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.