Leap

for violin, viola, cello & piano

 

January 2020, and I begin to work on a new piece for violin, viola, cello and piano. It is commissioned for the wonderful pianist, Natalie Zhu and her chamber ensemble.

I hold a word in my thoughts: leap.  From the Middle English lepen (Old English hlēapan), the word is defined as to make a large jump or sudden movement, usually from one place to another. I think along the lines of springing free, a lover’s leap, bounding into the air and lightness.

I am in the first few weeks of composing, when COVID hits. Everything I have written so far is suddenly wrong. Nothing fits the change of circumstance. I am unbalanced and unsure.

“Why do I write?” Jhumpa Lahiri asks in her book, In Other Words. “To investigate the mystery of existence. To tolerate myself. To get closer to everything that is outside of me.”

I often compose to understand myself, to unravel an old confusion or pain. I also compose to learn more than myself, to project into what might be. These days, however, being present to what is happening in the now speaks louder than any pull from the past or future – and this new piece didn’t fit the current world situation.

After weeks of hesitation, I start again. Loss of footing is more accurate than a leap of joy. My material keeps sliding down, as if gravity is the only scientific principle. The first movement becomes Leap (uncertain ground).

By mid-June, I am sure of my energy and the second movement emerges as Sudden Passage, a return.

          When the pandemic hit, I lept into a world unrecognizable, but not without its gifts.

LISTEN: LEAP,  vln, vla, vlc and piano
Kingston Chamber Music Festival, July 25, 2021