Le Lac - Tristan Murail

To the north of New York extends a vast region of parks and natural reserves, studded with lakes, hills and forests. I live there in a house largely open to the outside world, composed of trees, a lake, and omnipresent life. Every day, every hour the lake shines with a different light, a new mood. It is ever present but ever changing, reflecting and magnifying the incessant movement of the seasons and climates. It is a geometric place for thoughts and looks, a modest symbol of the universe. Like the lake, the piece is built on a few constantly shifting elements: an acoustic analysis of the sound of rain hitting the lake, a stylised rumble of thunder, the call of an unidentified bird, the electronic texture of frogs in spring, and a melody of chords. These elements are treated as abstract musical objects; they are modified, filtered, distorted, harmonised or made into chords piled on top of one another; they are used for their pure sound and musical value—namely, their psychological impact. This is not an attempt to describe the lake, this is not programme music. What is retained from the natural model before me is mostly the play on permanence and impermanence, movement and mood swings, the logic of the unexpected, as well as the order and simplicity at the heart the chaotic and complex.