Web comment: We sat one evening in March 2019, Kerstin and I, and talked about us humans and the Earth. Our planet Earth, increasingly vulnerable. Vulnerable. Ices are melting, forests are burning, streams are flooding in a way we don't recognize. The proportions are terrifying. What will happen? What is happening right now? In thought we moved to another planet. We sat there and saw in the distance our beautiful blue planet. The earth. So beautiful floating in space. Yes, there it is. But what's on it? Is there life, are there people? We talked for a long time and somehow it felt comforting that we were still sitting there philosophizing, albeit on another planet. We were. We lived. I was about to start composing a large piece for choir and orchestra, was looking for ideas, and felt that it was impossible not to touch on the climate crisis, this issue of destiny for humanity. I had improvised with my voice and piano a free beginning which I gave to Kerstin. She responded after our conversation with two short, beautiful poems. The third poem already existed. It was written in 2008 and is a very dramatic text about a natural disaster. Although written first, I decided it should be last in the piece. So I started composing and, as always, the music takes me away. It begins, after a long settling-in phase, to slowly become clear and take shape.
nely earth Silent earth Seasons passing Winds howling --- My starting point is always that I investigate something with the help of music. I try to listen to what needs to be said, needs to be expressed. Not what I want, but what is needed. It becomes a conversation with the notes, where I start processes responsive to where the music wants to go next. I process, play through over and over, knead, sing, dream up the music. If it is inspired, it opens up and begins to compose itself. Things happen that I could never imagine. It is important to be attentive, to have your emotional sprouts out. The first movement is desolate with wind gongs, cymbals and icy brass. In the middle of this chorus, Humanity. In the second movement, the choir - we humans - sing to the Earth. Telling who we were. How we lived. It often sounds in unison and displayed simply. Sometimes almost romantic. And it turned out, I thought on re-playing it, quite romantic, quite beautiful. As an artist, I then began to paint over the set with drills, sometimes harmonious, sometimes disharmonious. The music had to stop sometimes, freeze. The movement ends with the choir singing in many different languages to the Earth: Save yourself from us! Save us from ourselves! Save us! (Save us! Save us from ourselves! Save us!) The last movement is very dramatic, a description of a natural disaster and a lament in one. The burning earth. The tremoring earth --- The piece ends with a long coda. Karin Rehnqvist, 28 February 2020
Sound sample: Silent Earth, from movement II. Netherlands Radio Philharmonic Orchestra, Netherlands Radio Choir, Gijs Leenhaars. From the premiere in the Concertgebouw 22-01-29
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