Aux confins de l’orage

At the Edge of the Storm is a work inspired by three transient luminous phenomena preceding the storm. They occur in the upper atmosphere and are invisible from Earth (we can only observe lightning). To set the way I imagined them to music, I imagined orchestral colors specific to each.

The yellow-orange Spheres are discs of light propagating through space in concentric circles. Born from an electromagnetic impact in the ionosphere, they change color during their propagation, passing from yellow to orange-red. I represented this transformation by chord-spheres traveling from one music stand to another. After the impact given to the keyboards (harp, celesta, vibraphone), they are first played by the winds before extending to the front of the orchestra thanks to the solo string quartet. Moving through the orchestra, they seem to hover above a celestial and motionless carpet of strings. This slow movement thus introduces seven chord-spheres, playing the notes of the founding motif of the piece. In this layer of the atmosphere furthest from us, the light is scintillating but fragile. Unstable, it flickers and soon a rumbling sheet appears, leading to the second movement.

From a thunderous aggregate, the Red Sylphs are born, lower in the mesosphere. They are liquid and incandescent filaments flowing towards the Earth and resolving into luminous volutes of intense red. Played by the high woodwinds, these threads never stop despite the explosions presaging the storm (timpani, bass drum, low winds). Brass and strings alternately play the chord-spheres. The elements come together to ignite in a lyrical song based on the motif flooding the work. The blazing sky glows a little more before calming down and returning to the slow and cold texture of the beginning of the work.

The final movement opens with a windy episode. Dark and mysterious with the deep colors of the orchestra, it makes the transition to the stratosphere. It is in this layer of the atmosphere closest to us that the Blue Jets rocket at a hallucinatory speed. As brief as they are rapid, these veritable rockets of light are played by the woodwinds tinged with the brilliance of the keyboards. In the middle of this very lively movement, a suspended and cosmic moment appears, a brief lull before the unleashing. The horn takes up the motif of the chord-spheres whose resonance propagates into the woodwinds and then the strings with muted tones. The material swells, radiates and exposes the notes of this motif one last time in a chorale bursting out across all the brass instruments. Then, with a certain urgency, the dazzling blue jets resume their frantic course. As they approach the Earth, the sound becomes increasingly abrupt and dry. Finally, a last tumultuous rumble, a final clap of thunder: it's the storm.

Camille Pepin