Andreas Bäuml (Munich, 1991) is the composer selected by ars ad hoc to write a new work for pierrot quintet for the concert that closes its concert mini-series in Serralves, following a call launched in the summer of 2024. Andreas studied music at King’s College London and at the Mozarteum Salzburg (where he worked under Johannes Maria Staud, Reinhard Febelmas and Sarah Nemtsov) this Munich-based composer has collaborated with various ensembles devoted to new music. A few days before the premiere of Shattered Shivers, the composer shares some thoughts about his work.
[AnT] What led you to choose the title “Shattered Shivers”? Does it relate directly to the piece in any way?
[AB] I chose the title after the piece was finished, to try to find a title that expresses the general mood of the piece. I found that quite difficult because there are a lot of fluctuations in energy and character throughout the piece. However, there are just a limited number of elements between which the piece alternates. This made me think of an oscillation between different states that is sometimes cut off, sometimes progressing slowly.
In Shattered Shivers, there seems to be a very static or metronomic pulse that varies between the different instruments. What inspired you to choose this kind of stable pulse? Does it carry any particular meaning?
This pulse is a core element of the piece. It can represent the passing of time, a heartbeat, a clock. It’s important to note while the pulse is passed around between the different instruments, it does not keep the same tempo. It often slows down or speeds up, and so it represents more the time we feel, while the time out there – the measured time – does not really exist from within. It also comes in various energetic loads, from the heaviest beating to just a barely audible clicking noise

This work also seems to explore some pitch fluctuation around the note A. What is the significance of this in the piece?
One of the recurring elements of the piece is the chord f# minor. You could almost call it the harmonic backbone of the piece. Whenever this chord appears, it creates a moment of stability, although only temporarily. It then often disintegrates, the pitch shifts, some notes of the chords get lost. In one large section, only the note A is there, the pitch fluctuates. This is a moment outside time. After a while, the other two pitches of the chord come back in, the illusion of stability is back.
How does “Shattered Shivers” fit into your overall creative journey? Are there any new directions you’re hoping to explore in the near future?
Since last year I have worked with new approaches to form where there is not a clear linear structure of a piece, but more of a cyclical pattern. For this, the length of the piece is less relevant, the sense of time is less important. I find this fascinating that perhaps this can be a way of writing music where the sense of time and duration gets blurred. Working on “Shattered Shivers” also made me curious to work more with gradual tempo changes and patterns. I am fascinated by the way in which rhythm translates energy, and I would like to find some ways in my next pieces in which I can explore the ritualistic qualities and intensity of rhythmic patterns.
You’ve worked with several ensembles, including Les Métaboles, Tana Quartet, Ensemble Fractales, Accio Piano Trio, and Hebrides Ensemble, among others. How has collaborating with these groups influenced the way you write for musicians?
Working with ensembles and musicians in person is always the best way to learn how to write music. Nothing can replace the experience of rehearsing together, to get a feeling for when your score and your idea of the piece is not clear. I won’t always have the chance to be around and explain my piece, so it’s important to be precise. However, working with different ensembles also showed me that a performance is always a collaboration, and as the composer I’m only one of two essential parts. The piece will not exist without the performers, and they bring their own personality and interpretative choices to the score. The piece then only really starts to come to life in the performance. It’s a beautiful experience to become part of this shared process.

Alongside your music studies – a Bachelor of Music from King’s College London, a master’s from Mozarteum University of Salzburg, and a postgraduate diploma – you also have a bachelor’s degree in physics. In what ways, if any, does your scientific background influence your compositional process?
I think that in my music itself my scientific background does not really play any role. However, one aspect might translate very well between these two disciplines: the attitude towards problem-solving. It’s very common in physics to describe a problem, and then find the right tools to tackle it in a practical way that is useful for the goal you want to reach. In composing, it can be surprisingly similar. If I have a vague idea of the mood or feeling that my music shall convey, I have to look at the conditions first: which instruments do I have available, how long can the piece be, etc. Then I have to choose a tool, a compositional technique, and approach to form, an approach to the composition process itself. This choice determines most of the piece. Afterwards comes the practical work of writing the piece, or in science, calculating the solution with the chosen mathematical or computational tools. I also generally enjoy to compose in a more intuitive way, but framing the compositional process like a “problem” often helps me to overcome a creative block.
Thank you!