Dominic Ellis is a prolific young composer with an already impressive a grasp on the craft of composition in the most creative of ways. His Johannes, der Junger, den Jesus Liebhatte uses the smallest of musical inputs to spin out a variety of effects in a piece that, while short, can be approached and appreciated on a number of levels.
What inspired your piece?
This piece was inspired by a research kick I had over the summer into the hypothesis that the biblical Christ was a gay man. A proponent of this idea, Christopher Monterfiore, went so far as to suggest Jesus was in a homosexual, romantic relationship with John the Evangelist, for whom the piece is named.
How did this inspiration influence the composing process for you?
The piece takes the notes from the first phrase of Contrapunctus IX from J.S. Bach’s Kunst der Fuge, elongates them, and stretches them out over the duration of the piece. Every note in the soprano saxophone is taken from this melody; the marimba, guitar and piano parts were written to provide support and harmonic context for the sax. The idea of a piece that is constantly moving, rhythmically driving and very, very quiet was inspired by the secrecy and shame surrounding the possibility of a gay Christ, and the use of a J.S. Bach fugue as melodic content is an idea that I ripped from Nina Young, who used it in her string quartet, Memento Mori. I took some delight in the fact that the evangelist and Bach were both named Johannes.
What are some things about the piece that the audience should notice that aren’t immediately salient during the performance?
Despite being very pleasant-sounding on the surface, this piece is extraordinarily difficult. I wrote it in a single day (which is very far removed from my usual composing process!) using a lot of copy and paste. Because of this, there is a lot of rhythmic hocketing and canons – each performer playing the same part, but separated by an eighth note. The piece is always just on the verge of falling apart, and the fact that Slipstream makes it sound so effortless and clean speaks well to their amazing talent and cohesion as an ensemble.
What inspired your piece?
This piece was inspired by a research kick I had over the summer into the hypothesis that the biblical Christ was a gay man. A proponent of this idea, Christopher Monterfiore, went so far as to suggest Jesus was in a homosexual, romantic relationship with John the Evangelist, for whom the piece is named.
How did this inspiration influence the composing process for you?
The piece takes the notes from the first phrase of Contrapunctus IX from J.S. Bach’s Kunst der Fuge, elongates them, and stretches them out over the duration of the piece. Every note in the soprano saxophone is taken from this melody; the marimba, guitar and piano parts were written to provide support and harmonic context for the sax. The idea of a piece that is constantly moving, rhythmically driving and very, very quiet was inspired by the secrecy and shame surrounding the possibility of a gay Christ, and the use of a J.S. Bach fugue as melodic content is an idea that I ripped from Nina Young, who used it in her string quartet, Memento Mori. I took some delight in the fact that the evangelist and Bach were both named Johannes.
What are some things about the piece that the audience should notice that aren’t immediately salient during the performance?
Despite being very pleasant-sounding on the surface, this piece is extraordinarily difficult. I wrote it in a single day (which is very far removed from my usual composing process!) using a lot of copy and paste. Because of this, there is a lot of rhythmic hocketing and canons – each performer playing the same part, but separated by an eighth note. The piece is always just on the verge of falling apart, and the fact that Slipstream makes it sound so effortless and clean speaks well to their amazing talent and cohesion as an ensemble.