...and there was light (2010)
16 minutes
for orchestra
Instrumentation: Piccolo, 2 Flutes, 2 Oboes, Cor Anglais, 2 Calrinets in Bb, Bass Clarinet, 2 Bassoons, Contrabassoon, 4 Horns in F, 3 Trumpets in C, 2 Tenor Trombones, Bass Trombone, Tuba, Timpani, 3 percussion, Harp, Piano/Celeste, Strings.
Commissioned by the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra, with thanks to the generosity of Mr Norman Schueler and Mrs Carol Schueler, in honour of Mrs Gogo Schueler.
Recipient of the 2010 Schueler Prize for Composition.
Premiered by the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra at the Adelaide Festival Theatre on the 15th October 2010. Conducted by Arvo Volmer.
Reference recording available upon request.
16 minutes
for orchestra
Instrumentation: Piccolo, 2 Flutes, 2 Oboes, Cor Anglais, 2 Calrinets in Bb, Bass Clarinet, 2 Bassoons, Contrabassoon, 4 Horns in F, 3 Trumpets in C, 2 Tenor Trombones, Bass Trombone, Tuba, Timpani, 3 percussion, Harp, Piano/Celeste, Strings.
Commissioned by the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra, with thanks to the generosity of Mr Norman Schueler and Mrs Carol Schueler, in honour of Mrs Gogo Schueler.
Recipient of the 2010 Schueler Prize for Composition.
Premiered by the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra at the Adelaide Festival Theatre on the 15th October 2010. Conducted by Arvo Volmer.
Reference recording available upon request.
Genesis 1:2-3
The earth was formless and empty, and darkness covered the deep waters…
Then God said “Let there be light,” and there was light.
The earth was formless and empty, and darkness covered the deep waters…
Then God said “Let there be light,” and there was light.
In nine short months I have produced the most amazing creation- a little person with tiny, fine features, long fingers and toes, his dad’s eyes, my nose, a narrow strip of ‘old man’ hair around the back of his head, a round belly and really strong little legs. We have named him Oscar.
The nine months it took to create Oscar were some of the most rewarding and challenging of my life. Throughout the journey of pregnancy, I was acutely aware that there was nothing I could really do to knit this tiny body together any quicker, or better than what would occur naturally. Certainly an appropriate diet and a bit of exercise wouldn’t hurt, but our little man would do his thing in his time, and arrive into the world just as he was meant to.
In the same nine months, I composed this piece of music. At times, it seemed it was going nowhere, that I had nothing of interest to put down on paper, that nothing new was being created. At other times, it swelled and grew at a surprising rate. I was often frustrated that some hours spent creating the work did not prove as fruitful as others. This is a feeling I have struggled with before- am I really writing the piece, or is it writing itself? What will it look like once it’s done? Will it arrive into the world as I intend, or as it is meant to?
Genesis tells of a much greater creation story- the arrival of light into a formless, dark, empty space. It is effortless, intimate and all consuming. It initiates the creation of the land, the sky and all living things, including the crown of creation, mankind. I imagine a weaving together of multiple threads, a miraculous and perfect growth that begins simply but multiplies over and over to complete the most beautiful creation.
…and there was light is a symphonic poem telling of the nine months in which I made my little boy Oscar Samuel, and is dedicated to him.
© Anne Cawrse, September 2010
The nine months it took to create Oscar were some of the most rewarding and challenging of my life. Throughout the journey of pregnancy, I was acutely aware that there was nothing I could really do to knit this tiny body together any quicker, or better than what would occur naturally. Certainly an appropriate diet and a bit of exercise wouldn’t hurt, but our little man would do his thing in his time, and arrive into the world just as he was meant to.
In the same nine months, I composed this piece of music. At times, it seemed it was going nowhere, that I had nothing of interest to put down on paper, that nothing new was being created. At other times, it swelled and grew at a surprising rate. I was often frustrated that some hours spent creating the work did not prove as fruitful as others. This is a feeling I have struggled with before- am I really writing the piece, or is it writing itself? What will it look like once it’s done? Will it arrive into the world as I intend, or as it is meant to?
Genesis tells of a much greater creation story- the arrival of light into a formless, dark, empty space. It is effortless, intimate and all consuming. It initiates the creation of the land, the sky and all living things, including the crown of creation, mankind. I imagine a weaving together of multiple threads, a miraculous and perfect growth that begins simply but multiplies over and over to complete the most beautiful creation.
…and there was light is a symphonic poem telling of the nine months in which I made my little boy Oscar Samuel, and is dedicated to him.
© Anne Cawrse, September 2010