memoria en 3D

'Living backwards!' Alice repeated in great astonishment. 'I never heard of such a thing!'
'— but there's one great advantage in it, that one's memory works both ways.'
'I'm sure mine only works one way,' Alice remarked. 'I can't remember things before they happen.'
'It's a poor sort of memory that only works backwards,' the Queen remarked.
(Lewis Carroll: 'Through the looking glass')

Estoy escribiendo una obra en la que hay una geografía compleja en el escenario: una especie de plano del metro en el que cada objeto está unido con una línea más o menos visible (un cable, un hilo) con un objeto paralelo. Esto determina la arquitectura del sonido también. Lo que se escucha aquí suena análogamente allá, más lejos, al fondo, detrás, delante, fuera, dentro, en el medio, encima, debajo...
 A veces pienso en este proceso de reciprocidad desde el punto de vista de la memoria, tratando de establecer un paralelismo entre lo reproducido por el mundo análogo de las grabaciones y su confirmación en el mundo 'real' de los intérpretes. Una especie de anticipación de lo que ocurrirá unos compases más adelante, o vice-versa, un señuelo que es confirmado más adelante por los altavoces. Me gusta pensar que todo este proceso funciona como un mapa paralelo al establecido por los objetos y el sonido: algo abstracto y subyacente, una geografía del recuerdo que se va confirmando por medio de las grabaciones y su ancla al mundo tangible de los instrumentos así como a la subjetividad de la experiencia de quien escucha.
Casualmente, en esta obra estoy trabajando con pequeños textos de 'A través del espejo'. La reina de ajedrez posee la capacidad de utilizar la memoria en dos direcciones: hacia el futuro y hacia el pasado, de tal manera que lo que se hará mañana se recuerda hoy. Me encanta la idea de esta especie de memoria 'flotante' en el tiempo,  una especie de rebobinado imposible de lo que está por llegar. Por supuesto, todo esto no es ajeno al mundo de la música a través del simulacro temporal creado por el movimiento retrógrado en el contrapunto tradicional.
 En mi obra, las grabadoras funcionan como una especie de pequeñas máquinas del tiempo, donde se congela por unos instantes lo que será interpretado por los músicos algunos compases adelante: una especie de premonición detenida en una cajita, un fragmento que está aún por materializarse en el futuro, en el mundo concreto de los intérpretes. A veces sucede lo contrario: una vuelta de la tortilla temporal en el que la interpretación acaba tomando forma en el altavoz.
Creo que la tercera dimensión de la memoria pertenece, como indicaba anteriormente, a la experiencia individual, a enlazar lo inmediatamente adquirido al mundo particular de los recuerdos para crear un mapa mucho más complejo y subterráneo que el que determina la obra.

'What sort of things do you remember best?' Alice ventured to ask.
'Oh, things that happened the week after next'

auto-questionnaire ( confessions for a program note)

1 why do you compose?

I arrived to the world of composition rather accidentally as I come from a completely non-musical environment. I soon realized that it was a good platform from which I could generate responses to several inner creative questions. I think that as long as those questions exist I will continue involved with composition. I suspect that composition as such is not the ultimate goal but rather a format where I can implement or translate ideas that have been stored in my mind for a long time.

2 how do you compose?

In terms of routine I'm very Stravinskian. I usually work for a regular number of hours every day. That is a somewhat painful process since many times you just confront a blank piece of paper without many expectations of filling it up. However, that sort of daily 'horror vacui' triggers a certain response in the shape of a 'fleeing forward' process. I am a composer that usually works with daily units, that is, what has been produced during a day becomes a somewhat independent and quasi self-sufficient fragment within a larger piece. This is not a diary-like process but rather the result of a method or a habit. The ultimate result of this is the feeling of a constant beginning, the impression of being at a particular starting point every day without completely losing a sense of continuity.

3 why this piece, now, today?

I believe that it is quite difficult to thoroughly justify your aesthetic decisions in relation to the world as many of them just originate and manifest themselves in deeply subjective and subterranean ways. I think, however, that my piece was developed as a bit of a comment towards the highly performative artistic environment in which we live. In fact it is a piece that explores the negative side of a performance: the musicians and the music are placed and aimed towards the backstage, towards an intimate realm which is relatively disconnected from the audience both visually and sonically.

4 could you not do anything better in life?

It would be impossible to answer that question accurately unless we accept the fact that there are several living replicas of myself and we evaluate how successfully they deal with their respective professions. I hope they are not reading this questionnaire though.

5 how do you manage to combine everyday life eating, sleeping, relationships, family, taxes and composing? Do they influence each other? In what way?

I try to isolate as much as possible the act of composition from the rest of things, a bit like a shelter which protects oneself from the inclemencies of the exterior world. Unfortunately, since the expenses of life are usually not covered by composition itself one has to confront and explore other disciplines to stay afloat. I think that most composers end by having multiple faces from a professional point of view. However, I do not believe that those experiences necessarily manifest themselves in the music I write.

6 what attracts you in the music of whom?

There are many composers whose music I deeply admire. They belong to several periods, from Dufay till Feldman and beyond. I try not to see the history of music in a linear, dialectic way but rather as a holistic present frame in which the music of Machaut, Mozart or Grisey have the same level of immediacy. I have never been very interested in the evolution and dialectics of materials but rather in the different ways in which they are articulated. I could therefore mention many composers that have influenced me but that would greatly exceed the scope of this

questionnaire.

7 Schönberg said: The chief requirements for the creation of a comprehensible form are logic and coherence. The presentation, development and interconnexion of ideas must be based on relationship.¹ Is coherence in a work of art still a valid notion today?

I think that Schönberg's idea is rather classical and scholastic. I do not believe that elements necessarily need to be presented, interconnected and 'justified' in order to build a piece of art. Sometimes the uniqueness of an event is sufficient in itself. I believe that coherence is an 'outer' rather than an 'inner' aspect of a piece. When we listen to a piece we establish interconnections between the elements we are presented with, or we don't. We link those events to our experience of the world or not. Coherence is something that cannot be clearly determined and controlled by the composer, it is something that generally flows through the subjective channels of the listener.

8 what is essential for you in composition?

What I appreciate more in composition and art in general is a certain sense of difference. This is not necessarily related to notions such as 'professionalism' or 'quality' (which are normally used within academic environments). It is not about 'inventing the wheel' either but rather about reformulating what already exists.

9 is the concept of 'new' still relevant today? if so, what does it mean?

I like better the term 'different'. I believe this is an essential issue. As I stated in the previous answer I do not believe that we have to invent the wheel over and over again but rather to re-contextualize or reformulate what is already there. Materials, regardless of their origin, usually belong to the supermarket of possibilities, to the array of creative choices. It is just the way in which we reformulate and reuse them what makes the difference. This may be carried out by mere musical procedures or by other external means: space, gesture...

10 is there any relationship between what¹s happening in the world and your work?

I personally try to detach as much as possible what I do as a composer from the social aspects that surround me (this does not mean that I am not actively taking part in society from a personal perspective). I think, however, that even if I intend to build an artificial, creative refuge there several aspects of experience, of the time and the space in which we live that involuntarily permeate into my work. I never try, however, to evidently incorporate them in my work, to push them manifestly over the surface of the piece. They occasionally show up as a remnant of a thought, an image, a sound, a text, a perception...