Following on from
Disappearing in Light, Wim Henderickx and the HERMESensemble
bring another programme of powerful contemporary sounds from Belgium.
The Sanskrit phrase
Nada Brahma literally means 'God in Sound',
and this work is the third part of Henderickx's
Tantric Cycle.
There is a significant vocal part in this work, but you can search for the
printed text in vain. This is "an abstract text construction that is devoid
of semantic reference", following the essence of 'sound' in the meaning of
the title. The impression is of a language one feels should be
comprehensible, but absolute abstraction is maintained and we are freed from
straining to associate words and music. The booklet refers to algorithmic
procedures in the composition of this work, but this is anything but
mathematical sounding. Genuine and disturbing beauty can emerge from
violence elsewhere in sublime movements such as the third,
Sacred
Noise, and last,
Cosmic Silence, and there is a deep lyricism
in the stunningly eloquent but gently expressive
New Spirituality.
Ritual drumming is a feature, but this can also have a syncopated swing as
in
Cosmic Pulsations. The only problem with removing semantic
meaning from the words is that we are left wondering what all the crashing
and banging of something like
Cosmic Chord is all about.
On the Road, as its title suggests, was inspired by Jack
Kerouac's novel of the same name. Originally for trumpet and electronics,
the piece has been adapted for other instruments, and this version with the
gloamy tones of the bass flute has a haunting, other-world quality. The
electronics in this case form a "smooth carpet of sound" on a single note
over which the flute plays in improvisatory, oriental style.
The title
Atlantic Wall refers to the Western European coastline
that is "scattered with war architecture that sternly overlooks the Atlantic
Ocean." This is a work that "explores the concepts of sound, resonance and
voice, as well as the underlying natural forces of water and fire." There is
a weighty power and some elemental violence in the work, but it also has a
profoundly introspective quality in its expression of the effects of war,
wanting to "sublimate the profound pain of human beings into an almost
ritual experience." The piece has a subtitle,
Voix de l'Ombre or
'Voice of the Shadow', and this comes across in the most darkly chilling and
strikingly beautiful moments of
Part I: Blue that spreads a
jaw-dropping, shimmering curtain of sound.
Part II: Red has a more
oriental feel in its timbres and in its inscrutable sense of drama. The
pulse is disjointed, melodic shapes are chopped and served slow, but the
contrasts of electronic and instrumental/vocal sounds retains a unique
fascination. The final
Epilogue is a rare and surreal sonic bath of
subtle strangeness, the voice and a clarinet turning through a dark-hued
vastness.
This is not your standard fare even by contemporary music standards. Some
sections are harder to assimilate than others, but the best of the music
here can affect you like the most powerful of poetry, striking deep and
nestling in with your soul for the rest of time. If you are up for the
spiritual challenge and a shot of eternal enrichment, then try
Triptych.
Dominy Clements
