The history of music is the history of mastery; man has developed instruments, and himself in playing them. Instrumental mastery is not an end in itself, but freedom of musical expression calls for a command of the chosen instrument. Music manifests and lends substance to feelings, often without words, but always across the entire universe of human experience.

The Chamber Concerto is, as its name suggests, ensemble music cast in a concerto-like mould. Each member of the ensemble is a soloist. The result is a Babel of discourse in which each narrator tells his own story, endowing it with all the richness bestowed on him by life.

Talking about music, even music with a story, is usually irksome, because music is not words. I am, however, venturing to make an exception: I want to put music into words, to give the work a new surface dimension, i.e. not as a narrative about music but as counterpoint to that which is possible.

Furioso emerges above the hectic babble of voices in which each has something important to say but is given no room to say it. At the end, agreement is reached on the procedure to be observed. There is something Kafkan about all this.

Tempestoso is an aftershock of the storm, as the disruptive moment in nature merges with something experienced in a dream, taking place at this very moment in time. Everything is straining towards equilibrium.

Amoroso is a love story. And about love as a power. To tell the truth, I often think that the only important role of music in this world is to tell about love.

Forza. Con fuoco is energy, not aggressive but resolute. It keeps things moving. It has something of real life about it. The daily grind.

Misterioso. The music of this movement is not sad in the traditional way. I respect grief, which has a time and a purpose. This music about grief is more a hymn of praise to the continuity of life and eternity. The movement ends not in near silence but in a celebration of the beauty of eternity and the freedom of all things.

—Kimmo Hakola, 29 January 2002, Paris