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The Composer Essay Project
Kaija Saariaho’s Lonh – an appreciation
By Jocelyn Morlock
I first encountered the luminous music of Kaija Saariaho as a student in the late 1990s. Having come to
composition from a background as a pianist, (and being decidedly underwhelmed by integral serialism) I was
fascinated by the new music I was hearing that lived and breathed in the area between those twelve
chromatic pitches. My introduction to this music was by way of Giacinto Scelsi (1905 – 1988); much of his
music is focused on a single pitch, and the variations of colour, timbre, and width (from senza vibrato
through quarter-tone trills) that can be found there. Listening to Scelsi for the first time was analogous to
looking at microscopic images of porcelain, and seeing all the detailed texture and variation that comprised
the apparently smooth surface.
Having told them of my newfound love for Scelsi, my enthusiastic fellow composers helpfully directed me to
music of the spectralists, a group of composers working out of IRCAM – L’Institut de Recherche et
Coordination Acoustique/Musique in Paris – from the 1970s onwards. Dissatisfied with the constraints of
serialism, these composers, notably Gerard Grisey, Tristan Murail and later (ca. 1982) Kaija Saariaho, sought
2 ways to combine scientific inquiry into the components of sound with a more intuitive means of pitch
generation. Spectral analysis of sounds could be used to generate pitch material by determining the individual
frequencies that make up a more complex instrumental sound. Frequently analyzed sounds include gong and
bell notes; Saariaho has based several early works on analyses of cello trills, and also the changing shape of
? to here
a cello note subject to increasing bow pressure. [The significant and rather enthralling piece to listen
is Lichtbogen from 1986.] The resulting material more closely resembles a harmonic series* than a division
into twelve chromatic pitches.
& Œ œ bœj ‰n œ
.
˙
Ó
*The ratios 1, 1/2, 1/3, 1/4, 1/5, 1/6, etc., as expressed in terms of pitch.
?
Harmonic series on C
œ
œ
œ œ #œ
œ
& œ œ bœ œ
œ
Ratios
1
1/2 1/3
1/4
1/5
1/6
1/7 1/8 1/9 1/10
Analyzing sound spectra, while a significant method of generating pitch material in the earlier days of
spectralism, is not a necessity; the concept of spectral music has become more generalized. As of the early
2000s, the primary focus of music that can be considered spectral is timbre, timbre being defined as the
colour of a sound – its tonal quality or character, as opposed to its pitch, volume, or duration. Long-term
changes in timbre, and timbral structure and variation, could be used analogously to the way that large-scale
harmonic motion provided structure in music of the 18th and 19th centuries. [Those looking for a detailed essay
on this should consult Saariaho’s own article Timbre and harmony: interpolations of timbral structures, from
Contemporary Music Review, 1987, pp. 93-133.]
&
&
Page 2 | Music on Main’s Composer Essay Project | Kaija Saariaho’s Lonh – an appreciation by Jocelyn Morlock
What is apparent to the listener in pieces such as Oi Kuu, (1990), on this year’s Modulus Festival, is the
incredible range of sound colours that can be produced by just two instruments, and the way that musical
tension and interest can be created by non-traditional melodic shaping; each note has its own continuum of
colour and texture, such that a single note or trill may function as an entire melodic gesture. The effect is a
form of melodic minimalism, where the listener’s concentration is on the ever-changing colours of the cello
and the bass flute as they mimic and amplify each other.
Saariaho's early output was almost exclusively songs for soprano voice; not until 1976 did her instructor,
Paavo Heininen, convince her to explore other genres. Her focus in the subsequent two decades was on
instrumental music, frequently with electronics, but she returned to her first compositional love in the late
1990s. Rather surprisingly for one coming out of the spectral tradition, Saariaho has of late become known
as a composer of operas, winning the Grawemeyer prize in 2003 for L’amour de loin (premiered in 2000)
and writing three subsequent operas in the early twentieth century: Adriana Mater, La Passion de Simone,
and Émilie, all with librettos by author Amin Maalouf.
Lonh, her 1996 piece for soprano and electronics, is a watershed work and a significant precursor to
L’amour de loin. The opera was based on a fictionalized account of the life of Jaufré Rudel, whom Saariaho
first learned about while reading a text on medieval legends by Jacques Roubaud. Lonh takes its text from
one of Rudel’s few surviving songs texts, Laqand li jorn son lonc en mai - “when the days are long in May.”
Roubaud’s translation of the original Occitan text into French is heard in the electronic component of the
work, as is his reading of the original text.
Saariaho’s writing in Lonh juxtaposes several techniques. Aspects of spectralism coincide with more modal,
lyrical passages that are audibly influenced by medieval vocal music. The pre-recorded electronics are
comprised of glistening, gamelan-like percussion (synthesized gong and bell sounds), as well as musicconcrete-influenced atmospheric sounds including wind, rain, birdsong, speech, whispering, and prerecorded singing. The combination of live electronic processing (primarily very long reverb and also some
filtering) with pre-recorded soprano singing gives the impression that the live singer is accompanying herself
– it is possible to hear her sung notes fading off into oblivion while she sings or whispers more text. The
ingenious use of pre-recorded and live electronic processing creates a wide variety of accompanimental
textures which give lie to the economy of a single-performer work.
Saariaho’s use of text in Lonh is appealingly innovative. At times she uses an entire section of text, but she is
unafraid to focus on specific, particularly suggestive words, or to use fragmentation to create dialogue. She
incorporates text in three languages (Occitan, French, and English), thus ensuring that the text is
comprehensible while maintaining the distant flavour of the medieval Occitan. Fragmentation of the text is
used to create a sense of disorder and distance, but also to produce a dialogue between live and prerecorded voices.
Lonh is written in nine through-composed sections – a Prologue, seven verses, and a Tornada (a final
commentary on the preceding work). Most of the sections are discrete and have distinct moods and textural
identities.
Page 3 | Music on Main’s Composer Essay Project | Kaija Saariaho’s Lonh – an appreciation by Jocelyn Morlock
The entire text of the first verse is spoken in the prologue, which may be performed in either English or
French. The mood of the piece is set by the electronics; the rain, whispering, distant birds, and hypnotic
percussion are ruminative and mysterious.
The seminal melodic material of Lonh was written to follow the contours of Rudel’s song, without actually
quoting it. Like the Prologue, it takes as its text the first verse of Laqand li jorn, this time in the original
Occitan. The material of this lyrically written, modal song is used throughout the rest of Lonh in a more
fragmented and disjunct manner. Grace-note figures, trills, semitone glissandi and variations between regular
vocal tone, breathy tone, and whispering comprise a variety of live vocal timbres. The stepwise melodies
occupy a relatively small area of the soprano’s range, and center around the D-Dorian mode scale with an
intriguing alternation between B-flat and B-natural. [A particularly beautiful moment occurs at m. 74 where
the first instance of B-natural coincides with the text “vauc de talan enbroncs” - “I go bent and bowed with
desire.”] The most unusual feature of the vocal material is that nearly every line creates a rising motion.
Those that fall generally do so by only a semitone, like a musical representation of sighing.
Saariaho sets the second verse as a rather disjunct dialogue – the soprano alternately sings and speaks
small phrases of the text, with the taped male voice whispering other phrases.
The setting of the third verse is very short, simple and fragmentary – only a few words are chosen
[“separate…see…but not…for too many passages and paths…and for God’s will…”] The whispering continues
here, though the individual words are no longer audible. The final phrase of this verse marks the first time
that a wide leap occurs in the vocal melody, and the transition to the fourth verse. This leaping, ecstatic
music is centred on the text fragments “Bem para jois” and “l’amor de loing” [“I will feel joy”, “love from
afar.”] The electronics become increasingly sparse in this section, emphasizing the lonely passion of the solo
singer.
The fifth and third verses are closely related. Both discuss seeing; in the fifth verse, the focus is “could be
seen by her lovely eyes.” The rapid motion and energy in the electronic percussion contrasts with the slower
and gentler vocal lines. The vocal lines of the third and fifth verses are closely related; the fifth starts with a
long trill on E, where the third left off; each is comprised of fragments, all of which begin with grace notes or
other very short notes and rise to a single long, high note. The larger structure of the vocal parts of the third
and fifth verses are arch forms which begin and end with particularly short phrases, that lengthen and
become more elaborate to the middle of each section and then taper off towards the end.
Verse six contrasts strongly with the previous four verses; it may be seen as an amplification of verse one
due to its calm, serious mood. It is comprised of the most long, slow and solemn vocal lines. These cover a
large range, the largest thus far, frequently floating on a high A. The electronics are very simple and avoid all
rhythmic pulse; bells punctuate certain words, and there is a lingering background hum created from filtered
and processed whispering. The live soprano sound is also subjected to a long reverb, adding to the surreal
effect. When writing for the voice, a composer will tend to save the highest notes for the most significant text.
Combining the use of these dramatically high notes with a radical change in texture and tempo is a striking
way for the composer to draw the listener’s attention, and mark this verse as the climax of the piece.
Page 4 | Music on Main’s Composer Essay Project | Kaija Saariaho’s Lonh – an appreciation by Jocelyn Morlock
The text fragments Saariaho has chosen here [“Dieus fetz tot et fermet cest’amor…”, or “God who made
everything and formed this love…”] are very simple, and could perhaps be taken as a statement of fact, but
they are set as if they are an unfinished plea for intervention. As the music fades off into the distance, and
the live soprano’s sound is swallowed up by the electronics, Saariaho’s music suggests for the first time a
certain despair and powerlessness. The protagonist can’t change her situation, she can’t be with her distant
love, nor be free of her desire.
The music of the seventh verse resembles that of the fourth, but the tone is now restless and searching,
rather than ecstatic. The vocal lines are similarly athletic, but the sole text used is “no other joy pleases me.”
The Tornada returns to the bird-filled, whispering garden of the Prologue, sounding more ominous and
forlorn than previously. The final text is used ambiguously: the whole text set here is “but what I want…is
forbidden to me…not to be loved…” The ghostly duet between the whispering male voice and the live soprano
repeats “amatz, amatz” (“loved”) over and over, creating a sense of eternal longing. The very long reverb on
the sustained soprano notes allows for the live soprano vocalise to continue even while she is whispering
“amatz.”
Lonh, a work scored only for voice and electronics, creates a remarkable atmosphere, full of colour. From
birdsong, languid whispering and barely-audible percussive flutterings to operatic melismas and fierce,
rhythmic gong melodies, Saariaho creates a sound-world that the listener could never expect, and yet ideally
captures all the changing emotions of the distant lover. This synthesis of sophisticated timbral textures with
clear, virtuosic and lyrical writing has led her to produce some of the most fascinating music of the late 20th
and early 21st centuries.
Jocelyn Morlock. August 2012. Vancouver, Canada.
Jocelyn Morlock is Music on Main’s Composer In Residence. You can learn more about her work at jocelynmorlock.wordpress.com.
Page 5 | Music on Main’s Composer Essay Project | Kaija Saariaho’s Lonh – an appreciation by Jocelyn Morlock
The following is a translation of Jaufré Rudel’s Laqand li jorn son lonc en mai, from which the text of Lonh is
drawn.
I
When the days are long in May
The sweet song of birds from afar seems lovely to me
And when I have left there
I remember a distant love
I walk bent and bowed with desire
So much so that neither song nor hawthorn flower
Please me more than the icy winter.
V I really trust in the Lord
Through whom I will see the distant love
But for something that fails me
I have two sorrows for she is so far away
Ah, if only I were a pilgrim there
So that my stick and my bundle
Could be seen by her lovely eyes.
II Never will I enjoy love
If I do not enjoy this distant love
For a nobler or better one I do not know
Anywhere, neither near nor far
So high is its true, real price
That there, in the kingdom of the Saracens
I wish to be proclaimed her captive.
VI God who made everything that comes and goes
And formed this distant love
Grant me the power of my heart
Soon to see the distant love
Truly in a propitious place
And that the room and garden
Always appear as palaces to me.
III Sad and joyous, I will separate from her
When I see that distant love
But I know not when I will see her
For our lands are too far away
There are so many passages and paths
And in this I am no seer
But let everything be according to God's will.
VII He speaks true who says I am avid
And longing for the distant love
For no joy gives me pleasure
Like the pleasure of the distant love
But what I want is forbidden to me
So my godfather endowed me
That though loving I will not have been loved.
IV I will feel joy for sure when I ask her
For the love of God the distant love
And if it pleases her I will live
Near her even if I am from far away
Then will come our faithful meeting
When I, the faraway lover, will be so near
That I will console myself with her beautiful words.
But what I want is forbidden to me
So may my godfather be cursed
Who made me not to be loved.