Since the mid-1930s, quantum physics has known about the spooky idea of ’entanglement’, or ‘quantum nonlocality’, in which the states of two particles can become entwined even though they are separated in space. But recent experiments have also shown that there is a new flavour of entanglement: the mind-bending concept of ‘entangled time’, or ‘temporal nonlocality’, in which particles can influence each other even though they never co-existed. One way of thinking of this is that one particle can influence the future state of another particle before it exists, or that one particle can affect the past state of another particle.
This piece entangles four different scales and concepts of time. At the beginning we hear only a flurry of granular fluctuations, tappings and flutterings from the cellist as they play rapid passages on the A string, but without the bow—this is the ‘quantum foam’, the fluctuations of spacetime that occur on infinitesimal scales. Superimposed on this is clock time, regular pulsed elements that reoccur throughout the piece. This first appears as the bow intersecting with the A string, and bringing the quantum fluctuations to life.
And superimposed on both of these is ‘bodily time’, the performer’s breath-phraseology that steers longer more sustained swells and falls. These are represented in long notes that are shaped and have their internal harmonic structures gradually revealed through careful timbral manipulation. Finally there is vocal time, the speech-like twangs and cadences that suggest, if not entirely realise, a kind of communicative act. These are represented by more conventional melodic gestures that emerge from the more abstract background layers.
These four concepts of time are passed around the different strings of the instruments, sometimes interacting or entangling with each other to produce unpredictable consequences.
Entangled Time was written for cellist Séverine Ballon.