‘…flickering instantiation…’ (2024) for harpsichord

It is characteristic of my process that works take a long time to progress from concept to concert, and my piece for harpsichordist Luca Quintavalle that I first mooted back in 2020 is no exception, having taken fully five years to reach the recording stage. But now Luca has recorded ‘…flickering instantiation…’ and his CD, which also includes works by Rihm, Abrahamsen, and de Pablo, should be released this coming August. Luca’s performance is exceptional, musical, articulate and colourful. This is even more remarkable considering his recording is also the work’s world première; I hope he is able to include the work in a concert at some point. But in the meantime this CD recording will stand as an exemplary reading of the score.

Unlike most instruments, harpsichords – like organs – vary enormously in size and range through the historical record, and it is normal to specify both the maker and year of manufacture, and even more arcanely, the tuning system adopted in any recording. This indicates the complexity faced by composers when considering writing for the instrument. When Luca and I first discussed the piece I asked if he would be able to summon up an instrument that had a rather wide range (GG to g”’), two manuals, and an equal temperament tuning. Such a harpsichord would in reality have not been in use until the later 18th century, and writing for it is a very 21st century approach. At least we are aware these days of our anachronisms; when composers like Falla and Petrassi and Xenakis wrote for ‘harpsichord’ they had in mind a kind of generic instrument, such as the Pleyel used by Elizabeth Chojnacka, robbed of historical meaning by its generality. Even Elliott Carter’s Double Concerto is conceived for a rather vaguely-defined harpsichord. Happily, Luca plays ‘…flickering instantiation…’ on a suitable, beautiful, and importantly, idiomatic-sounding instrument that makes my work feel like a extension of the Baroque keyboard repertoire, rather than ahistorical mimicry. In Luca’s hands, I find the work pleasingly beautiful, and I’m very grateful that we were able to bring such a work to life; the forthcoming CD will permit listeners to experience his artistry in this rarefied idiom.

Nonetheless, having become aware of these caveats, I have spent more than two decades pondering precisely how to write for harpsichord. My first attempt, le Passacaglie of 1993(?), was played a couple of times, but on both occasions by pianists, who were not really au fait with the idiosyncrasies of the instrument, and the performances were not ideal. Back then there seemed not to be any harpsichordists proper who were familiar enough with modernist musical thinking (let alone notation) to want to take the work on, and it languished on my shelf. After a few years I converted the piece into a piano solo, called the heart’s algorithms, but the truth is, it made a not much better than indifferent piano work, and although I tinkered with it from 1999 to 2002, it never quite sprang to life. Both Mark Knoop and Peter de Jager have played it, but audiences remained a bit unenthused, and although I like the music qua music I had to agree about its pianistic plainness. My current plan, calling on all that I have learned about harpsichords in the ensuing thirty-odd years, is to convert the piece back into a harpsichord solo, but retaining all the additional ideas that found their way into the piano version – and the newer, preferable, title.

This complicated history with the instrument made writing ‘…flickering instantiation…’ both daunting and yet exciting: to finally complete a work for harpsichord, and have a player who I knew would be adequate to its challenges, brought a thirty-year arc to a satisfactory culmination. Luca’s recording is fantastic and I strongly recommend the eventual CD. I will blog again as soon as it is released.

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