Text.

Literally an hour after I published my previous post last Sunday, I received the libretto from Szczepan. I had been waiting for it for quite a long time, but there it is. The week was therefore marked by reading the text and planning the piece. I have the impression that I already see Pokora (humility) in its entirety. Of course, this is an illusion which then, with every day of working on the score, painfully evaporates, but it is nevertheless there, just more or less visible at times. Here it is vividly clear. I seem to feel the entire form. In fact, I have the impression that Szczepan himself feels the music form more and more fully. The phrase and the narrative. Or perhaps, he may have felt it from the very beginning, only with time he became more familiar with it and grew comfortable with it. In any case, I think we have managed to build some kind of mutual understanding here. We are writing chapter/act three of the trilogy. I feel it will be a coherent closure.


A duo this time: She and Him, and nothing more. Nothing that would have an embodied representation and a voice of its own. The characters – if anyone has read Pokora, they would not be surprised – are Agnes and Alojs. Their story is a particular one, like many other, although this type of relationship has not necessarily been, nor still is, readily presented. Quite the opposite, I’d say. It is a love story, but far be it from a simple romance. I strongly believe it is also an allegory, but I won’t say an allegory of what – maybe later, or maybe it doesn’t need to be explained at all.


While reading the text, and thinking also of Drach and of Siren, I can see an entire network of analogies and connections. Not only between these texts, but also between them and the world. Between common history and my own history. Between what is today, and what was a year ago, a hundred years ago, and a thousand years ago. This is probably a trick of the mind, whose nature tells it to build such networks; its survival strategy, thanks to which thirty thousand years or more ago more we found our way to the berry fields and back home. But even if they are largely illusions, they are very handy.


I am preparing for a sprint. In difficult conditions, perhaps not in optimum shape, sleep-deprived and non-satiated, if you will. But it will be a sprint that is due to finish a much, much longer distance. The run had started long, long ago.


(transl. Magdalena Małek-Andrzejowska)