Masterpiece of Ritual Fire
Iyona by Philemon Mukarno
A Ritual of Transformation
In the vast landscape of contemporary classical music, certain works stand as monuments. They do not merely exist; they demand to be heard. Iyona by Philemon Mukarno is one such monument. Scored for a unique quintet of bass clarinet, percussion, celesta, harp, and cello, this twenty-minute composition is a journey into the heart of sound itself.
From the first measure, the listener is aware that this is not background music. It is a ritual. Mukarno, a composer known for his uncompromising vision, constructs a world where instruments are not just tools, but characters in a drama. The music shifts from dark, subterranean rumbles to blinding flashes of light. It is a transformation of energy, moving from the earthly to the ethereal, and finally, to the explosive.
The Confidence of a Visionary
Critics have hailed Iyona as the work of a composer at the height of his powers. Writing for the NRC Handelsblad, Ernst Vermeulen described the piece as representing “the pinnacle of a composer who is highly confident in his vision.” This confidence is audible in every bar. There is no hesitation here, no tentative exploration. Mukarno knows exactly where he is going, and he drags the listener along with him.
This assurance allows him to build structures of immense complexity. The music is often dense, layered with conflicting rhythms and textures. Yet, it never feels chaotic. There is a “masterful construction” underneath the noise, a rigorous logic that holds the piece together. It is the confidence of an architect who knows that the building will stand, no matter how high the tower reaches.
The Xenakis Connection
The complexity of Iyona has drawn comparisons to the legendary Greek composer Iannis Xenakis. Like Xenakis, Mukarno treats sound as a physical force. The music has a tactile quality; you can feel the pressure of the air and the vibration of the strings. It is “intense Xenakis-like complexity,” as Vermeulen notes, but with a distinct Mukarno twist.
Where Xenakis often looked to mathematics and architecture for inspiration, Mukarno looks to the ritual. The complexity in Iyona is not mathematical for its own sake. It is designed to “entrain the listener.” It creates a trance-like state, a sense of being caught in a current that is too strong to swim against. The density of the music forces the mind to let go, to surrender to the sheer volume of information.
The Dance of the Low Voices
The ritual begins in the deep. The piece opens with a duet between the bass clarinet and the cello. These two instruments, the giants of the ensemble, intertwine like roots in the dark earth. Their timbres are similar enough to blend, yet distinct enough to create friction. The woodwind growl of the clarinet rubs against the gut-string grit of the cello.
This opening section sets the stakes. It is serious, grounded, and heavy. Mukarno explores the lowest registers of the instruments, pushing them to their limits. It sounds like the earth breathing. This “intertwining” is not a polite conversation; it is a wrestling match. The two voices struggle for dominance, pushing and pulling against each other until they fuse into a single, dark entity.
A Gamelan of Glass and Wire
Then, a transformation occurs. The darkness is pierced by light. The harp and celesta enter the fray. In the hands of a lesser composer, these instruments might be used for angelic, sugary effects. Mukarno, however, has different plans. He treats them percussively.
He transforms this delicate duo into a “Gamelan-like spectacle.” The sharp attack of the harp and the bell-like resonance of the celesta mimic the metallophones of the Indonesian Gamelan orchestra. This is a brilliant act of sonic alchemy. Suddenly, we are transported from the dark earth to a shimmering, metallic landscape. The rhythms become cyclical, hypnotic, and driving. It is a nod to Mukarno’s heritage, but reimagined through the lens of Western avant-garde technique.
The Electrifying Discourse
As the piece progresses, the separate groups merge. The low voices of the cello and clarinet collide with the high percussion of the harp and celesta. The result is an “electrifying discourse.” The ensemble, though small, sounds massive. Mukarno uses the full frequency spectrum, filling the room with a wall of sound.
The textures become thicker. The rhythms become more urgent. The music feels like a machine that is spinning faster and faster. Yet, amidst this density, there is always clarity. Mukarno’s “economy of means” ensures that every note has a purpose. There is no wasted motion. Every player is essential to the forward momentum of the ritual.
The Role of the Percussion
Anchoring this storm is the percussionist. In Iyona, the percussion is not just rhythmic support; it is the heartbeat of the beast. The percussionist moves between instruments, changing the color of the ensemble with every strike. From the deep thud of drums to the shimmer of cymbals, the percussion dictates the emotional temperature of the piece.
In the Gamelan-inspired sections, the percussion locks in with the harp and celesta, creating a complex rhythmic grid. In the darker sections, it rumbles underneath the cello and clarinet, adding a sense of foreboding. It is the glue that binds the disparate elements of the quintet together, ensuring that the “discourse” remains coherent even at its most chaotic.
The High-Pitched Wringing
The climax of Iyona is a moment of pure, visceral intensity. The finale features the bass clarinet and cello in a state of “high-pitched wringing.” They leave the comfort of their low registers and climb into the stratosphere. Here, they scream.
This sound is uncomfortable, raw, and undeniably powerful. It represents the breaking point of the ritual. The instruments are pushed beyond their natural limits, straining to reach a state of transcendence. It is the sound of metal under stress, of wood about to snap. Mukarno refuses to give the audience an easy resolution. He forces us to confront this tension, to live inside the scream.
Driven by Tubular Bells
Driving this high-pitched agony are the tubular bells. These massive chimes toll like bells of judgment. They cut through the texture with a cold, metallic clarity. Their resonance is overwhelming.
The combination of the screaming strings/winds and the tolling bells creates a “captivating ritual” atmosphere. It feels ancient, like a ceremony whose meaning has been lost but whose power remains. The bells mark time, but it is not human time. It is geological time, slow and inevitable. They signal that the end is near, that the transformation is almost complete.
The Fiery Steel Drums
Just when the tension seems unbearable, the piece culminates in an explosion of “fiery steel drums.” This is the release. The steel drums, with their unique, resonant timbre, bring a sudden burst of energy and color. It is a surprising, brilliant conclusion.
The fire is not destructive; it is purifying. The steel drums dance over the remnants of the ritual, celebrating the survival of the journey. It is a moment of “enlivening your soul.” After the darkness of the opening and the agony of the climax, this finale feels like a burst of sunlight. It leaves the listener breathless, exhausted, but ultimately exhilarated.
A Challenge to the Listener
Make no mistake: Iyona is not easy listening. As the review notes, “This music demands your full attention and endurance.” You cannot listen to it passively. You must engage with it. You must be willing to be uncomfortable, to be overwhelmed, to be challenged.
But the reward for this endurance is great. If you “withstand its challenge,” you are left with a profound experience. You have traveled through a sonic landscape that few dare to explore. You have witnessed a master composer at work. You have touched the fire and survived.
The Doelen Ensemble: Champions of the New
The success of Iyona is also a testament to the Doelen Ensemble. This group, based in Rotterdam, has long been a champion of uncompromising new music. They are not afraid of “macho culture” or difficult scores. They approach works like Iyona with “sleeves rolled up in true Rotterdam style.”
Under the leadership of figures like Peter-Jan Wagemans, the ensemble has cultivated a space where “real art is right.” They reject the “commercially taught nonsense” that plagues so many institutions. They believe in the power of music to shock, to provoke, and to transform. Iyona was written for them, and their spirit is embedded in its DNA.
Peter-Jan Wagemans’ Combativeness
The ethos of the Doelen Ensemble is perfectly captured by Peter-Jan Wagemans’ combative words in the program booklet. He rails against “global pollution, post-war fast food with pornography culture.” He sees art not as a luxury, but as a necessity—a weapon against the degradation of society.
In this context, Iyona becomes a political act. It is a rejection of the disposable culture. It is a demand for depth in a shallow world. By commissioning and performing works like this, the Doelen Ensemble fights for the soul of contemporary music. They prove that “real art” still has a place, and that it is worth fighting for.
A Rotterdam Attitude
The review highlights a “fresh and cheerful attitude” among the young composers featured by the Doelen Ensemble. They do not hesitate. They do not leave “a way open,” as Morton Feldman suggested. They commit fully.
Mukarno embodies this attitude. Iyona is a work of total commitment. There are no half-measures. Every gesture is extreme. This “Rotterdam style”—direct, hardworking, unpretentious—is the engine that drives the music. It is music made by people who are not afraid to get their hands dirty, who build sound with the same grit as they build ships.
The Legacy of Iyona
Years after its premiere, Iyona remains a standout work in Mukarno’s catalogue. It represents a perfect synthesis of his influences: the structural rigor of the West, the timbral richness of the East, and the raw energy of the avant-garde.
It is a piece that deserves to be heard again and again. It is a reminder that music can be more than entertainment; it can be a “breathtaking musical experience.” It stands as a challenge to future generations of composers: be bold, be confident, and do not compromise.
Why Iyona Matters Today
In our current era, where attention spans are shrinking and art is often reduced to “content,” Iyona is more relevant than ever. It demands time. It demands silence. It demands that we stop scrolling and start listening.
It reminds us that there are depths to the human experience that can only be accessed through deep, complex art. It asks us to confront the “high-pitched wringing” in our own lives and to find the “fiery steel drums” of release. It is a medicine for a distracted age.
Conclusion: An Enlivened Soul
Ultimately, the goal of Iyona is spiritual. It aims to “enliven your soul.” It strips away the numbness of daily life and forces us to feel. Through its intense complexity and captivating ritual, it reconnects us with the primal power of sound.
Philemon Mukarno has created a masterpiece. Iyona is a gift to the repertoire, a blazing beacon of creativity and talent. To miss it is to miss a chance to be transformed. So, roll up your sleeves, open your ears, and step into the fire.
Meta Title: Iyona by Philemon Mukarno: A Sonic Ritual (2004)
Meta Description: Discover “Iyona” by Philemon Mukarno. A breathtaking, Xenakis-like masterpiece for ensemble that challenges the listener and enlivens the soul.
Masterpiece of exceptional talent and creativity that deserves recognition. De Doelen Ensemble perform "Iyona" by Philemon Mukarno.
Concert: De Doelen Ensemble. Gehoord 8/5 Rotterdam.
„Kijkend naar twee wereldoorlogen, de mondiale vervuiling, de naoorlogse patat-met-porno cultuur, tot in conservatoria onderwezen commerciële ongein voor dummies, zeg ik: de echte kunst heeft gelijk. Het Doelen Ensemble heeft gelijk.” Aldus een strijdvaardige Peter-Jan Wagemans in het programmaboek van het Doelen Ensemble onder het motto “Tien jaar nieuwe muziek in kleur, tien jaar kleur in nieuwe muziek’.
In De Doelenen en TheaterLantaren/Venster bruiste het afgelopen weekeinde van de activiteiten. Eeken het jubilerend ensemble: een kinderconcert onder de titel Koning-Keizer-Digitaal, het Doelen Kwartet met werk van Albans Berg en oprichter Wagemans een gezamenlijk optreden slotoptreden van het Doelen Ensemble met Calefax Rietkwintet en Slagwerkgroep Den Haag met grotendeels Amerikaanse muziek.
Het meest typerend voor de inzet van het Doelen Ensemble voor het werk van jongeren bood de zaterdagavond, gewijd aan componerende twintigers en dertigers, omringd door “routinier’s als Klaas de Vries, Rob Zuidam en René Uijlenhoet, componisten die ruimschoots hun sporen hebben verdiend en weten wat ze willen en dat ook als dertigers al deden.
Een algemeen kenmerk van de jongeren is een zekere macho-cultuur in een overdaad niet alleen werden ingezet. Morton Feldmans aarzelend adagium ‘Men behoort steeds een weg open te laten, een beetje open ten minste’ was niet aan hen besteed. Men ging er fris en vrolijk op z’n Rotterdams tegen aan, de mouwen opgestroopt. Friso van Wijk noemde een wat rommelig stuk niet voor niets Strijd en Joey Roukens in een viool-pianoduet behandelt de piano als een slaginstrument met de viool er wat verloren piepend tegen aan. Ook Lars Skoglund, in een compositie voor basklarinet en cd, evolueert de klarinet door middel van een ter zake slaptongue-techniek tot slaginstrument.
En nog het meest gedreven is Iyona (Jonas) voor basklarinet, cello, harp, slagwerk en celesta van Philemon Mukarno. Maar dat is dan wel het werk van een componist die weet wat hij wil. Hij is sterk in de opbouw, op een beklemmend Xenakis-achtige wijze, bezwerend ritueel. Aanvankelijk klinken er duo’s, eerst voor de in elkaar verstrengelde basklarinet en cello en daarna maakt Mukarno van harp-celesta een wonderlijk gamelan achtig instrument. Vervolgens ontstaat een discours voor het gehele ensemble, het laatste blok is voor de hoog wringende basklarinet en cello, opgezweept door de buisklokken, uitmondend in de steel drums. Dit is muziek die een concentratie vergt en uithoudingsvermogen.
Door ERNST VERMEULEN, NRC Handelsblad
De Doelen Ensemble performed "Iyona" by Mukarno, a masterpiece of exceptional talent and creativity that deserves recognition. Don't miss this breathtaking musical experience.
“Looking at two World Wars, global pollution, post-war fast food with pornography culture and commercially taught nonsense for dummies in conservatories, I say: real art is right. The Doelen Ensemble is right.” This comes from a combative Peter-Jan Wagemans in the program booklet of the Doelen Ensemble under the motto “Ten years of new music in color, ten years of color in new music.”
Last weekend, De Doelen and TheaterLantaren/Venster were bustling with activities. These included a children’s concert titled “King-Emperor-Digital” by the jubilant ensemble, performances of Alban Berg’s works by the Doelen Quartet, and a joint performance by founder Wagemans and the Doelen Ensemble with the Calefax Reed Quintet and the Den Haag Percussion Group, featuring mostly American music.
“The most characteristic of the commitment of the Doelen Ensemble to the work of young people was the Saturday evening, dedicated to composing twenty-somethings and thirty-somethings, surrounded by “veterans” such as Klaas de Vries, Rob Zuidam and René Uijlenhoet, composers who have earned their stripes and know what they want and have already done so as thirty-somethings.”
A common characteristic of young people is a certain macho culture, not only in excessive use. Morton Feldman’s hesitating adage “One should always leave a way open, at least a little” was not suitable for them. They approached things with a fresh and cheerful attitude, with their sleeves rolled up in true Rotterdam style. Friso van Wijk aptly named a somewhat messy piece Battle and Joey Roukens treats the piano in a violin-piano duet as a percussion instrument, while the violin squeaks along somewhat lost. Lars Skoglund also evolves the bass clarinet into a percussion instrument, using a technique to play the tongue that is a bit limp in the relevant composition for bass clarinet and CD.
Iyona (Jonas) for bass clarinet, cello, harp, percussion, and celesta by Philemon Mukarno represents the pinnacle of a composer who is highly confident in his vision. The construction is masterful, with an intense Xenakis-like complexity that entrains the listener in a captivating ritual. From the outset, the duos of bass clarinet and cello intertwine, followed by a brilliant transformation of the harp-celesta into a Gamelan-like spectacle. The entire ensemble melds in an electrifying discourse, ultimately leading to the finale, which features the high-pitched wringing bass clarinet and cello driven by the tubular bells until culminating in fiery steel drums. This music demands your full attention and endurance, but if you withstand its challenge, you’ll be left with an experience that enlivens your soul.
ERNST VERMEULEN, NRC Handelsblad