This piece for choir and electronics (2023) is a search for a musical metaphor of light – a radiating sound object, a choir emanating light, inspired by Lux aeterna by György Ligeti, one of my lighthouse composers. The title comes from the interviews with Ligeti who used this term to describe sound surfaces of changing colours in terms of harmony and timbre which appeared immediately as a perfect concept to my composition referring to the optic, light-based phenomenon of iridescence in nature.

The voices of the choir are constantly moving in a circle from the highest frequencies down to the lowest pitches and returning, gradually expanding the micro-polyphonic sphere, densifying, enriching, transforming it towards its utmost limits. The only form of sound in the piece is a pure wave, like a simple breath in and out which becomes slower and longer along the organic evolution of the entire sound body. The only text material used, pronounced without consonants and therefore accessible only for the singers, is a phrase from Richard Brautigan’s poem Star Hole (“I sit here on the end of a star”) which, like a mantra, is repeated infinite times adding a melancholic, nostalgic, lightly apocalyptic dimension to the lux aeterna theme:

I sit here
on the perfect end
of a star,
watching light
pour itself toward
me.

The light pours
itself through
a small hole
in the sky.

I’m not very happy,
but I can see
how things are
faraway.
Richard Brautigan

The work was commissioned by IRCAM – Centre Pompidou and SWR for the centenary of György Ligeti’s birth.

Justė Janulytė