Spire (2009) for two flutes, clarinets, and cellos

I composed Spire (2009) at the University of California, San Diego. In the work I explore the nature of man-made monuments and the rituals that grow up around them.  The piece is divided into alternating sections labeled as “Monuments” and “Rituals.”  In the “Monument” sections I depict the initial grandeur and implacability of grand human achievements, followed by their inevitable dirtying, decaying, and sliding into ignorance and obscurity.  At the opening, the music is almost cinematic in its focus on the intricate detail of the monument as observed from different vantage points, followed by a powerful expression of the monolithic might of human achievements.  In the following “Monument” sections I show the irreversible damage caused by both natural erosion and inherent human flaws of design, while the final “Monument” section retains only isolated elements of the original structure, like suspicious boulders in an empty field.  Were these once part of a human-made monument, meant to be the eternal witness of a long lost civilization?

In the “Ritual” sections, on the other hand, I compose the tentative beginning of ordered human interactions, as people learn to restrict and suppress their own personalities in order to conform to a communal standard.  The “Ritual” sections eventually evolve into perfect order, which is shown to aid both demagogic violence and collective mourning of the darker actions of one’s society.  The power of ritual and religion, in the end, is far more durable and sustainable than the original structures meant to be the everlasting monuments.  In the end, is the balm of monuments and rituals beneficial to humanity?  Is the comfort drawn from thoughtless repetition and communal empathy worth the risks of ignorance, demagoguery, warfare, and genocide?  The coda answers with the mournful sighs of ghosts over the slow but inexorable breathing of the Earth.