The album NACHTBOEK · QUOTATIONS by VENI ensemble under the direction of Marián Lejava presents two compositions by the ensemble’s artistic director and Slovak composer Daniel Matej: JMF for DM and QUOTATIONS · ROTATIONS · VARIATIONS. The album also includes the composition AVONDBOEK – NACHTBOEK by Dutch composer Piet-Jan van Rossum, which appears as the second track.
VENI 35 serves as a kind of emblematic subtitle for this CD release. This representative selection modestly marks the ensemble’s anniversary. With VENI ensemble and its affiliated VENI ACADEMY, I recall many cherished moments, numerous performers, concerts, and successful recordings. VENI ensemble is a model of a well-managed artistic group, a successful “spiritual child” of Daniel Matej.
The selection opens with a piece seemingly rooted in the tradition established by John Cage and movements such as Dada and Fluxus, as developed in Slovakia around Milan Adamčiak, of which Daniel Matej was an active member. The title JMF for DM subtly reveals the initials of the chorale Jesu meine Freude (which Matej had previously arranged for baroque flute for his daughter Dorka).
The score relies heavily on verbal instructions for performers. The approach to initially pitch-indefinite material—at first nourished by what is for Matej the iconic series Op. 27, later by a diatonic sequence anticipating a final play with a Bach chorale—distantly recalls the Eastern concept of melodic models (maqam, raga), charting a kind of “journey” from chance through Webern to J.S. Bach.
The compositional poetics of Dutch composer Piet-Jan van Rossum, despite generational proximity and a shared teacher (Louis Andriessen), differ radically from those of Daniel Matej in the piano concerto AVONDBOEK – NACHTBOEK. A highly prolific artist active also in literature and film, van Rossum forges in his third piano concerto a peculiar link with the nearly forgotten Russian composer Alexei Stanchinsky, who lived at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries. (Jorge Luis Borges refers to the Kabbalist I. Luria, who called such a connection Ibbur.) Both composers—Stanchinsky and van Rossum—share a deep interest in mysticism. Unlike Matej, van Rossum reveals nothing about his compositional methods, only thoughts accompanying the creative process. Yet these thoughts, along with the chosen instrumentation and archetypal musical metaphors, encourage the listener to reflect on the piece or construct an extramusical narrative. The composer, through his text, almost “invites” the listener to create their own “program” during the musical flow. Could this be an “upgrade” of neo-romanticism? The music moves from an initial gentle sextal motif, through a pleasant polymodal landscape evoking the emotion of discovering a new territory, with bells and chimes heralding each new sonic village.
The sound of isolated, sea-soaked wooden sticks foreshadows the piece’s conclusion near the end of its first third. In the second third, we traverse the same terrain, but now less surprised. The “traditionalist” solo piano climbs the golden ratio’s peak accompanied by a modest ensemble, then rolls back down to the soaked sticks. The pianist transitions from the keyboard to the strings inside the piano. Alexei Stanchinsky drowned; Piet-Jan van Rossum narrates his tragic story with a compelling coda.
An excellent performance by soloist Ivan Šiller, supported by the equally outstanding VENI ensemble and conductor Marián Lejava, adds a natural “value bonus” to the interpretation of the final composition on the CD. I find Daniel Matej’s QUOTATIONS · ROTATIONS · VARIATIONS remarkably poetic. As the composer himself states, he was fortunate to have had an unusually long time to work on it, resulting in a richly structured piece. The first part presents an emotional contrast: a coldly pulsating, broadly constructed surface gives way to the “Feldman-esque” tenderness of the second section, woven with a “contact” game between a Webern-like 12-tone series and diatonic movements.
The second part intensifies contrasts on smaller scales. It announces itself with repeated, insistently tender diatonic piano clusters that serve as a kind of “theme.” Punctual aleatoric runs alternate with chorale-like textures reminiscent of Schönberg’s “melody of timbres” or perhaps a kind of virtual keyboard instrument.
The third part enters attacca, closing the arc with a more global approach to variation in relation to the first part. It’s also beautiful for its humorous handling of references. In the case of Egon Bondy, only a “Czechoslovak” listener will fully grasp the subtle humor. A recording of the philosopher’s voice initially sounds like a duduk or shofar—only through repetition does its identity become clear. The song Hřbitove, hřbitove zahrado zelená (Cemetery, Cemetery, Green Garden), a legend of the Czechoslovak underground, performed with the “arty” accompaniment of VENI ensemble, seems to ironically reference pop stars’ orchestral concerts. It stands as an immensely powerful caricature of a contemporary trend—a beautiful closure to the CD NACHTBOEK · QUOTATIONS.
Juraj Vajó
