Resplandecencias de la nada (2002)
for flute, clarinet, violin, cello, piano, harp and percussion
I was wondering about an image coming from a poem. It was about the lightness of the air at 4:40 PM somewhere in the south of the South. The thoughts were coming without words, rather shapes and colors, fluctuations of densities of indescribable materials, and some moments of silence.
Silence with a remote background of sounds, similar to the sounds we hear in dreams. We tend to think of nothingness when surrounded by silence but soon we discover a whole new world in it. The closest to silence is the flesh of the winds, then our breaths, and whispers that soon turn into new sound worlds…
At moments, the agglomeration of remote noises gives the impression of colors, textures and shapes that we have heard before but not as music, just as a fragile veil of life while walking close to an unknown river.
At 4:40 PM, in the south of the South, the afternoon turns into an immense tuning fork. Everything is suspended, gravitating around it, reflecting light of an increasing power, inviting us to be part of the event …
Resplendence of nothingness that eventually become silence again, as islands, here and there, silence with a yellow ochre resonance. Silence never stops sounding. What we call silence is the remembrance of the sounds in a dream.
I was wondering about an image coming from a poem. This music is a residual product of that experience.
4:40:00 PM
(oblicuidad de las esencias)
Tarde universal
Resplandecencia
Tarde repentina
Anacrusa del instante
ya iluminándose…
Tarde afinada al acto
Antesala del evento
Viboreteo manso de
cientos de sonidos
buscando su centro,
su punto de apoyo
para el salto…
Los astros
detienen también
su danza
y por un momento,
desnudos,
entran tibios
en esa conciencia,
acomodación ínfima
del espacio
a la arena del tiempo…
Tarde lacia,
vigilia instantánea
de lo dormido
Bajo un sistema riguroso
de coincidencias previas
y azares prematuros,
la tarde,
cofre antiguo
a un oro adherido,
tensa nuevamente su canto,
inflexión de cada criatura,
tucán, rinoceronte,
guayaba, roca y nosotros,
al lago calmo…
Cuasi-caída
Suspensión
Reposo
Ademán shamánico aditivo,
todo es sólo
suma de luz
a la llama…
Tarde laxa,
verticalización
de los tiempos
Coincidencia
Deliberado abandono
de todo poder
Entrega…
Tarde centrípeta
Unísono
Ofrenda
Van Gogh
despertando
de sus soles…
Las esencias
descansan mansas
entre panales de almas…
Desde atrás de nosotros
corre un viento
de mariposa transfigurada…
Marcelo Toledo
