Composed and Produced by Behnam Arzaghi, February 2025, in collaboration with Alyssa Johnson and Paracosm Dance for Zach Young’s world premiere: An Exploration of Movement, Structure, and Integrated Design.

Levitations I takes its inspiration—perhaps uncharacteristically for me—directly from its title. In this case, levitations alludes to a violin lesson I once had with Arnold Steinhardt. He was already in his 70s at the time, and at one point, we took a break from the particulars of playing. (This was at the very end of my time pursuing violin professionally, so beyond the Bach Allemande I played for him, I hadn’t prepared much.)

I remember him talking about how the greatest violinists had such command and mastery of the instrument that, when you watched them play, it could appear as if they were levitating. But this was merely an illusion. He said that even the greatest players—"even Heifetz!" I remember him saying—must eventually come back down to Earth. Humbled by age, injury, or simply the impossibility of attaining perfection, it was bound to happen. And yet, he said, this was the ultimate work of any performer: to devote oneself to perpetuating the illusion of levitation for as long as possible.

So that became the theme of the piece: capturing the pursuit of craft, the ephemeral moment of levitation.

The piece opens with an inchoate soundscape. The elements of what’s to come—fragments of the primary bass line, sampled and distorted violin sounds—swim together in a disorganized, chaotic churn.

The main violin part represents the craftsman, entering with a bare three-note motif: a leap up, then a step down. The fragment repeats, much like a beginner trying to get it right. In the background, a chorus of strings responds in a layered, stochastic texture, demonstrating what the violin’s simple melody could become—much like a teacher might demonstrate for a student. Finally, the violin embarks on a full statement of the melody, stepping carefully through each note. As it gains footing, it begins to explore variations, floating over a slow-growing swell as the background strings permute and evolve.

The piece rises and falls at multiple levels of hierarchy: within the motif itself, within the main four-bar phrase (a stack of three motifs rising, then one falling), and within the larger structure—the first peak collapses into stillness before a second emergence. Cycles within cycles, waves within waves, yet never quite returning to the same place.

This becomes especially clear in the contrast between the two halves of the piece, split by a moment of silence at the six-minute mark. The second iteration lacks the tentativeness of the first. Like a seasoned craftsman recalling their once-beginner’s mind, the violin restates the motif—this time needing no invitation before launching into the main theme, moving through it with ease and freedom. Once again, the lines build, but just as the violin soars higher and the trajectory feels inevitably triumphant, the ground beneath it begins to collapse. The bass line begins a chromatic descent, pulling everything with it. The main line resists, climbing higher and holding on to its peak for as long as possible. But slowly, inevitably, it floats back down, eventually returning to the same shrouded soundscape from the very opening of the piece.

I added the "I" in "Levitations I" just because I think it's kind of funny and pretentious. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Levitations I (2025)

LIFT (2016) was commissioned by the Caramoor Center for Music and Arts. Premiered by the Aizuri Quartet on July 8, 2016 at the Caramoor Summer Music Festival.

Stride

Behnam

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