When Music and Words Dare to Feel at the Nieuwe Kerk, The Hague
“Dare to listen. Dare to discover.” Taken from the press release, this line did not feel like mere promotional language – it came to life last night at the Nieuwe Kerk in The Hague. In a setting where contemporary classical music met literature, the evening became an act of quiet provocation. It was not just unusual. It was necessary.
The evening brought together a range of works, including four new compositions by women composers – Kate Moore, Alice Yeung, Seung-Won Oh, and Sara Zamboni – set alongside readings from Ali Smith’s Seasonal Quartet. The result was a journey through sound and language, shifting like the seasons themselves.
Each piece was distinct in tone and structure, challenged the listener’s expectations. They bent musical logic, broke away from form, and gave space to tension, silence, and sudden release. These were not pieces designed to comfort. They stirred. They asked questions. They held nothing back.
These new compositions were brought to life by the New European Ensemble – one of the most adventurous chamber groups in the Netherlands. Founded in 2009 and based in The Hague, the ensemble is known for its innovative programming and for bridging genres and disciplines. Their members, young, daring, and deeply present, performed with intensity, precision, and a kind of fearlessness. Their playing carried more than sound—it carried intention. One sensed a commitment not just to the score, but to the spirit of discovery itself.
If the music broke rules, it was in good company. Scottish author Ali Smith, a master of subverting literary form, brought a different voice to the stage – playful, incisive, and deeply humane. Her readings, taken from the Seasonal Quartet, were delivered in a soft Scottish accent that made each word resonate with intimacy. Her voice did not perform the text. It inhabited it. There was a rhythm to her delivery – a musical cadence that made the boundary between word and sound blur in the best possible way.
For many in the audience, hearing Smith live was a discovery. Despite her many accolades – multiple Booker Prize short-listings, a Nobel nomination, international critical acclaim – she read without pretense. With clarity, with wit, and with the quiet confidence of someone who knows exactly what she wants her words to do. There was sharpness, but never coldness. Emotion, but never excess.
For me, hearing Smith live was especially powerful. English is not my first language, but I often choose to read in it – even when the original text is not English – because I believe it offers space to explore, to shift, to stretch. In her hands, the language becomes something fluid, living, searching. A line from Winter lingered with me: “Imagine being haunted by the ghost of a flower.” That was exactly the sensation – something fragile, momentary, and impossible to explain.
The evening did not offer easy interpretations -and that was its strength. The composers’ works revealed introspection and risk, while the New European Ensemble responded with empathy, clarity, and depth. Together, they shaped something both fragile and necessary.
For me, it was an evening of discoveries. I discovered the boldness and generosity of these four women composers. I witnessed the courage and artistry of a young ensemble that plays with conviction. And I met, for the first time, the voice of Ali Smith – not just on the page, but in the air, alive and charged with presence.
As the evening drew to a close, one could not help but look forward. This concert was not the end of the story – it was the beginning. A new production, The Seasons, based on this collaboration, will premiere on 27 June at the Holland Festival and continue touring across the Netherlands until the end of November. But this is not just a concert. It is an immersive, multi-sensory journey through the four seasons – one that includes music, literature, food, drink, and atmosphere. It promises to go far beyond the traditional concert format, inviting audiences to step into a space where nature, time, memory, and art converge.
And perhaps that is what lingered most from this evening: not a conclusion, but a feeling. What mattered was not resolution or understanding. It was presence. Letting music and language unfold on their own terms. And in that quiet surrender, something real happened – something that stayed with us, like a trace of season, or the ghost of a flower.
Not everything needs to be explained. Some things are meant to be felt – and carried with you. Carmen BULZ 8th June 2025
Photo by Wout Vellekoop / Dag in de Branding
