“Una flauta toca un crecendo que se va convirtiendo en alegria.”
A flute plays a crescendo that starts transforming into joy.
— From “Bailando con mi angel” by Carmen A. Vega Schimmenti, Puerto Rico.
This poem was the spark that ignited the creation of Alma. Ripples of pitches, a web of sonic impulses shimmering in the imagination. In Spanish, “alma” means soul or spirit; invisible forces, like the wind that caresses the chimes outside my window. The opening and closing of the piece evoke the sound of these chimes. The mood of the middle sections is propelled by the cascading of pitches that at times converge and diverge, a myriad of colors in playful conversation of bouncing gestures.
