"I just soaked up the sounds - the [kingdom's] royal singers, the sounds of nature from being up in the Himalayas, the wind, the prayer flags," she said. Some of those sounds are preserved on field recordings - among them 3,000-year-old pre-Buddhist chants - that are heard in juxtaposition to her nine-person instrumental ensemble. Audiences will even hear her out-of-control horse, which insisted on seeking alternative routes while on narrow mountain paths.
The Windhorse apparatus would seem complex, with its stage decorated by Tibet-influenced Maureen Drdak paintings, plus a choreographic element by Group Motion Dance Company. Yet Network musicians were relieved to learn that Tibetan musicians don't believe in tight ensemble coordination, the lack of which creates richer colors of sound - a counterrevolutionary principle Clearfield brought back.
She also returned with exotic instruments for the piece, such as an elaborately carved conch shell designed to call out to the gods - not sweetly but with sounds that reflect what Clearfield describes as "a raw place, an expansive place" where music is inspired by "violent energies of nature."
The "prana" threads of color in Drdak's paintings, referring to bliss-related energy flow, also inspired Clearfield to create a consistent tone - C-sharp - running throughout the 25-minute piece.
"From the Tibetan music I've heard, it sounds right," said conductor Jan Krzywicki, who duets with a Buddhist monk on tape - no great challenge thanks to the clarity and directness of the Clearfield score. The choreographic element, which is abstract rather than ethnic, unfolded with equally organic ease, said Group Motion director Manfred Fischbeck.
