Hello Rob I'm riding the train home from work, up from the city and into the mountains, listening to this extraordinary work. Sublime. Surreal. Clever and quirky, angular, melancholy, ever shifting, full of surprises. As I listen I think about how every note - every single note - must first have appeared in your mind, in your imagination, to be weighed and considered, both alone and in relation to the other notes around it, those just played, those still sounding and those to come; each note - its length, register, tone, articulation - all agonised over and carefully imagined in performance. "Is this right?" You must have asked yourself countless times, over and again. Because with this music, if it ain't on the page, it ain't on the stage. I know you've just returned from Brazil with GANGgajang Rob, but surely this music and this marvellous performance by these wonderful musicians, so sensitive and delicate, such care taken, is the thing, the lasting central important thing. Your contribution to this troubled, imploding, glorious world. Bravo Rob!!! And thank you for these notes, each and every beloved one of them. With love and admiration...
You just slayed me with every considered word, just as considered as every note you talked about. And yes, I agonised over most notes. I wouldn’t know if the angels agonised over what they sent me, as much of this composition happened regardless of my limited perception. And then there’s the score. More agonising because, as you say, if it’s not on the page it’s not on the stage. Wonderful saying. As you would know, especially with a very small ensemble, every note and harmony, counterpoint is crucial. There’s nowhere to hide. But that vulnerability so suits the subject matter of displaced people. I love you Mark. You make me believe ❤
