Small Hours

Program Notes

two truths,
side by side.
small hours hold
an ending,
and a light.

It's that particular stretch of night, after midnight and before dawn, when the world outside falls away and time seems to slow to the rhythm of a single room.

I'm writing this piece during a long, uncertain stretch with my father. Our family is right in the middle of it, sitting beside him through the hardest days and watching him change in ways none of us would choose. And yet, I often feel something else too, as if two things are happening at once: the hard truth of the room we're in, and just alongside it, a quieter, brighter place that feels entirely real, even though I can't quite reach it.

That duality lives in the two hands. The left hand carries a slow, sorrowful melody, one that returns again and again throughout the piece, the way our days have too. Above it, the right hand moves in tones that never quite settle into the harmony below: untethered, restless, sometimes beautiful in a way that has nothing to do with comfort.

The two lines never fully resolve into one another. They simply continue, side by side, the way two truths can be true at once: that this fight is not over, and that love does not stop either.

Ying-Chen Kao

那是深夜裡特別的一段時光，午夜之後，天亮之前，外面的世界彷彿逐漸隱沒，時間也彷彿放緩了腳步，只隨著這一個房間的節奏流轉。

這首作品，寫於我與父親一起經歷的一段漫長而未知的日子裡。我們一家人正身處其中，陪在他身邊，一起熬過最艱難的日子，看著他以誰都不願見到的方式漸漸改變。然而，在這樣的時刻裡，我常常也感覺到另一件事同時在發生：一邊，是我們所在的這個房間裡，無法迴避的現實；另一邊，就在它的身旁，有一個更安靜、更明亮的地方，真實得彷彿觸手可及，卻始終無法真正抵達。

這種並存的狀態，具體呈現在雙手之間。左手彈奏一段緩慢而哀傷的旋律，在全曲中反覆出現，如同我們的日子，也一再重複。右手則在其上方遊走，音色始終無法真正融入下方的和聲：飄浮不定、不安躁動，時而美麗，卻與慰藉無關。

這兩條旋律線，始終無法真正融合為一。它們只是並肩前行，如同兩個真相可以同時成立：這場戰鬥尚未結束，而愛，也從未停止。