‘You can’t copy him. You have to let him breathe through it.’

Friday 27 March 2026 will see the premiere of Symphony No. 8 by Luc Brewaeys (1959-2015). It is one of the highlights of Fasten Seat Belts!, a season-long tribute to one of Flanders’ most remarkable composers. Only a few bars of the final movement were written, but Annelies Van Parys has pieced together a new finale bar by bar, entirely in the style of Brewaeys. Last summer, Ann Eysermans sought her out for a conversation about this exceptional and delicate commission.

You are working on completing Luc Brewaeys’ Symphony No. 8. The first three movements and the first four bars of the fourth movement had already been completed by Luc, and then there were extended silences. Only a few passages with flutes and trumpets persisted until the end. You noticed that the spectrum of these first four bars of the fourth movement differs by a semi-tone from the beginning. How did you make a start on completing the composition? 

I spent endless hours leafing through the score. I reread the first three movements time and time again, and then I set them alongside the fragments of the final movement. Perhaps something else from the first movement could reappear in the final movement? I looked for connections. After that I began to analyse spectra, also in Luc’s other scores: what are the underlying spectra and how did he construct them? What struck me was that I could never identify a consistent system; it felt as though he was deliberately working against any structured approach. If Luc repeated something, he never did it literally, but always with variations. So a ‘copy and paste’ approach was out of the question. Luc himself would never have done that.

In a previous interview you said: ‘It is impossible to complete the work in the way that Luc would have done, because you can never know how he would have done it.’ You spoke about Kintsugi, the Japanese art of repair, but ‘with a different colour’. What exactly did you mean?

Originally I thought: I will insert something completely different, so that his music would remain recognisable, without my own voice resonating through it. But then you come up against that long passage with the trumpets, which fill the last movement of the piece. It was difficult to find the right colour, and it would then have become too monotonous. I also wanted to respect those passages as they were, without removing bars or adding extra ones. But the result was far too dull. Introducing other colours and contrasts – something very peaceful alongside his nervous composition style – originally seemed to be an option, but ultimately I decided to complete it in his style, so to speak. I set to work with material from his Symphony No. 8 and also from other works, such as Along the Shores of Lorn (2005) and L’uomo dal fiori in bocca (2006). Although I did not add any notes or spectra of my own, I did apply transpositions and variations. In this way, I pieced it together bar by bar.

How do you try to incorporate his vision and ideas into it?
By continuing to work in the manner in which he composed his Symphony No. 8. I also looked at Fasten Seat Belts! (1997), a very different work but with a similar energy, and his Symphony No. 7 (2001). In his Symphony No. 8 he alternates between tutti and solo passages, with a great deal of colour. I wanted to carry this through. It was total guesswork, a kind of deduction: if this is what is at the start and reappears there, then it will perhaps also fit here. A kind of educated guesswork. But whether it is ‘correct’? It is a possible solution and this would never have been Luc’s solution, but given that it consists entirely of his material, it will hopefully sound a bit like Luc.

In the complex chords, you found notes that you cannot explain. Where do these come from? 
That’s the question. Sometimes there are notes that do not fit into the spectrum, especially in the denser passages. Perhaps he had calculated something, or used ring modulation – I don’t know. I stopped guessing and applied them in a similar way in my additions. I use some chords quite literally, copying or transposing them. Fortunately, in many places the material did largely fit within a single spectrum.

Did he also do this in other works?

Absolutely. In his opera, for instance, he arranged the overtones as a set rather than as a fixed series. The 11th, 13th, or even 27th overtone could be positioned as the foundational note, probably in order to create a greater degree of dissonance. The lowest note typically served as the root of the chord.

Have you ever spoken to him about his working methods?

Rarely. When I studied under him in Ghent, he spoke little about his own work. Later he did send me scores, but without much explanation. Afterwards I regretted not having asked him more. But at the time I was not yet engaged with spectralism, which only came into my practice later on. Luc always let me go my own way. Yet it was still somehow embedded in my own work. My Phrases V (2001), for example, is actually modal, but sounds highly spectral at times.

The complex rhythms also fascinate you.

Yes. In the dense passages, it sometimes seems as if he is trying to avoid sounds aligning. But there are other passages too. The trumpets, for example, do work together, but the string passage beneath them at the beginning feels exceptionally free. I continued that in ‘his’ way, which was far from simple, because when I am composing something myself, I look for systems in everything. Luc rarely repeated something, and when he did, he would often modify or truncate the material. As if he was not allowed to repeat himself.

You would like to complete the work ‘in his style’, but that is nigh-on impossible. How do you deal with this ambiguity?

As far as possible, I have tried to recycle Luc’s material in a varied way. However, I realise that he would almost certainly have filled in the trumpet passage far more densely. I added very little to that in order to be able to create a build-up. Luc would probably have filled it with notes, but I wanted to allow the original material to breathe. I therefore opted not to add too much, but where I did make additions, to use Luc’s own material. 

This text is the summary of an interview conducted by Ann Eysermans on 4 August 2025. This took place on the occasion of the premiere of Luc Brewaeys’ Symphony No. 8, completed by Annelies Van Parys, and performed during Klarafestival on 27 March 2026 by the Belgian National Orchestra. This text is taken from the publication Fasten Seat Belts! Celebrating Luc Brewaeys (c) Luc Brewaeys Foundation, MATRIX [Centre for New Music], 2025. Translation by Vicky Morrison.