I Berlin, Germany 2009

One summer night I see a dream – actually I hear a dream. A soprano sings a song cycle with the accompaniment of an orchestra; I hear it very clearly, in detail; I could easily just write it down.

            The cycle has an unconventional form, of its four songs the soprano sings only three. The language of music is something I haven’t been looking at lately – it is openly romantic, but also obtrusive and malicious.

            I quickly draw a diagram of its form. Later I fix the details. It is a clear summer day and outside, in the Charlottenburg park, the chestnuts bloom.

            I can’t comprehend what this dream was about. I’m quite surprised by it.

            A week later the idea of an opera of “Purge” emerges. And immediately I know in detail how this opera will sound.

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