So, Gośka Ipshording, a brilliant harpsichordist, came up with an idea for a piece for herself and the highland band Trebunie-Tutki. Something like a concerto, a bit in the context of Górecki. I wasn’t sure if it could be done, or why exactly I should be the one to try. And I’m still not sure—but I’m in.

 

I listened to Górecki. I listened to Szymanowski. I listened to the Trebunies. I met with Krzysztof, their leader, who told me a bit about what’s what, and what he’d suggest could be done and what probably couldn’t (not much of what I usually try to do). He also played the violin, shepherd’s flutes, and bagpipes. I equipped myself with his handbook The Music of the Tatra Highlands, consisting of a historical section, a theoretical section, and a huge collection of melodies—both sung and played—written down in notes.

 

And now I’m transcribing. Copying kilometers of melodies with an augmented fourth and a lowered seventh. In 2/4 time, in odd 5-bar phrases. In the distinctive idiom of highland fiddling. I’m mixing the mortar from which I’ll mold my own set of building blocks and then construct a tower. Or a city. Or a spaceship.

 

And I once got punched in the face, in my teenage years, by a sturdy highlander who didn’t like the face. I hold no grudge. In fact, I can’t say I blame him.