Evis Sammoutis: In darkness

John Dowland (1563–1626) is a composer whose works I have played on both the guitar and the lute since I was nine years old. »In darkness let me dwell« is one of the pieces that has always resonated with me the most. It essentially deals with sadness, melancholy, and depression, and fittingly ends with an imperfect cadence, leaving everything unresolved. It is a piece of harmonic instability and great beauty. I am not the only composer to have been inspired by this monumental work. Thomas Adès’ »Darknesse Visible,« composed in 1992, is a more recent example. However, in my work, the musical connection to Dowland serves more as a foundation to be further developed, rather than the focal point. I use the same text as Dowland, but I keep the connection to the original musical mannerisms of the Renaissance largely hidden until the end of the piece.

 

This is the text used in both pieces:

 

In darkness let me dwell, the ground shall sorrow be,
The roof despair to bar all cheerful light from me,
The walls of marble black that moistened still shall weep,
My music hellish jarring sounds to banish friendly sleep:
Thus wedded to my woes, and bedded [in] my tomb
[O let me dying live till death doth come].

 

When I received the commission to compose a new work for the Neue Vocalsolisten and Gareth Davis, focusing on Parkinson’s disease and its consequences, I immediately thought of this piece by Dowland. Over the following weeks and during my initial sketches, it became increasingly clear to me why this song intuitively came to mind. For me, it embodies everything that defines the human experience: beauty and decay, life and death, the exhilaration of musical subtlety, and the deep sorrow conveyed by the text.

 

I have family members and friends who have or had Parkinson’s, so I am familiar with the disease’s effects firsthand, both physically and psychologically. As a close friend explained to me, this disease can feel like living in a prison or mausoleum, with one’s mind trapped in a body that no longer responds as it once did. However, singing is an activity that can actually help delay some of the effects of this disease. This is symbolised in the interplay of pitch and volume, with the pitch becoming increasingly breathy and rough as the piece progresses.

 

In my piece, I use physiological metaphors, such as the one mentioned, to alter the sound profile of the ensemble and explore the relationship between the clarinetist and the singers by shifting textual hierarchies and reversing roles. Additionally, I deconstruct Dowland’s score and reassemble it, oscillating between new material and the original song. With the instrumentation for bass clarinet and five voices, I can approach this material from a new perspective, as it is far removed from the timbres of the original lute and vocal arrangement.

 

Moreover, my work also deals with the decay and complexity of material over time, as the vocal timbres shift from fragile sounds to a more confident and assured expression, such as »herd calls« and, naturally, the reproduction of the original Dowland material in a newly arranged »chorus version.« Additionally, the singers play various small handheld objects, through which I represent the transitions between control and loss of control (regular pulse versus »shrill« sounds), both in sound and visual gesture. Some of these objects are ordinary household items, including whistles, while others are actual instruments (kalimba, harmonica).

 

From my personal experience, the psychological impact of this disease is unbearable, marked by feelings of helplessness and deep sadness; however, in my piece, defiance and courage are equally important, and I aim to explore these themes and their connections. My approach in this work stems from a sense of empathy for this terrible disease and its effects on patients and their families, and in this sense, it is one of my most personal and reflective works to date.

(Evis Sammoutis)