limina (2021)
(for ensemble)

limina is designed to slow down our perception of time and to invite both deep listening into the smallest levels of sonic development and a heightened awareness of the present moment – aims I extend to both the audience and the musicians. For this reason and owing to the unpredictable and irreplicable nature of many of the sounds that interested me here, the notation demanded considerable flexibility. Instead of a vertical score, I define specific sonic vocabularies and outline a choreography of actions that explore these vocabularies. Each musician has their own sequence of gestures and sound materials or playing techniques, which are presented in the form of palettes and pitch sequences. This approach to form & notation mirrors my understanding of how choreographer Ligia Lewis’s Sensation 1 is structured. In performance, a work like this demands both a thorough understanding and control of the sonic materials as well as a virtuosic ability to attend and respond in the moment to minute details of the material’s morphology.

Rather than a polyphonic quartet, musicians should consider themselves four limbs of one body or, better yet, four slowly swirling currents in a massive aqueous body: seek the thinnest sliver of contrast between what is similar and what is identical, embrace the ambiguity when you lose track of your own sound in the sound mass, breathe together, blend. Find your own fascinations and “sweet spots” in these sounds and teach us how to listen them.

Consider how cream moves through coffee: an entire universe of blossoming turbulence – formally obvious (chaos, after all, is deterministic and we know a uniform mixture must result) and yet beautiful if you look closely. limina’s approach to form (especially as articulated through dynamics) is similar: there is no attempt at formal surprises or enticements. One must choose to “look closely”. Build crescendi with these listeners in mind, sculpting achingly slow turbulent currents that, heard deeply, are full of rich details and impossible to predict.

Stopwatch timings are given as a guide for initial practice and rehearsals. I consider these a sort of metronome marking that, ideally, musicians can abandon in performance. Going “off the clock” for performances is riskier and may require some cues, but it affords greater interpretative freedom and more organic, in-the-moment pacing and listening.