Motetten (2004)
(for eight violoncelli)

If one were to ask Polyhymnia what kind of music she loved most deeply, and in what kind of concert hall or landscape she would prefer to hear it, whether performed by female, male, male-female or female-male performers, and whether via mouths, instruments of whatever kind, or even loudspeakers, she would probably answer evasively, in accord with current political correctness, and would only say what she really thought in private conversation. (So long as her words hadn’t been recorded, she could later – if necessary – emphatically dispute both the content and expressed opinion.) But we shouldn’t impute such contrary behaviour to Music’s Muse. Thanks to the ever-increasing demand for entertainment everywhere, she remains a very busy lady. So we’re sorry about her sensitive ears, which perhaps used to be more demanding.

Yet one question put to her could have been:  Were motets initially a vocal form, or an instrumental one, or a polychromatic mixture such as a vocal-instrumental one? The answer might be interesting for any listeners who want to attach an implicit question mark to my title. Motets (without words)… for strings?

The more I think about current formal concepts concerning the music of the past, the more I doubt the validity of some designations. Ambivalence about definitions and content, and fuzzy delineations are almost the rule. Given my attitude to composing that often gains nourishment from casting basic doubts, I’m not surprised by such statements. Some periods and situations within music history enjoy an almost ice-bound interpretation on our part. This is regrettable. Transmission – like tradition – is all too susceptible to sloppy, handed-down understandings.

What interest me are not so much the obvious plain facts of history, but rather the conscious strategies during conception and notation that lead to the gradual creation of a piece of music. So in Motetten – a composition commissioned by November Music and the Eduard van Beinum Foundation, premiered at “de Bijloke” in Ghent in November 2005 – where I tried to wedge together the old contrasts between cantabile, as the ideal realisation of the vocal concept, and sonabile, embodying the instrumental one. What instrument could be better suited to this than the cello, the only one that reflects the exact range of the human voice? With it, what is singable is just as natural as all the characteristics that can only be imagined in terms of instruments.

Even though the eight cellos are placed in front of the listeners, in a semicircle, spatial procedures play a central role here. Since all parts are of equal importance, the highest and lowest ranges of the instrument are often heard coming from different places. The virtual space defined by the pitch range of the cello is counterpointed against the physically tangible space represented by the eight cellos. The result is all kinds of dialogues within a musical texture that – like a kaleidoscope – can change instantly from a monochrome to a polyphony of colours.

M. K.