I dedicated this work to my friend and colleague Eladio Aguilar, a talentuous conductor and composer with whom I shared my last 2 years and half in Tallinn. Few months ago he decided to put all of his energy in a super ambitious project that today will see the light for the first time: a concert with a brand new ensemble and 7 premieres from young composers. If you wanna know more about the project, read his recent interview.
After a lazy period of resting, which I dedicated to my wellness, I thought this was the right occasion to restart and hommage my friend and this beautiful ensemble with a new work.
As many composers who visit Estonia, I am part of this large group of people that got stunned by its nature. There is something mystic and enchanting about this land that changes your soul. Living here changed my perspectives, my sensitivity, and I became more fascinated by the little things that surround me.
In one of my walks, during winter time, I came up with the idea for this new piece. This is a thought that I had that time:
Lights and matter are two very different things. In a certain sense we could also define them as opposites: on a metaphorical side, light is warmth, hope, spirit; matter is arid, often cold and inanimate.
The interactions between these two elements offer us the world we live in. We can enjoy nature thanks to the light and in some ways the opposite is also true. The Estonian winter seems to be the confirmation of this last statement. A dead landscape, covered with snow and windswept, takes on a completely different aspect when illuminated by sunshine.
The title is a wordplay. In Estonian “lumi” means snow but it is also the word for “lights” in Italian; in Italian “neve” means snow.
When you live in a country where you have only few hours of dim light in winter, you start to see the Sun and lights as a holy figure. Let’s enjoy the light together!