Martlew, Zoë: Ondine

for cello and piano

In spite of the daunting legacy of master works with the same title, by Debussy, Ravel and Henze, to name three, there was no question that this piece simply had to take the name of the water spirit “Ondine”. Sitting by one of the many natural springs that gush from the rocks in the ancient woodlands near where I live, the fairy stories and myths surrounding elemental beings and water nymphs started to bubble up, like the sparkling water in front of me, from within. Usually depicted as female, Ondines (or Undines) are said to be found in forest pools and waterfalls, their beautiful singing voices heard over the sound of water. Perfect sonic subject matter for a cello and piano to explore! The music follows the journey of water from spring to waterfall to rapids to great river, the camera sometimes homing in on sparkling droplets and bubbles, flowing ineffably towards the great ocean before finally evaporating into light, and the cycle begins again. A crystalline metaphor for the yearning of the human soul to merge with something greater than itself, always seeking perfection. And in these times of profound planetary upheaval and transformation, a reminder that no state is permanent, that all will pass. (Incidentally, a soul is the one thing Ondines are said to lack, unless they marry a human, which drastically shortens their time on Earth. Which can’t be great for domestic life, let’s face it.) My profound thanks to the Vaughan Williams Foundation for supporting this piece.