The wall proved to be tough. I beat my head against it for most of the week, it only started to crumble towards the end, and yesterday it finally gave way and let me go further. I have the text for scene IV, but also my idea for the next scene, which is to be the finale of act one, is taking a more vivid shape. In scene IV, two illustrators enter into a certain kind of interaction. A bit abstract, focusing the the qualities of several characters and novel plots in themselves. A conflict arises here; on the one hand, it does not take place in this form in the book, but in fact it is one of the cruxes of the entire story. (Because there are a few cruxes in there). 

And in scene V, the finale of act 1, a truly momentous event happens. Death. In the novel, it is (more than once) the result of a confluence of complex circumstances presented in multiple plots that will not be present in the libretto. They won’t fit ; they would only obscure the entire image. I was waiting for an idea, an enlightenment, on how to justify this death, who to entrust with inflicting it (there is some room for manoeuvre here, as for most of the novel this death and others too are shrouded in mystery) and so on. I have waited and I got there, I know, and I feel a certain relief and satisfaction about it. These feelings are deceptive at this stage, but I’m temporarily indulging in them.

I can already say something about the music, but I won’t say too much. The type of instrumental ensemble is no small challenge. I have become accustomed and attached to a classical string base that is not very extensive, and yet it is both homogeneous and flexible in timbre, articulation and dynamics. And here I have a completely different animal to tame (violins, gambas and double basses). A heterogeneous, erratic and capricious animal. But it has its own individual, somewhat exotic character. It is full of contradictions that can sometimes be reconciled. Or tamed, in a way. I can say that about the entire instrumental group, by the way. It resembles a collection of random instruments at a market. In fact, this was to some extent the art of instrumentation in the 17th century – whoever came along and had a working instrument, they played. And somehow it worked out nicely.

And now to Bad Muskau for a bit. I’m curious about Leśmian, I remember it as if through a haze. Just like it is in the case of the Tale, which is also already on the horizon.

(transl. Magdalena Małek-Andrzejowska)