Off I went. I’ve got the beginning, and it will most probably stay this way. Three explosions of a chord, composed of B major and C-sharp minor, divided by a perfect fifth/tritone space:
...and three slightly altered (in terms of placement of the sixteenth-note) versions of the motif that I mentioned last time, as an introduction to the first appearance of the singing.
Threefoldness intersperses everything. Three is important in "The Mask”. “On the evening of the third day I finally set about discovering who I was”, “on the third day the sun came up”, “it was the third in my series of beginnings”, “I ran three times around the room” – three alternative identities-childhood beings in the memory of the girl-machine. It is common knowledge that different meanings of the number three permeate the entire culture throughout. Religion, arts, folk wisdom. It seems to me that Lem encodes something using threes, but I can't find the key to that code. I don't need to. That vague impression is enough. Threes set the pace to my music evolution very often, actually. Exposition, development, both at the motif level and at the level of the entire form, are most attractive for me in a threefold view. If something appears once, it does not seem important. It might matter, but it might not; it does not require continuation. There is no intertia. It allows for tension-free contemplation. If something appears twice, that second time has more weight. It does not escape attention. But it gives simple possibilities: to stop, to close a symmetric form, or to continue by repetition. Inhale – exhale. Day – night. Spring/summer – autumn/winter. If something appears thrice, it is a momentous event. Asymmetrical, left un-closed, requiring a special justification. There is no obvious way to continue, but the lack of continuation is like a black hole. I would say that existence in itself is dual in nature, while birth and development take that dynamic of threefoldness.
I’m also thinking about a form of the medieval Estampie dance. Archaic. Instrumental or vocal-instrumental. Accompanying the games of the upper classes. Lively, a bit wild, lined with eroticism, in triple metre. It will show up here for sure.
(transl. Magdalena Małek-Andrzejowska)