Burleske (1999)
(for baritone saxophone and mixed choir)

Unimaginable: the human voice would merely be a speaking tool.
Unthinkable: the earth's inhabitants would only communicate with each other by singing.
Fortunately, neither of these disturbing hypotheses is true, and the possibilities for expressing everything we feel and invent with our gifted organ remain almost unlimited.

When I conceived this work, commissioned by the German Pavilion at Expo 2000 Hannover, I set out to compose with precisely those shades of color that arise from the blending of speaking and singing. Choirs are certainly ideal sounding bodies for this project; no other instrument has become so flexible in recent decades, has been able to emancipate itself so radically from the traditional patterns of the past. Today, this allows us to use the voice in an uninhibited way, to use it to shape the most diverse processes.

I preferred onomatopoeia for this composition. These are vocal events that always remain identifiable for the listener because the sound itself strives to imitate them. Whether the ticking of the pendulum clock, the dripping of the tap or the sudden gust of wind: each acoustic imitation of a given sound has an illustrative effect in itself and can nevertheless help to shape the rhythmic structure of the musical performance free of anecdotes. Something similar happens in the “Burleske”. The words describe unambiguous, realistic situations. However, they are structured in such a way that the associative impression can concentrate on the transformation of the imitated natural sound in the course of the respective section. I decided to use a single baritone saxophone for counterpoint as an additional timbre for the choral writing; the sound of this family of instruments already bears striking similarities to characteristics of the human voice.

I wouldn't be surprised if listeners to this piece thought they were watching a performance by minstrels of nonsense. However, there is much to suggest that it is actually about a communicative story that is told here like a fairy tale:

The aged pendulum clock no longer strikes as it used to, and the full hours it reports are rarely the right ones; a small repeater clock in the same room also sounds as damaged as its damaged balance wheel. The unhappy sound spreads. What to do? What time is it? How much time has passed?
Now the helping spirits come riding in; they whistle and sing and become quite lyrical. But nothing happens. That's why the clever ones are fuming, the wise ones are angry: Grrr! Grrr! Gifted demons are good protectors, angels of grace for repairs. But they only fool around, furtively shape their lips and kiss the air in a very earthly way. Suddenly, the troupe of recidivist fairies interrupts: Shh, it's trrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! Shh! Shh! And it drips without ceasing, as if all the taps in the house were dripping water.
Abracadabra! Abracadabra with open and closed mouths! Hax pax max! The magic formulas should be written on bread and eaten as they once were. In the name of the sound words Pix, nix, nox! Bux, rex, lex, sex, kex! Goodbye, goodbye!
The rotten sheet music is trembling everywhere!

M.K.
(Translation by Edition Peters)