Liavon Schwir: madrigal

This is not a madrigal for singing voices; it is not a madrigal in the original sense of the word, as songs in the native language (i.e. the mother tongue, or »matricalis«–in the mother tongue); ultimately, it is not a madrigal in the sense of the refinement of the old madrigal, its pretentiousness, its aestheticism; according to Magritte: »Ceci n’est pas une pipe«, although there is a pipe, and it is a pipe, and there is a madrigal, and it is a madrigal.

 

This is a madrigal in the sense that we all understand: the language of sounds that we hear everywhere, the language of noises, the language of sonorities.

This is a madrigal when it comes to the main themes of the madrigal–love. This is a madrigal about love. Unknown, incomprehensible, silent, devoid of any image. This love, in its imbalance, is conveyed through the sound complexes of this madrigal, which are as fragile, quiet, and wandering in time as the states of love themselves in all its concepts: ludus, storge, eros. The love depicted by these complexes will be different for everyone, depending on their awareness of the issues of love.

 

The entire composition, as I have already said, consists of repetitive sound complexes of the same type. The three performers take them at random, striving for desynchronisation, striving to read their own parts in their own way, defining the boundaries of freedom for themselves. As a result, this forms the fabric of the composition–fragile, elusive, monochromatic, but polychromatic. The mood of each layer fluctuates due to internal changes. Thus, the colour palette of these moods changes–from calm to unstable, but within the limits of one colour tone.

This is a madrigal about familiar, initial, natural states.

This is a madrigal about what is difficult to express in words and must be conveyed through sound and colour…

(Liavon Schwir)