commissioned by Invicta Brass and first performed in the Holywell Music Room, Oxford on 7 February 1990; later arranged for four hands at one piano; duration: c.8'

This piece was inspired by the dramatic appearance of God as experienced by Ezekiel (Chapter 1), but is neither merely narrative nor merely pictorial. Rather I have attempted to represent the vision - both what was seen and what it was like to see it - on a more fundamental level, where the number (symbolism) and the sound are so closely linked that the music seems to be the vision itself.

So much for the theory.

In practice, it was the astonishingly close correlation of the instrumental line-up with the 'characters' of the vision, as well as the terrifying grandeur of the brass sound which first established the link. Two things especially occupied me the compositional process: first, the idea of infinity and eternity appearing for a brief moment in space and time - characterised by two, rather paradoxical aspects - perfect symmetry and unstoppableness (the end - it may stop, but not be stopped - is fixed from the beginning, and whether obvious or hidden, it is unchangeable); secondly, the idea that as the visionary's attention may wander from part to part of the vision because the vision as a whole cannot be taken in at once, and yet the vision itself does not change - so the attention of the composer (rather than of the listener) may wander from one element of the musical material to another because I cannot concentrate on all aspects of the music at once, thus producing, particularly to begin with, a sectionalised music, but the music itself goes on heedless of what, on the most immediate, yet superficial level, seem like starts and stops, bumps and jerks.

Monolithic? Yes,...thank you. (23 April 1990)