Ina (Chaya Czernowin)
The idea of the composite instrument can be traced back to the works I wrote for pre recorded and live soloist beginning around 1988. In my works Afatsim for mixed ensemble, Die Kreuzung for alto shō or accordion, alto saxophone and double bass, and the String Quartet, disparate instruments become a single composite instrument. Contrarily, in Ina and other works of this period, a single instrument is unbraided into disparate voices. At the time, this suggested an exploration into the drama of the single persona (and thus the single performer) confronted with the many divergent voices within. Ina unequivocally retains a cer tain narrative and dramatic conception in its play between the soloist and his or her internal environment.
The work is dedicated to John Sebastian Winston.
Chaya Czernowin
The composition Ina for bass flute and six prerecorded bass flutes and piccolos by Chaya Czernowin was written in 1988. This (virtual) ensemble would normally create a timbrally homogeneous whole. Yet in Ina, the main instrument – the flute – is subdivided into several voices; the composer, therefore, follows a different route than in her work Die Kreuzung. The stratification of the main voice assumes different shapes and follows into uncontrolled, independent beings. This music is a clear reflection of a personality collapse, and that relationship increases in the course of the work. In the voice of the implicit “I“, presented by a live instrument, we can hear a growing anxiety, triggered by the multitude of surrounding sounds. The breathing becomes more and more nervous, and the melody breaks up into short, fragmented phrases. An anxious look around, excitement, or perhaps fear? Suddenly, the voices stop in a static chord, as if waiting for the soloist’s reaction; after a while, everything resumes and it becomes difficult to follow the swinging flute part. The texture thickens, the crescendo insists. It becomes impossible to localise or recognise the main voice. Suddenly and unexpectedly, there is absolute silence – no less fearful. Lonely screams in the silence with no answer. Manic repetitions of the whole-tone figure, as if looking for a way of calming down. Again there is trembling, quiver, waiting. The voices resound again, but from a distance, and less terrifying than before. A good omen? A sign of healing?
The bass flute seems the ideal solo instrument here: its timbral possibilities range from a richness of hisses and whooshes to terrifying explosions, and when dosed well, the breathing effect has something terrifying to it.
In Ina, Chaya Czernowin develops a strikingly suggestive psychological drama. Her music doesn’t avoid extreme means of expression. In this work, we can hear the unspeakable.
(liner notes reprinted from the programme
book of the 2004 UltraSchall festival)
