The idea of a clarinet concerto for Kari Kriikku had been going round in my mind for some years. While I was composing my second opera (
Adriana Mater, 2006) the clarinet part began to be increasingly soloistic, and I found the instrument was speaking to me in a new way. I set about planning a concerto but did not begin actually composing it until autumn 2009.
The form was inspired by six medieval tapestries,
The Lady and the Unicorn, in which each tapestry depicts, with rich symbolism, the five senses and a “sixth sense” – whatever it is (emotion? love?). I had already seen the tapestries in the Musée de Cluny in Paris while seeking material for my first opera,
L’amour de loin, and their richness also inspired the exhibition
La Dame à LicorneI held with Raija Malka the artist in 1993.
www.musee-moyenage.fr/pages/page_id18023_u1l2.htm
The tapestries are named after the five senses, and I have titled the movements of my concerto accordingly:
L’Ouïe (Hearing),
La Vue (Sight),
Le Toucher (Touch),
L’Odorat (Smell),
Le Goût (Taste)and the ambiguous
A mon seul Désir, which could be translated as “To my only desire”. The name and subject matter of the sixth tapestry have been widely interpreted and examined. What interested me in particular was an article about the meanings hidden in the letters of the name of the sixth tapestry. One of these is D’OM LE VRAI SENS. This is medieval French and alludes both to the senses and to the true meaning of humankind.
All this was, of course, just the initial impetus for composition. Using the names of the different senses as the headings for the movements gave me ideas for how to handle the musical material and for the overall drama. In the first movement (
Hearing) the calmly breathing orchestra is interrupted by a call from the clarinet.
Sight opens up a more mobile landscape in which the orchestra gets into position behind the solo instrument to develop the musical motifs this supplies.
Smellis colour music. I associate the harmony with scent; it is immediately recognisable intuitively and the impression is too quick for thought. The clarinet languidly spreads its colour over the orchestra, where it hovers, transforming as it passes from one instrument to another.
In
Touch the soloist arouses each instrumental section in turn from the pulseless, slightly dreamy state of the previous movement. This is the concerto’s liveliest movement, and the most virtuosic in the traditional sense, and the clarinet and orchestra engage in a dialogical relationship. The fifth movement (
Taste) is dominated by rough surfaces, tremolos and trills, which the clarinet serves to the orchestra around it.
While composing the last movement I experienced a sense of entering a new, intimate and timeless dimensionality. The end of a work is always the last chance to discover its quintessence. I often approach it by stripping the music down to its most ascetic elements. Here, too.
It came as a surprise even to me that the work began to come alive in its space, and that the clarinet – itself a unicorn – plays only some of its music in the soloist’s position. This appropriation of space became an inherent element of the work at the composition stage. D’OM LE VRAI SENS is dedicated to Kari Kriikku, whose vast experience and frequent consultations were invaluable to me in composing the solo part.
Kaija Saariaho
