June 13, 2014

Even the Light Itself Falls
ArtShareLA, 8pm, $10

Scott Worthington Even the Light Itself Falls

The Pacific Ocean. A long drive. The view atop a mountain. For me, all of these things bring about a mental space that includes both reflection and a sense of wonder. The settings themselves are not particularly active or exciting: destinations or passive traveling. Yet, at least for me, these sights and activities inspire a slowed mental pace and create moments that can be quite moving.

I hope this music can create a similar space for listeners. It is sonorous and resonant, patient and spacious, repetitive, and perhaps even stark at times. Even as the sounds ebb and flow, there is a constant pull toward stillness. The resonance of chords and memory of melodies almost decay to nothing but instead last in quiet tranquility, as though the sounds search for silence but never discover it. Much like waves on the shore, there are moments of excitement and activity followed by periods of relaxation. More broadly, a musical tide approaches and recedes.

The title comes from an essay by Jean-Luc Nancy, “On the Threshold,” which was originally read in front of Caravaggio’s painting The Death of the Virgin at the Louvre. As Nancy describes the somber scene, in which everyone weeps over the death of Mary, he writes that “even the light itself falls.” While the piece has no specific relationship to the painting or essay, I thought Nancy’s beautiful description and the poetry of his sentence reflected the character of this music.

ensemble et cetera
Curt Miller, clarinet
Dustin Donahue, percussion
Scott Worthington, double bass