Józef Patkowski, the long-time head of Polish Radio Experimental Studio and a tireless moderator of musical life, exposed Poland to the world. In 1957 he initiated the Studio’s work by organizing a symposium about creating music for magnetic tape. The roll call from this day includes many composers, broadcasters, personalities from the worlds of theatre and cinema, poets, choreographers, intellectuals and engineers. Among them was then 24 years old Krzysztof Penderecki.
The studio became a meeting place for Eugeniusz Rudnik and Krzysztof Penderecki who, guided by the former, made his first forays into the fascinating world of electronic music. In the early 1960s the duo created over 30 movie and theatre scores. At first, scared of the high voltage inside the studio's tape recorders, Penderecki leaves most of the work to Rudnik. However with time the two composers achieved great creative synergy, and their work seemed to take place in an atmosphere of 'boyish horseplay'. They became homo ludens incarnate.
Józef Patkowski, the long-time head of Polish Radio Experimental Studio and a tireless moderator of musical life, exposed Poland to the world. In 1957 he initiated the Studio's work by organizing a symposium about creating music for magnetic tape. The roll call from this day includes many composers, broadcasters, personalities from the worlds of theatre and cinema, poets, choreographers, intellectuals and engineers. Among them was then 24 years old Krzysztof Penderecki.
Recollecting on this period in his life, Rudnik calls these recording sessions 'sit-ins' - their length was limited only by his and Penderecki's fantasy and physical endurance. It's hard, he says, to compare these theatrical and cinematics commissions with today's carefully budgeted orders. Penderecki says that, if it weren't for his experiments with Rudnik, he would never have written Threnody to the Victims of Hiroshima, De natura sonoris and many others scores which are clearly influenced by his empirical experiences with acoustic spectra, oscilloscopes and multi-track recordings.
These theatrical and cinematic scores from half a century ago demand and deserve to be treated as autonomous creations. Their beauty lies, paradoxically, in their subservience to other artworks and the inescapable limitations of form and material which, inexplicably, add to their overall appeal. The excellent quality of these works is a testament to the composer's talent and erudition, but also to Rudnik's technical skill and creativity - after all, this sound engineer was soon to become a lauded composer.