevallen was,
rent hij met grote sprongen naar
zijn veilig huis, dan zit hij daar,
beslijkt, geslagen en verwond,
maar blij dat hij een uitweg vond.
In dit verhaal werd u verteld
hoe ‘t met de wereld is gesteld,
want onze tijd, dat is is die stad:
de wijsheid ligt er op z’n gat.
‘t Is goed dat je daar niet op bouwt,
maar God eerbiedigt, van Hem houdt
en dan naar Zijn geboden leeft,
waaraan haast geen een boodschap heeft
na wat dat noodweer hier eens deed:
die slagregen, die hebzucht heet.
Een mensheid die zijn God vergeet,
op macht belust, is trots en wreed.
Heeft God iemand dit lot bespaard,
die wordt door de anderen gek verklaard
en men beledigt hem daarbij,
omdat hij niet zo is als zij.
Gods wijsheid lijkt hun dwaasheid toe.
Maar wie Gods vriend is, weet wel hoe
het werkelijk zit met wijs en zot
en wie is losgeraakt van God.
Hij wordt voor warhoofd uitgemaakt
omdat hij ‘s werelds waan verzaakt.
Going through the information on this website, you will find a lot of links to recordings, mostly on Youtube, of my compositions, be it with my pseudonym Alexander Comitas or my actual name. For convenience, here are some links nicely brought together. Wherever there is a piano part, I play it myself.
Dedicado a mis queridos amigos José Ángel, Alejandro y Ángel Hernández Azorín.
Dedicado a mis queridos amigos José Ángel, Alejandro y Ángel Hernández Azorín.
Commissioned for the Senttix project and Mr. Pedro Arcas by the Asociación Amigos de la Música de Yecla, Spain
Sta op en Schitter (Arise and Shine) was inspired by several Georgian legends about heroes, like Mindia, The Knight in the Panther’s Skin, St. George and Amirani. Georgia was one of the first countries in the world to become a Christian nation, as long ago as in the 4th century. I spent the summer holidays of 2013 in Georgia, together with my family, and we camped for one week in the wild in the Caucasus. To Arise and Shine is precisely what the gorgeous Georgian nature inspires one to do.
Sta op en Schitter (Arise and Shine) was inspired by several Georgian legends about heroes, like Mindia, The Knight in the Panther’s Skin, St. George and Amirani. Georgia was one of the first countries in the world to become a Christian nation, as long ago as in the 4th century. I spent the summer holidays of 2013 in Georgia, together with my family, and we camped for one week in the wild in the Caucasus. To Arise and Shine is precisely what the gorgeous Georgian nature inspires one to do.
Sta op en Schitter (Arise and Shine) was inspired by several Georgian legends about heroes, like Mindia, The Knight in the Panther’s Skin, St. George and Amirani. Georgia was one of the first countries in the world to become a Christian nation, as long ago as in the 4th century. I spent the summer holidays of 2013 in Georgia, together with my family, and we camped for one week in the wild in the Caucasus. To Arise and Shine is precisely what the gorgeous Georgian nature inspires one to do.
Partly commissioned by the Dutch Fund for the Podium Arts NFPK
I. Satan ist schon lang’ ins Fabelbuch geschrieben (Satan has long ago been written off to fable-books)
In opdracht van Stichting Frysk Fanfare Festival voor de Open Nederlandse Fanfare Kampioenschappen 2020
This song cycle could be composed thanks to a contribution called Werkbijdrage Muziekauteur (Work Contribution Music Author) of the Dutch Fonds voor de Podiumkunsten (Fund for the Podium Arts).
