Phthégma
Φθέγμα
Suite for Wind Quintet and String Quartet
Derived from the ancient Greek verb phthéngomai (Φθέγγομαι, meaning ‘to utter, to
shout, to sing’), phthégma (Φθέγμα) refers to the voice, an utterance or discourse. The title
Phthégma was chosen to reflect the suite's focus on sound as an expression. This music is
formed by instinct and emotion. It exists to ‘speak’, not to accompany or underscore, but to
stand as an expression in itself. It is a representation of being, and ineffable utterance of
presence, self and feeling.
The instrumentation was decided based on how wind and string instruments closely
resemble the human voice: the winds through their use of breath, and the strings through their
expressive range and phrasing. This decision further emphasises the suite's purpose.
The suite is best represented by the two-dimensional image (see Figure 1) of a
non-Euclidean hyperdimensional (≥5) object: a cube with a spherical hole, where the sphere
and cube paradoxically enclose one another, existing within and around the other
simultaneously. This impossible spatial metaphor captures the conceptual essence of the work
and its metaphysical intent: translating abstract ideas into music, prompting inspection and
immersion. A seemingly simple representation of something deeply complex.
Figure 1. A cube with a spherical hole encased within.
Author's own illustration.
The Movements
I: Sphaíra
Σφαίρα
ca. 5’21”
1 Flute
1 Oboe
1 Horn in F
1 Clarinet in
B♭
1 Bassoon
Inspired by the atmosphere, this movement utilises a wind quintet to represent the sky.
The word Sphaîra (Σφαῖρα) is the ancient Greek word for “sphere”, while Sphaíra (Σφαίρα),
distinguished by the acute accent instead of the circumflex accent, can carry variations in its
usage. In modern transliterations, both words retain the notion of a sphere or globe, but
nuances in tone and usage differ. Sphaíra (Σφαίρα) was chosen as the title to represent the
spherical nature of Earth, and the ‘celestial’ spherical realm that encapsulates everything in
the sky. Motifs and sounds are circulated and dovetailed in this piece, mirroring the
continuous and unbroken nature of a sphere. The choice of title conveys the idea of structure
and order, where the regularity of movement represents the intentional foundation that
supports the vast expanse of the sky, much like a sphere, literally and metaphysically, serves
as a framework for the cosmos.
II: Schéma
Σχῆμα
ca. 5’15”
1 Flute
1 Oboe
1 Clarinet in
B♭
1 Horn in F
1 Bassoon
2 Violins (I,II)
1 Viola
1 Cello
Schéma (Σχῆμα) is the root word for scheme, is associated with form, shape and
outline. Although presented as the second movement, it was the first to be written, laying the
conceptual and developmental groundwork for the suite's musical language. Various ideas are
introduced and explored throughout, which recur in varied forms across the suite.
The introduction of the string quartet expands the timbral palette, allowing for more
complexity in balance and tones. Irregular time signatures, layered sonorites, and evolving
textures appear more frequently in Schéma, setting this movement apart from the rest, and
distinguishing it as a focal point of development. Rather than disrupting the suite's balance,
Schéma instead offers a dynamic structure, a space where ideas exist and transform, while
providing a contrast between the regularity of the previous movement.
III: Perivállon
Περιβάλλον
ca. 5’24”
1 Flute
1 Oboe
1 Clarinet in
B♭
1 Horn in F
1 Bassoon
2 Violins (I,II)
1 Viola
1 Cello
Perivállon (Περιβάλλον) translates to “environment” or “ambiences”, and comes from
the old Greek verb Perĭbắllō (Περιβάλλω). Formed from Péri (Περί, “around”,
“concerning”, “about”) and Bắllō (Βάλλω, “to throw”, “to place”), Perĭbắllō (Περιβάλλω)
means to surround, to encompass, or to figuratively bestow something (like power) upon a
person. This movement reflects these meanings both structurally and sonically. Rather than
presenting new materials, Perivállon serves as the culmination of the ideas introduced and
developed in Sphaíra and Schéma.
This movement is split into distinctive sections:
Α α
Bar 1
In this section, the string quartet provides a foundation upon which the reintroduced
motifs and motions from Sphaíra can build upon. α acts as a counterpart to the first
movement, continuing from and developing the material established before. The flute, the
most prominent and notable instrument, is used to represent the sky.
Β β
Bar 34
β revisits the developmental process in Schéma. Distinctive ideas presented in the
second movement are woven together, emphasising the contrast from a fluid soundscape to a
more deliberately constructed phase.
Γ γ
Bar 50
Section γ marks the true embodiment of Perivállon, where the ‘environment’ is formed
by the ambiguous sonority of the string quartet. This texture provides an open space where
ideas can surface or dissolve. The concept Ma (間, the meaningful space, interval or pause) is
suggested through the spaces in the string quartet, which holds potential for sound to emerge.
Mushin (無心), being in the state of “no-mind” or detachment, is displayed in this section,
where the environment created becomes the subject, existing as something not acted upon,
but simply being. The hand-drawn Ensō (円相) circle best depicts this section, encapsulating
space, clarity, simplicity and the interconnectedness of all things.
The oboe enters gently within the environment, followed by the flute. These
instruments sound like the Shō and the Shinobue respectively, which are traditional Japanese
instruments commonly used in traditional Japanese music. Used in court music, festivals and
folk songs, their similar timbre to their Japanese counterparts carry a symbolic weight, further
deepening the spiritual resonance and connection of this section.
Δ δ
Bar 82
In δ, the winds withdraw, leaving only the strings to re-establish the environment. The
essence of γ is revisited: the environment is not a setting, but the central subject. Through this
section, the importance of the spaces become more apparent with the increased intensity of
the strings and the gradual filling of space.
Ε ε
Bar 86
The environment changes as the layers of movement intensify, eroding away the space
before. It borders on the edge of chaos, and suddenly dissipates, allowing the final chord to
resound within the restored space.
The final chord (voiced by the winds) mirrors the Jū (i) chord of the Japanese Shō,
whose sound is said to imitate the call of a phoenix. This chord symbolises the cyclical and
transcendent nature of the suite, along with the mimicry of the Shō, which represents balance
and harmony. Due to its fullness, it is placed at the end to signify completion, and allowed to
ring to invite reflection and appreciation, leaving the listener on the border of the
metaphysical realm.
IV: Khōra
Χώρα
𝄐
In Greek numerology, the number four signifies stability, which is a reflection of
concepts like the four elements, four cardinal directions, and the cyclical nature of the four
seasons. The title of fourth movement Khōra (Χώρα) refers to the designated space where
form and beings are able to take place and transform. According to Plato, Khōra is formless
and a non-being, a void which holds potential without a physical form. The absence of music
and sound within this movement embodies the liminal space where form has not emerged.
Stability is uncertain, but the possibility of development is present.
Yet, paradoxically, still space remains stable.
V: Ísos
Ἴσος / Ίσως
~
ca.
1 Flute
1 Oboe
1 Clarinet in
B♭
1 Horn in F
1 Bassoon
2 Violins (I,II)
1 Viola
1 Cello
“Equivalent”, “impartial”, “alike” are some of the definitions of the old Greek adjective
Ἴσος (Ísos). In modern times, the Greek adverb Ίσως (Ísos) mean “maybe” and “perhaps”.
Ísos (the movement) simultaneously embodies both concepts of similarity and uncertainty,
and presents a distinctive and memorable melody, offering some clarity in contrast to the
previous movements. The textures from previous movements are borrowed, maintaining a
sense of familiarity while subtly establishing a connection to the other movements within the
suite.
In relevance to Khōra, Ísos is not a definitive answer, but a suggestion from all the
infinite possibilities that could have emerged. It is not a resolution, but the momentary
crystallisation of a shape that has emerged from the void, aware that it could have been
otherwise. This is represented by the tilde (~), a symbol used to denote approximation and the
presence of variation.
Composer’s Notes
The hyperdimensional object aforementioned can be imagined in four dimensions as it
allows forms to impenetrate and exist in ways impossible in a three dimensional space. It is
here that the fifth dimension (and beyond) offers a more fitting framework: the object is no
longer confined by singular spatial or temporal planes, and may exist in states of
superposition. This allows the ‘cube’ and the ‘sphere’ to exist inside and outside one another
simultaneously within a higher-dimensional logic.
In regards to the untitled Movement VI
In numerology, the number six is considered a perfect number, symbolising harmony
and balance as it equals the sum of its proper divisors (1, 2 and 3). However, it carries an
inherent imperfection and incompleteness, just falling short of seven, the number of sacred
divinity and spiritual enlightenment. This movement attempts to capture this oxymoron: an
imperfect perfection.
It lingers too close to the divine, yet too far from the human grasp, and thus defies any
definition. The absence of a title is an indication for this acknowledgement, and to name it
would be to go against the nature of what it attempts to express.
The terror of the unattainable is expressed within this movement. It is an embodiment
of the beauty, chaos and horror of reaching for something untouchable, unreachable,
unknowable. This is not an ascent into divinity, but rather the beginning of a spiral; the
glimpse into something too vast and too magnificent, yet very terrible. It grapples with the
fundamental truth that we can reach for the divine, but never fully grasp it.
Ultimately, this movement is a recognition and the eventual acceptance of the
incapacity to understand, not through fault, but simply because it is beyond us.
It asks no questions and gives no answers. It only offers presence, almost a consolation,
a comfort.
A mercy within lunacy.