‘Creatures of Dust and Dreams’ is a playful, exuberant piece, opening with spinning, whirling figures throughout the orchestra, with microtonality (pitches outside of the 12-tone equal temperament) featuring throughout.  The use of quarter-tones creates a forced brightness during the opening section, and a descent to - subsequently - a darker, warmer yet mysterious tone within in the middle section.  

The initial idea for this piece can be found in the middle section. There are certain multiphonics played on the clarinet (where two or more notes sound from using non-standard ways of playing). Chords in the strings emerge cloud-like from these multiphonics. To either side of this section, the musical material whirls, building and collapsing in on itself.

On the surface this piece could be seen as a departure from my earlier work. A lot of my work over the last few years has been spent exploring the smaller details and sounds of individual instruments, and the slow, focused unravelling of musical motifs. The best analogy I can make is that it’s like going for a walk with the music; you can stop to look at a certain view, or occasionally wonder away from the path, but you always have the end point in mind, a destination to guide the purposeful meandering.  Whilst this piece feels different in nature, the compositional approach is the same. There’s a playful curiosity to the way the material is explored. Each musician becomes a soloist within the larger body of the orchestra - if only for a few seconds at a time.

The work reflects on our inevitable human frailty and vulnerability, of falling and failing, and the choice to reach out and not only seek help from - but also offer help to - those around us in order to grow and achieve more together than we could have achieved individually.  For a piece whose idea - and indeed title - was imagined over 2 and a half years ago in Spring 2019, with the initial sketching of ideas and structure taking place well prior to a world-wide pandemic, the title remains apt particularly in light of what we have collectively experienced over the last few years.  

In the initial sketches for the piece I had written the following lines:  

“…but if I must first fall, then let me do so gently; my bones are fragile, for we are made only of dust and dreams.”

Sarah Lianne Lewis (November 2021)