Louis Andriessen – De Tijd

Performed by the Schönberg Ensemble, the Akso Ensemble and conducted by Reinbert de Leeuw
Live recording on June 1, 2005 at the Amsterdam Concertgebouw

‘….gazing on the point beyond to which all times are present’
(Dante: La Divina Commedia)

‘The above line from Dante’s Divine Comedy can serve as a motto for the meaning of the whole work
The task was to compose a work which evokes the sound of a “continuous present”, an awareness of time standing still’
(Louis Andriessen)

Have you ever contemplated the phenomenon “Time”? The utter strangeness of its continuous progress? There is a moment called Now, and the tiniest fragment of a second later it’s gone forever, as if it never existed.
Louis Andriessen, one of our few modern composers who’s won international acclaim, once had some kind of mystical experience, ever so short, during which he felt as if time didn’t exist anymore. Everything “Was” for him at the same time.
Fascinated by this experience, he started to read about things philosophers, theologists and physicists had to say about the incomprehensible concept of Time. And of course, being a composer, he had to process his rare sensation in a musical way.
This album is the result of his musings.

So, what music can you expect here?
I’ll try to explain. Let’s compare Nono’s Prometeo - or any of the Italian’s choral pieces - with “De Tijd”. I’m not sure if the comparison is entirely valid, but I can’t help it my first association when listening to Andriessen’s piece was with Nono.
At first hearing, the compositions seem to have a common sonic landscape. However, I’d say voices in Nono’s choruses often sound as if they’re desperately struggling to reach us from some remote, death-cold corner of the universe, thus commenting on the desolate state of Modern Man; whereas Andriessen’s seem to put emphasis on the bliss of a unifying, metaphysical bond between all things and creatures that are, or have ever been.
In other words, the music of both pieces have similarities, but the “feel” of the music is quite different.

A comment about the front cover of the album, which brilliantly illustrates Time’s weirdnes: when you stare into the central black hole for fifteen seconds or so, the coloured pixels circling immediately around it seem to move. Try it. It’s as if they gliding into the black hole, much like the sands in an hourglass. Just when you think your eyes are playing tricks on you, everything stands still again. Things disappear and regenerate; they Are and Are Not simultaneously….

That’s Time, I guess.