The place where everyone waits

The Place Where Everyone Waits was composed in the week after my former piano teacher Csáky Katalin suddenly died. Its music emerged with unusual immediacy and physical intensity: I played and sang at the piano, shouted the fortissimo passages and stamped the rhythms with my feet. Looking back, I recognise in the work the rawness, power and purpose I had long been seeking.

The following programme note appeared in the first version of the score:

The following program note (story of the piece) may serve only as a guideline to the performance of this piece. It’s not compulsory but can be of inspiration to the musicians/conductor and even audience. The letters between brackets represent the rehearsal marks presented in the full score.

The Place Where Everyone Waits became my musical imagination of the transition between life and death. The moment a person realizes his life is going to be over. The only thing to do is to wait, because no one knows what’s next. The helplessness, the memories, the last sensations, the struggle and/or acceptance are just some of the elements that run through the mind.

The composition starts with the introduction of the main chord/cluster. Suddenly this sound starts crushing you. Its weight almost unbearable. [A] At the same moment, a melody appears, trying to reassure you that everything is ok. But… it’s hard to believe. [B] We get to a Perpetuum mobile, which gives us some tranquility and the time to understand our current situation. [C] Out of nowhere a huge power, our will to live kicks in. It screams. It tries to reverse everything, but the Perpetuum mobile element [D] is always coming back. [E] After this struggle, the Perpetuum mobile element turns into this macabre feeling represented by the pizzicato’s, the col legno passages, and the “flatterzunge”. [F] And again, unexpectedly, our “will to live” tries one last time, with everything it has got, to get us back, to keep us alive. But, alas, al in vain.

[H] A new element, a new melody appears. This melody, however, is quite different than the ones before. It’s alive. It says something. It’s fascinating and inviting. After its introduction, it starts leading us somewhere. [I] Strongly grabbing the attention and not letting loose, forcing us to concentrate and follow it around. [K] After this fast passage, we arrive at the sound of strings playing the same chord/cluster from the beginning of the composition. It feels familiar and sounds much more soothing than the first time. [L] The strings fade away, and we only hear solo instruments playing the melody of the beginning of the piece accompanied by the bass drum. The melody is leading us further, deeper into nowhere. [M] We arrive at a state of numbness. Nothing moves, only the beat of the bass drum and timpani. Is this the end? Is it over? [N] No, unfortunately not yet… And again, the fear kicks in. You feel it will crush you. It’s inevitable. You just have to accept it. You can’t fight it anymore.

[O] Once you accept this, the lively melody of the middle part of the piece comes back, but in a more familiar way, accompanied by chords that make you feel alive again. What beauty. Oh, the end is beautiful! … [P] Instruments fade away, and only the horns play a perfect ending to a Bach choral… The perfect way to end one’s journey… Only the last chord is not coming… One horn, playing the perfect note, waiting for the others to join him in harmony… it’s just not happening.

[Q] And from below, the chord/cluster of the beginning of the movement sneaks in. You hear the last bit of air leaving your body. And, snap...