No sheet music files available for this piece.

In Memory of a Winter Sunset, op. 8
Subtitle: Four fragments to poems by Pál Gulyás, for soprano, violin and cimbalom, in Hungarian
Dedication: Alice Németh
Premiere location: Debrecen
Premiere date: 1969.05.18.
Premiere performers: Alice Németh (soprano); Judit Hevesi (violin); Márta Fábián (cimbalom)
Lyricist name: Gulyás Pál
Language: Hungarian
Composition end date: 1969.04.25
Genre: Chamber Music with Voice
Instrumentation: soprano, violin, cimbalom
Duration (minutes): 6
Year of publication: 1974
Publisher: Universal Edition/Editio Musica Budapest
Publication number: UE 15907

1. Now the hours bring forth her shape
2. I waited for you but only twilight came
3. How many roads there are, oh how many roads!
4. God be with you!

1.
Now the hours bring forth her shape:
her deep eyes now from the earth ascend,
her visage now from the clouds descends.
Now do these two gleam as one,
thus the void is bound and spun.
She lives not, as yet, is an orphan still,
has no name, only eternal peace will
keep her aloft, the memory of the earth.

2.
I waited for you but only twilight came.
In the twilight snow began to fall.
The clock pendulum spawned sorrow.
The snow covered every road and furrow.

3.
How many roads there are, oh how many roads!
How they run, criss-crossing each other!
And behind every road the shadow of a grave.
Clasp your hands together and pray.

4.
God be with you! A vortex whirls you away,
the blood has its pilgrimage to make.
Go, wander! The cruel moment whirls you away.
In the blue hills we'll meet again one day.

Poems by Pál Gulyás
Translations by Peter Sherwood

No sheet music files available for this piece.

The song cycle, written for a unique ensemble – soprano, violin, and cimbalom – was composed to mark the 25th anniversary of the death of the poet Pál Gulyás (1899–1944), who died at a young age during World War II, and was premiered in Debrecen in 1969 as part of the celebrations in his memory. Performed at its premiere under the title “Four Fragments,” this cycle – barely six minutes long – is a distillation of Kurtág’s musical world. In its microcosm, it appears to serve as a counterpoint to the preceding monumental piece, “The Sayings of Péter Bornemisza, op. 7”

No sheet music files available for this piece.

To the best of our knowledge, no critical review was written about the work’s premiere.

___________________

Reviews of the Budapest premiere

Előd Juhász's review
(Magyar Zene, September 1969)

Kurtág’s latest work, for soprano, violin, and cimbalom, was inspired by Pál Gulyás’s poem “In Memory of a Winter Sunset.” The greatest virtue of the composition is its materiality and concentration. In Kurtág’s previous works, we have already admired his perfectly matured use of instruments, virtuosic technique, puritanical selectivity in color combinations, and confidence in his use of instruments. All this is accompanied by a remarkable handling of the vocal part and even compared to the “Bornemisza Cantata” premiered in autumn 1968, a clear differentiation is evident – or, if the term were not overused, I would say: development. It is undeniable that Webern’s style – familiar to Kurtág – is present in this composition, especially in its puritanism and conciseness, and in the fact that every note is placed according to strict order, with no trace of randomness even in the smallest detail. Here, every gesture has the impact of a real experience. The intensity of expression in Kurtág is never forced; perhaps nowhere have I felt it as direct and natural as in the Four Fragments. The music flows irresistibly; with its sincerity, fiery passion, and confessional tone, it draws you in, compelling you to breathe together and experience the synchronicity of emotions. Yes, this is poetry – pure and noble poetry – which is so rarely found in compositions created today. All this is achieved through an astonishing balance of form, sound, and expression, with classical refinement. Yet this seems almost unimportant, for the essence lies in the independent voice of the composer – one that is unmistakably the voice of our age, finding a path for those who yearn to discover beauty in music. What else, and what more, could be said about what is perhaps the most valuable new development in Hungarian chamber music in the past few months, if not years?

(Magyar Zene 10 (1969)/3, 336–337.)

___________________

András Pernye's review
(Magyar Nemzet,  October 14, 1969)

The audience listened to György Kurtág’s new work, Op. 8: “In Memory of a Winter Sunset.” This song cycle, set to poems by Pál Gulyás, is a distilled synthesis of Kurtág’s achievements so far. The poetry is terse and direct, without asceticism, accompanied by freely flowing and continuous musical material that skillfully blends melodic and recitative elements, the delicate beauty of chamber music, and the fully musical techniques of tone painting. It is as if we are hearing the four substantial stanzas of a single song; the four songs in the cycle are so unified and inseparable, yet each is, in itself, a distinct character and a world of its own. –

(Magyar Nemzet 25 [1969]/239, 6.)

No sheet music files available for this piece.