born in Le Havre in 1947, he first received degrees in Arabic studies and economics before turning to composition, which he studied under the guidance of Olivier Messiaen. Having won the Prix de Rome in 1971, he spent two years at the Villa Médicis. Upon his return to Paris in 1973, he founded the Itinéraire ensemble with a group of young composers and performers; the group became widely renowned for its groundbreaking explorations of the relationship between instrumental performance and many aspects of electronics. In the 1980s, Murail began using computer technology to further his research into acoustic phenomena. This led him to years of collaboration with ircam, where he directed the composition programme from 1991 to 1997 and helped develop the Patchwork composition software. He has also taught at numerous schools and festivals worldwide, including the Darmstadt Courses, the Abbaye de Royaumont and the Toho University in Tokyo. He currently is a professor of composition at Columbia University in New York.
Selected works (since 1990): Allégories for six instruments and electronics (1989–90), Le Fou ± pattes bleues for flute and piano (1990), La dynamique des fluides for orchestra (1990–91), L’Attente for seven instrumentalists (2nd version, 1992), Serendib for 22 performers (1992), La Barque mystique for ensemble (1993), La Mandragore for piano (1993), L’Esprit des dunes for 11 instruments and electronics (1993–94), …amaris et dulcibus aquis… for mixed choir and electronics (1995), Unanswered questions for flute (1995), Le Partage des eaux for large orchestra (1996), Attracteurs étranges for cello (1992), Bois flotté for ensemble and electronics (1997), Comme un oeil suspendu et poli par le songe... for piano (1998), Feuilles ± travers les cloches for flute, violin, cello and piano (1998), Winter Fragments for ensemble and electronics (2000), Le Lac for ensemble (2001), Les travaux et les jours for piano (2002), Terre d’ombre for large orchestra and electronics (2003–04), Pour adoucir le cours du temps for 18 instruments and electronics (2005). Winter Fragments
Why such a title? In principle I do not like giving titles to my pieces before they are finished; doing so is a bit like counting chickens before they are hatched. In its final shape a composition can differ much from the original plan. A plan is a general concept and ideas for sounds, whereas the final product are sounds organized in time. There is a gulf between the two.
You may take it for granted that in this case the title is a gesture towards the festival at which the work was premiered (‘Sound of Winter and Today’). It is true though that the composition came into being not without any reference to the real winter which I experienced north of New York, where I now live. It is a land of lakes and hills. The lake close to our house became frozen and there was a 60-centimetre blanket of snow around. Most of the time, the sun shone brightly and the house was bathed in intensive sunlight, but sometimes a violent storm came, after which calm and blinding light returned.
Does the line-up of the ensemble have any symbolic meaning? No! What really counts is not the instruments but the way in which they are employed. Using exactly the same instruments (flute, clarinet, violin, cello and piano) I composed works which sounded quite differently. In Winter Fragments I used the same combination of instruments for practical purposes but I achieve still something different again, something specific. The score also includes electronically generated sounds, blended into the sound of the ensemble. This is an attempt to a give a new lease of life to my compositional experience explored in Bois Flotté for small ensemble and synthetic sounds, but this time in a different style and using a different musical and sound idiom. With the assistance of the studio in Annecy I also focused more on spatialization.
Can anyone define a successful composition? For me, success does not have to equate with a broad audience or vice versa. The pieces which I consider successful may seem strange to many a listener. In my view, the hallmark of quality should be looked for primarily in the fluency of the music. For me this is of great significance (though in truth nothing is indispensable in art). My intuition tells me when I attain this state of fluency. This is related to the characteristics of timbre, harmony, figuration, the relationship between these elements (‘objects’) and their placing in time. There are no clear formulas here, because what counts is the perception of the ‘objects’, the emotions they generate, the psychological effect of the succession of these emotions, the distortions in the perception of time caused by the quality of selected ‘objects’ or their direct relationship, etc.
All this is very complicated, so let me just say that my ultimate aim is to create and streamline my strictly individual language. This may not be a precise description but I cannot think of anything better. I have in mind a language which I could use as a means of communication and which would be as flexible and universal as, for example, the idiom of the last phase of the development of the tonal system. Such a language could serve to revive certain lasting, universal categories of musical expression, but without yielding to nostalgic sentiments or embarking on the paths of postmodernism. Tristan Murail
