For some two to three years I'd had the idea in my mind of a choral work in which the only accompaniment would be from the sound of tubular bells. The latter, in my mind, were both an ordinary set of orchestral tubular bells being played 'live' and a wide-range MIDI keyboard using a quality sampled sound of tubular bells, in which the sound could be played over the full range of a concert grand piano. As probably most concert halls these days have loudspeaker systems that could reproduce with sufficient volume and low frequencies, the work should thus not be thought of as unrealizable except as computer-generated simulations, but indeed as a fully performable work, simply requiring a suitable MIDI keyboard, possibly with a selected sound module or sampler attached, connected to the concert hall's quality loudspeaker system. Unusually for me, I envisaged the work as being entirely atonal, but with the harmonics of the bells ensuring that the music still sounded harmonious; the choir would have simple chant lines which would float among the bell sounds, and, without anything much of harmony or counterpoint, it would have no opportunity for the atonality to bring about any great discordancy. I was holding back on composing this work because I was waiting to find a particular type of rarefied mystical text to use for the choir's parts - probably something of similar character to that used in my Meditation on the Clear Light.
In the event I have not realized that original intention in the present work, but rather, I have drawn from it. Early in 2001 a local friend made me aware of the Gayatri mantra, much used in Hinduism, and kindly supplied me with some notes about it. Previously I had been familiar only with mantras used in Tibetan Buddhism. I felt at once an energy about the Gayatri mantra which told me that I was to use it in one or more of my compositions, and this is my first experiment with it. As with my previous mantra-based works, I use this mantra as a vehicle for opening the mind to universal truth, awareness, love and compassion, which is not the sole property of any one religion or spiritual path. This work is therefore one of universal beauty, love and understanding, and is not a partisan religious statement. In my mind the mantra connected at once with certain pictures in a book that I have of trekking routes in the Nepal Himalaya. Gosainkund, which is regarded as a holy place in Hinduism, is a high corrie (4,310 metres above sea level) with small lakes, in the foothills of the Jugal Himal, part of the Nepal Himalaya. It lies on a recognised trekking route passing through the Jugal and Langtang Himal areas, and thus is visited by trekkers and pilgrims alike, particularly at the time of a summer festival.
As I started composing the work I
abandoned the 'live'
set of tubular bells, just keeping the extended-range MIDI tubular bell
sounds. Although there is a certain atonality in places, overall it is
modal and not an atonal work. In a few places a dodecaphonic tone row
appears, but it is used just as a strangely ethereal passing comment
and never becomes a significant part of the overall musical structure.
The choir's parts are mostly in (a) the whole tone scale, (b) a serious
mode which still feels quite connected to the former, and (c) a 'free
atonal' section, which doesn't altogether dismiss tonal centres. In
(b), I found that when the choir parts were put together canonically a
considerable emotional intensity resulted, which seemed to reflect
something of the sadness and anguish that many were feeling over the
events in Nepal that occurred as I started upon this work, and which
seemed to be pointing towards darker times ahead for the people of that
beautiful and inspiring country. By contrast, the whole tone scale and
more atonal passages give a rarefied and impersonal effect which for me
befits the pilgrimage up into the mountains to that beautiful and wild
place, Gosainkund.
As with my Symphonies 7 to 9, I have a
strong feeling
of there being a very deep and ancient source for this music within my
consciousness, so only in the most superficial terms could this work be
said to relate to Gosainkund or indeed Hinduism.
As for this work's standing as a symphony,
I
acknowledge that many people would insist that it isn't a symphony
because it isn't even orchestral. However, it does actually fit into
the special category of symphonies which I initiated with my 7th
Symphony. True, it has no orchestra, but actually the presence of an
orchestra is not an intrinsic part of the definition of a symphony.
Indeed, some works for solo organ and even piano have been called
symphonies.
The first passage for the choir is simply a repetition of the first syllable of the mantra - om. The second passage uses just the first line of the mantra, and it isn't till the third choral passage - when the mode (b) arrives - that the entire mantra is used.
The Gayatri Mantra
Om. bhur bhuvah suvahah
Tat Savitur varenyam
Bhargo devasya dhimahi
Dhi yo yo nah prachodayat
(Note that in this work 'suvahah' is pronounced 'swahah'; elsewhere you may find it pronounced even as 'svah' or 'swah'.)