Dzehennem (Hell)
(2003) 17’30’’
pno, perc (1)
(Percussion: 2 hanging cymbals, 2 loose
cymbals, tam-tam, 4 bongos, 2 congas, 2 tom toms, 2 timpani
(30”, 25”), gran Cassa, kickdrum;
sticks, beaters, rubber balls, bow, net, whip)
written for: De Watertoren
first performance: Broek-op-Langedijk, The
Netherlands, jan. 2004
Based on god’s destruction of the Ben Hinnom valley
(Jeremia 7)
Commissioned by the Fonds voor de Scheppende Toonkunst
"Dzehennem shook the foundations of the church. It was an
unforgettable experience for everybody present"
- Dominee Jan Andries de Boer
This piece was conceived to be a part of a service on the
subject of hell, to be given by Dominee Jan Andries de
Boer. The fragment from Jeremia, 7, about the destruction
of the people of Ben Hinnom, captures in brief the
unimaginable atrocity of a hell created by god, whose wrath
demanded the annihilation of an entire people (who engaged
in needless sacrifice of their own sons and daughters in
the name of the almighty).
The music is a literal translation into sound of the old
testament’s text. It starts with the cutting off of
the hair and its throwing away. This gesture of grief
introduces the lamento in the piano, which determines the
first half of the piece: a bleak and desolate landscape,
filled with dead bodies as far as the eye can see, in which
a last survivor gazes in unbelief at the tragedy that came
from the heavens. This lamento represents the sorrow of god
at the foolishness of the people of Ben Hinnom. The bowed
timpani imitate the metaphysical wails of the fallen and
their souls tortured in hell.
After a brief bridge, in which god appeals to humanity and
mourns the senselessness of human sacrifice (measures 46 -
67), the full scale of god’s wrath hits the Ben
Hinnom valley and kills every living soul in it. This is
represented by the solo percussion. The distance between
the tam-tam (played with a whip) and the rest of the
percussion setup symbolizes god’s reach unto earth;
the initially short bursts of violence on the drums develop
the melodical shreds of the lamento in their earthly
manifestation. The absence of a rhythmical flow and the
abrupt breaking off of each musical gesture carry the
cruelness of untimely death, which reaches its own
transcendence at the very end of the piece, where hell has
moved into a metaphysical realm of endless and senseless
destruction.
The piece thus tries to tell the story of the valley of Ben
Hinnom from the perspective of god, which in true
old-testamentary fashion appears not as the benign almighty
power of love and forgiveness, which Christians know from
the teachings of Christ, but rather as its precise
opposite, a vengeful and merciless Lord of hell.
Etymologically, it is interesting to note that the name of
the valley of Ben Hinnom, or Gen-ben Hinnom, and the
occurrances there, became a symbol of ultimate hell in its
later form Gehenna; the general Muslim word for hell is
Dzehennem up to this date - hence the title of this piece.
I loved this commission. It is no secret I'm really not a
Christian, but when Jan Andries, brother of pianist Laurens
de Boer, explained what kind of piece I was supposed to
write, it all made sense. The premiere was indeed an
incomparable experience:
We'd spent the previous night drinking, Jan Andries being
also a drummer with a serious music collection, and a
dominee with a very unconventional approach to spreading
the word of Christ, often accompanied by rather heavy
music. At ten in the morning on sunday, the service starts
(it had been decades that I'd attended a mass...) and the
first thing the dominee does is blow out the big candle in
front of the altar. The church was filled with village
folk, not necessarily your typical experimental music
audience. Laurens and Martijn Krijnen played the piece
beautifully, but with a level of violence unheard of in a
mass. The ending comes - 17 brutal piano clusters topped
with
ffff-hits on gran cassa, tam-tam and kick
drum simultaneously by the percussion. Martijn put so much
into it that he managed to break both the gran Cassa mallet
(which cannoned straight into the congregation) and the
kick drum pedal, and knock over the tam-tam with the whip,
all right at the first hit. The image of those two guys
channeling the wrath of god into this cute little Dutch
village church, while the reverend tried to put the tam-tam
back on its feet, and the audience watching this scene of
mayhem in complete consternation, is something I will never
forget. To my great surprise, it turned out that people
loved it. Maybe there is a future for me in sacred music
after all...
listen: Dzehennem clip