“In 2011, the Association Eustache gave me carte blanche to compose a piece on the occasion of Le Grand Eustache’s annual concert in Lausanne, Switzerland.
I composed a work for my favourite sonorities, dear to my universe: the infinite register of strings. Starting with a quartet formation, I added the double bass for
its palette of low sounds, and percussion for its resonances.
The compositional work was put together as rehearsals progressed, with experimentations and improvisations guiding the writing of the score. This quintet explores the full richness of the strings, from the most extreme sounds to the most unknown. It is a bruitist piece, which offers us great refinement and considerable inventiveness.
Disconcerting, dreamlike moments… suspended moments.”
Annik Rody, violin. Patricia Bosshard, violin, composition. Marie Schwab, alto. Sara Oswald, cello. Jocelyne Rudasigwa, doublebass. Luc Müller, percussion.
“Patricia had to stand on tiptoes to reach the gilt handle that only yielded with difficulty under her weight. With both hands, she pushed open the rosewood door and long remained motionless on the threshold. Lining the four walls of the room were maple shelves on which stood hundreds of unknown objects.
After having climbed a pair of steps in ebony, Patricia delicately picked up an object and set it on the long spruce table that occupied the middle of the room.
She made it spin delicately on the table, looking at it from all different angles until
a particular alignment of its elements made a new object suddenly appear
out of the object. Her eyes slowly screwed up, and a smile played in her pupils.
After a few minutes, she went to look for another object and placed it next to the first. This was a fine rectangular plate in metal, flexible, cold and shiny.
A third object, a small, silky ball of black horse hair, soon joined the others.
She had fun putting them together, exploring all possible combinations,
making worlds suddenly appear.
By thus exploring new arrangements of materials, forms, colours, the time passed so quickly that the light was already fading. She pushed the heavy door, resisting the temptation to turn around and without knowing that she was feeling nostalgia for the first time, when she noticed, all about her, that the landscape had changed.” Antonio Albanese