Dániel Mona writes this about the work of Toru Takemitsu: “Rain Spell introduces us to the charming spell, magical images and rich tonal world of rain. The piece written for flute, clarinet, harp, piano and vibraphone starts off with isolated resolutions, then the melody is stretched ever further, meanwhile the accompaniment is full of mysterious effects. As well as the Debussy influence, modern sounds also make themselves felt: gentle strikes perceptible in splashing water, electrifying vibrations, resonating overtones, pointed sounds of drops, micro-dissonances, or the plucked or pinned piano string and the sound of the vibraphone played with a bow. Just as in general with Takemitsu, silence has a very important role here, too. Rests symbolize breathing; the breathing of nature, and breathing for life. The flute, which is an instrument perhaps closest to nature, is finally introduced in a solo role as well.”
Sofia Gubaidulina’s trio for harp, violin and flute (1980), which can also feature a narrator if so required, was born under the influence of two contradictory literary phenomena, the author herself stated. On the one hand, Gubaidulina was deeply moved by the work of Moscow author Iv Oganov on Sayat-Nova, the famous Armenian troubadour poet, composer and story-teller. The other influence comes from the poems of 20th century German poet Francisco Tanzer. The piece came out of a balance between lively oriental colouring and typical western consciousness. The two literary muses, despite all their differences, are equally meditative and refined. Certain expressions used by Iv Oganov, for example, “ordeal of the pain of the flower”, “peal of bells increased in the singing garden” or “lotus inflamed by music” represented specific inspiration for Gubaidulina in the imagination of sounding of the garden to be depicted. The ecstatic blooming of the garden was complemented by the reflections of Tanzer on the world and wholeness. The musical form comes together from the clash of light colours of natural overtones and the contradiction of the minor second and the minor third.
“Death must be allowed sufficient time,” professor Kroó once said on a radio broadcast of the New Musical Magazine, when as editor he inserted a musical quotation longer than usual from a deceased artist. Zoltán Jeney gives death sufficient time in his string quartet ricercare (2016) dedicated to the memory of Imre Kertész. While Tranquillity by László Sáry was performed in the first concert of the Day of Listening, Flowing Time is also a quiet meditation with slow rhythm of events. As a matter of fact, it is irrelevant whether the musical material originates from some sort of randomly regulated system, from a ‘found object’ or from a highly constructed concept. The listener must renounce his/her intellect-guided receptive attitude (if he/she has such at all), and must give him/herself over to the unpredictable process. Silence and various methods of string play have a significant role in the score. Flowing Time is a message of timelessness. And by now, its composer sends a message back to us from timelessness itself.
