for metal percussion and electronics
Music is an ongoing series of reflections and meditations on the malleable, transient nature of consciousness.
In general I view composition as cognitive experimentation.
In composing Fire I was was thinking of its myriad symbolic connotations: It is at once magical, ephemeral, a picture in the minds eye of the human spirit, vaporous, flickering, impulsive, unpredictable, dangerous, frightening, beautiful, & the stuff of torture and mythological eternal punishment as well as sex and passion altogether fascinating.
Below is the poem that the voices in "Fire" are speaking, and which informs its colors and textures.
Joseph Waters, May 2004
by William Blake, from "The Four Zoas"
is the demon -
His limbs bound down mock at his chains, for over them a flame
Of circling fire unceasing plays; to feed them with life & bring
The virtues of the Eternal worlds, ten thousand thousand spirits
Of life lament around the demon, going forth and returning.
At his enormous call they flee into the heavens of heavens
And back return with wine & food, or dive into the deeps
To bring the thrilling joys of sense to quell his ceaseless rage.
His eyes, the lights of his large soul, contract or else expand:
Contracted they behold the secrets of the infinite mountains,
The veins of gold & silver & the hidden things of Vala,
Whatever grows from its pure bud or breathes a fragrant soul:
Expanded they behold the terrors of the Sun & Moon,
The Elemental Planets & the orbs of eccentric fire.
His nostrils breathe a fiery flame, his locks are like the forests
Of wild beasts; there the lion glares, the tyger & wolf howl there,
And the eagle hides her young in cliffs and precipices.
His bosom is like starry heaven expanded; all the stars
Sing round; there waves the harvest & the vintage rejoices; the springs
Flow into rivers of delight; there the spontaneous flowers
Drink, laugh & sing, the grasshopper, the Emmet and the Fly;
The golden Moth builds there a house & spreads her silken bed.
His loins inwove with silken fires are like a furnace fierce:
As the strong Bull in summer time when the bees sing round the heath
Where the herds low after the shadow & after the water spring,
The num'rous flocks cover the mountains & shine along the valley.
His knees are rocks of adament & rubie & emerald:
Spirits of strength in Palaces rejoice in golden armour
Armed with spear & shield they drink & rejoice over the slain.
Such is the demon, such his terror on the nether deep.
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