Madrigale emerges from the meeting point between an ancient musical form and a startlingly contemporary text: a fragment from a yoga manual describing, in almost clinical terms, the physical and mental tension of modern life.

The music is built from minimal elements: isolated melodic fragments, rarefied counterpoint, silences that take the place of narrative.

The voice does not interpret, but exposes.
The ensemble does not accompany, but opens space around the words.

The rhetoric of the madrigal survives only in trace form — in the attention to phonetic detail, in the unstable micro-polyphony, in the intimate relationship between gesture and breath.

Madrigale is a piece about tension: bodily, linguistic, temporal.