SAILING TO BYZANTIUM ONUR TÜRKMEN / YURODNY ENSEMBLE Sailing to Byzantium is a major new work by Turkish composer Onur Türkmen for the Irish new music ensemble Yurodny. th The piece focuses on parallels between the work of two great 20 Century writers: the Irish poet William Butler Yeats (1865 – 1939) and the Turkish poet Ahmet Haşim (1884 – 1933). Born in different places during the same period of upheaval, both poets lived to witness their nation fight for independence and shared similar philosophical and aesthetic concerns, in particular a peculiarly distant attitude towards modernism that derived from an astute sense of the retelling of history through myth and thus placing the writer in a peripheral position. This adopted remoteness from the modernism of their age led both poets to two central poetic tenets: firstly an embracing of the traditional arts of metric poetry and the retention of sonorous verbal metre evoking ancient rituals, songs and other cultural imagery, and secondly a concept best formulated by the musicologist Charles Rosen as “past within th present”, in which he explains the 19 Century Lied concepts and their relationships with contemporary philosophical trends, for example Schubert’s Winterreise and its drawing from the philosophy of Goethe. For Yeats this took a political perspective, in particular relation to Ireland’s independence, for Haşim this was more about emphasizing the common ground between Islamic poetry traditions and symbolism. The main objective of the composer Onur Türkmen in working with this material is to embed poetry in music in order to pursue a course that is not circumscribed by material based structuralisms or conceptualisations; but rather which communicates with the shared memories of human heritage through emotional and perceptive profundity. It is his belief that such an approach can contribute to the understanding that the perceived dichotomies of East and West is only a political entity, whereas culture and humanity itself cannot be so easily categorized. Within a single moment encompassing both past and present the poet’s soul inevitably penetrates into a Proustian ‘mémoire involontaire’ where the symbol and the symbolized are merged towards a transcendental unity that seeks for the unseen beyond the apparent and reaches out to the unknown through the apprehended. In the inability to define the language of symbolism all dichotomies like objectivity/subjectivity, past/present, east/west fade away into a common dream shared by all. Sailing to Byzantium by Onur Türmen for the Yurodny Ensemble is scored for Voice Kemençe Violin Cello Ney Saxophone Trombone Celtic Harp Piano / Percussion YURODNY Led by saxophonist and composer Nick Roth, Yurodny perform contemporary settings of traditional music from around the world and work collaboratively with performers and composers who embrace a reimagining of tradition and the vitality of the present. In 2013 the Yurodny Ensemble received the EU Presidency Award by Culture Ireland as part of an international programme celebrating Ireland’s cultural wealth during their tenure of the Presidency of the Council of the European Union, and which included headlining performances at the Songlines Encounters Festival in Kings Place, London, GAIA Festival in Switzerland and a two-week Scandinavian tour. Upcoming highlights for 2014 include tours of Ireland, Hungary, France and Switzerland, a performance at the renowned Festival au Desert, Mali and a Norwegian tour featuring special guest Stian Carstenson including performances at the Oslo World Music Festival and Transform Trondheim Festival. In addition to their touring schedule, Yurodny will also be returning to the studio to record their third album for Diatribe Records, ‘Haivka’, featuring a traditional Ukrainian choral ensemble from the Carpathian mountains and special guest composer Alla Zagaykevych. CORA VENUS LUNNY – VIOLIN OLEG PONOMAREV - VIOLIN ADRIAN HART – VIOLIN, ELECTRONICS KATE ELLIS – CELLO NICK ROTH – SAXOPHONES COLM O’HARA – TROMBONE FRANCESCO TURRISI – ACCORDION, PERCUSSION DAVE REDMOND – DOUBLE BASS PHIL MACMULLAN – DRUMS Media Links Cork Jazz: http://youtu.be/UtBsMsX47zU Kings Place: http://youtu.be/IHkVlbBh94s SciLens: http://youtu.be/_Z83y7i4TmE Winter Tour: http://youtu.be/prUWIQhCnmI For booking / management contact: Nick Roth at Diatribe Records Email: [email protected] For promotion / PR contact: Frances Mitchell at Invented Artists Email: [email protected] For more info: www.yurodny.com Onur Türkmen is a Turkish composer who is mostly known for innovative usage of Turkish music instruments and maqams in relation with his concept entitled hat (Islamic calligraphy). His pieces has been performed by many different ensembles including BL!NDMAN (drums), E-XXI, Yurodny Ensemble, Arcobaleni Duo, Hezarfen Ensemble, Adapter Ensemble, University of Memphis Contemporary Chamber Players, Ellen Jewett, Bristol University New Music Ensemble, Razumovsky Ensemble, Talking Drums Trio, İstanbul Modern Music Ensemble at organizations like MUSMA, ISCM, Schleswig Holstein Festival, Maerz Musik Festival, Kreuztanbul, Istanbul Music Festival, Mediterraneus Project, Klasik Keyifler Festivali and China-Turkey Communication Concerts. He is currently teaching www.onurturkmen.info at Bilkent University Music and Performing Arts Department. Lauren Kinsella Irish born Lauren Kinsella is a contemporary vocalist based in London. A resident since 2010, she continues to establish her career as a singer, composer, bandleader and educator in the UK, Ireland and more recently in Europe. Lauren is passionate about uniting the voice within instrumental sound and blending extended vocal technique and poetry in both improvised and composed settings – which, for her, are closely linked. At the core of her work lies a deep interest in communication and the development of improvised music within new physical and stylistic territories. Described by BBC Radio 3’s Jez Nelson, Kinsella’s ‘freeranging vocals and de-constructed syllables really impress’ and it is with this impetus that she seeks to contextualize voice in sound, words and song. Her work has been reviewed in several countries including the USA, Germany, the UK, France, Norway, Switzerland and Ireland and she regularly appears on radio stations such as BBC Radio 3, BBC Radio Scotland, RTE Lyric FM, Jazz FM and Sverigesradio (Sweden). Performance festival highlights include The BBC Proms Plus Late, The Shiva Festival, Malleswaram, India, Dublin’s Culture Night Festival, 12 Points Festival, Lupino Live, The Cork Jazz Festival, The European Jazz Nights Festival, The Songlines Encounters Festival and The London Jazz Festival. She performs with and writes for her own quintet, Thought-Fox, The Bears with bassist Chris Hyson, Blue-Eyed Hawk; whose debut album will be released on Edition Records in 2014 and she collaborates in duos with Swiss drummer Alex Huber, Loop Collective pianist Dan Nicholls and in a newly formed trio with acclaimed cellist Hannah Marshall and trumpeter Nick Malcolm. She has released albums under her own name with Thought-Fox in 2012 described as ‘original and highly satisfying’ (Ian Patterson AllAboutJazz) and with Alex Huber entitled ‘All this talk about’ described as ’a beautiful, original and surprising release’ (Jan Granile Jazznytt). She is the featured vocalist on the debut album of Laura Jurd’s Chaos Orchestra released this year. She is recipient of Awards include the 2013 Kenny Wheeler Jazz Prize. Lauren currently teaches jazz voice in Leeds Conservatory on the undergraduate program. http://laurenkinsella.com/ Nermin Kaygusuz Nermin Kaygusuz, who sings the settings of Ahmet Haşim’s poems and play kemençe at the “Sailing to Byzantium” project, is one of Turkey’s most unique musicians who perform both in traditional Turkish music and new music genres. She has worked with ensembles such as Istanbul Baroque Ensemble, Avaze, Arayışlar, Gönülden Damlalar, Melodias Epicas, Buluşma. Last year she performed with Hezarfen Ensemble at Berlin Maerz Musik festival and gave concerts, lectures in Europe with the microtonal guitar - kemençe duo that she established with Tolgahan Çoğulu. She is currently a professor and head of performance department at ITÜ Turkish Music State Concervatory . Sailing to Byzantium Dramaturgical Outline Batan Ayın Kenarına Satırlar (Lines by the side of a setting moon) Bir vurulmuş ilahı andırıyor Suda teskin-i zahm eden bu kamer, Nısf-ı leylin miyah-ı dürunda Yıkanır, dinlenir, durur ve güler… Eli bazen “sükut”u ürkütüyor Ki miyah ellerinde habide, Ediyor bazı kuşları da’vet Ah o kuşlar ki şimdi bi-hareket Suların ateşinde sallanıyor… Zühali bir cidalin asarı: Gizli bir kavs-i bi-tenahiden Oklar indikçe – aks-i alem-i dür – O muzi cüsse-i ilahiden Suya bir hun-ı ateşin akıyor… English Translation Lines by the side of a setting moon Like a fallen deity, this moon, Healing wounds in the water, In the distant pools of the midnight Bathes, rests, stays and smiles… His hand sometimes disturbs the silence -And in those hands sleeps the lakeInviting certain birds, O those birds, now motionless, Swaying in the fires of the waters… The works of a Saturnian war: As an endless curve of a secret bow Sends its arrows – reflections of a distant worldFrom that shining holy body flow Streams of fiery blood into the water… Kuğular (Swans) Suda yorgun, muzi tecelliler Ediyor bir takarrübü ifşa: Kuğular, leyl içinde, sine-güşa Geliyor gözlerinde mestiler; Sanki mahmul- i hande keştiler Ki olunmuş nücümden inşa… English Translation Swans Tired, shining apperations in water Disclosing an intimacy Swans, in the night, with breasts bare, Are coming, with drunken eyes; As if intoxicated with their load of smiles Built from the stars. Among School Children I I walk through the long schoolroom questioning; A kind old nun in a white hood replies; The children learn to cipher and to sing, To study reading-books and history, To cut and sew, be neat in everything In the best modern way--the children's eyes In momentary wonder stare upon A sixty-year-old smiling public man II I dream of a Ledaean body, bent Above a sinking fire,a tale that she Told of a harsh reproof, or trivial event That changed some childish day to tragedy-Told, and it seemed that our two natures blent Into a sphere from youthful sympathy, Or else, to alter Plato's parable, Into the yolk and white of the one shell. III And thinking of that fit of grief or rage I look upon one child or t'other there And wonder if she stood so at that age-For even daughters of the swan can share Something of every paddler's heritage-And had that colour upon cheek or hair, And thereupon my heart is driven wild: She stands before me as a living child. IV Her present image floats into the mind-Did Quattrocentro finger fashion it Hollow of cheek as though it drank the wind And took a mess of shadows for its meat? And I though never of Ledaean kind had pretty plumage once--enough of that, Better to smile on all that smile, and show There is a comfortable kind of old scarecrow V What youthful mother, a shape upon her lap Honey of generation had betrayed, And that must sleep, shriek, struggle to escape As recollection or the drug decide, Would think her son, did she but see that shape With sixty or more winters on its head, A compensation for the pang of his birth, Or the uncertainty of his setting forth? VI Plato thought nature but a spume that plays Upon a ghostly paradigm of things; Soldier Aristotle played the taws Upon the bottom of a king of kings; World-famous golden-thighed Pythagoras Fingered upon a fiddle-stick or strings What a star sang and careless Muses heard: Old clothes upon old sticks to scare a bird. VII Both nuns and mothers worship images, But those the candles light are not as those That animate a mother's reveries, But keep a marble or a bronze repose. And yet they too break hearts--O Presences That passion, piety or affection knows, And that all heavenly glory symbolize-O self-born mockers of man's enterprise; VIII Labour is blossoming or dancing where The body is not bruised to pleasure soul, Nor beauty born out of its own despair, Nor blear-eyed wisdom out of midnight oil. O chestnut-tree, great-rooted blossomer, Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole? O body swayed to music, O brightening glance, How can we know the dancer from the dance? Ruhum (My Soul) Hicran-ı muhitat ile solmuş, sarı, çıplak, Rakid, ölü bir havza düşen bir kuru yaprak Sessizce nasıl izler açar sine-i mada Ey tude-ı nur-ıelem, ey çehre-i sade! Bir göl gibi durgun uyuyan ruhuma nurun Aktıkça, o sakin suda her lem’a durum Bir çin-i felaket gibi ra’şeyle genişler… Ey eski kamer, ey ezli ruh-ı münevver, Sen şimdi bu tüllerle muhitatı sararken, Nurunda teselli, bütün alama koşarken, Yalnız bu derin gölde senin açtığın izler, Bir gizli gamın şehka-i seyyalini gizler. Bir göl ki semasında ne ahenk, ne saye Vermez o büyük uzlete bir hadd ü nihaye. Gençlik ve emel, hüzn-i civarında dikendir, Üstünde esen nefhada bir girye nihendir. Tülden ve buluttan ve bütün sim ü semenden Bir hab-ı serabi dökülürken yere senden, Sen her suda bir başka güzellikle doğarsın, Ormanların aguş-ı sükutundan akan ab, Senden alır ahengine bir girye-i bitab. Göller ki öper hüsnünü yalnız leb-i saye, Sevdalara bir cennet olan sayeli göller Altında senin, hüsn-i esatir ile titrer… Ruhumda, fakat, her dökülen katre-i nurun, Yalnız bir ölüm, bir ebedi matem-i durun Nilüfer-i giryanını, ey mah-ı münevver, Ezhar- ı leyali gibi rüya ile besler. English Translation My Soul Paled with the surrounding desolation, yellow and naked, A dry leaf falling into a pool that is still and dead How silently leaves on the water’s breast its trace. O heap of sad light, O plain of face! As your light flows into my soul asleep peacefully like a lake, It stirs in that still water every distant light flake Into a wrinkle of disaster that will in tremors spread… O ancient moon, O soul infinitely enlightened, As you wrap in these veils the vicinity, As you run, with consolation in your light, to eternity, Only the traces on this deep lake that you burrow, Hide the flowing sobs of a disguised sorrow. Such a lake that on its sky neither harmony nor shade Lend a final boundary to that great solitude Youth and ambition are like a thorn in the grief surrounding, And are like a teardrop disguised in the breeze gently blowing. As a sleep of mirages, of veil and cloud, Of silver and jasmine, fall from you to the ground, On every other water you rise with another beauty, On every other water you are another light, another moon The streams flowing in the forests’ silent embrace Add to their harmony a tired teardrop from your grace. Lakes that kiss your beauty with only lips’ shadow Drift into the sleeping sky hanging in the night with your joy… Shadowy lakes that are paradises for many loves Tremble under you with the beauty of fairy tales.. But in my soul every drop of your light that flows, O enlightened moon, feeds the crying lotus Of a lonely death, of endless distant mourning screams, Like the flowers of the night, with dreams. Sailing to Byzantium I. That is no country for old men. The young In one another’s arms, birds in the trees —Those dying generations—at their song, The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas, Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long Whatever is begotten, born, and dies. Caught in that sensual music all neglect Monuments of unageing intellect. II. An aged man is but a paltry thing, A tattered coat upon a stick, unless Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing For every tatter in its mortal dress, Nor is there singing school but studying Monuments of its own magnificence; And therefore I have sailed the seas and come To the holy city of Byzantium. III. O sages standing in God’s holy fire As in the gold mosaic of a wall, Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre, And be the singing-masters of my soul. Consume my heart away; sick with desire And fastened to a dying animal It knows not what it is; and gather me Into the artifice of eternity. IV. Once out of nature I shall never take My bodily form from any natural thing, But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make Of hammered gold and gold enamelling To keep a drowsy Emperor awake; Or set upon a golden bough to sing To lords and ladies of Byzantium Of what is past, or passing, or to come
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