Humboldt’s Nature
world premiere, LA Phil commission
At-A-Glance
Composed: 2025
Length: c. 25 minutes
Orchestration: 2 flutes, piccolo, 2 oboes, English horn, 3 clarinets (2nd=bass clarinet, 3rd=E-flat clarinet), bass clarinet, 2 bassoons, contrabassoon, 4 horns, 3 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, percussion (crotales, xylophone, triangle, guiro, vibraslap, Chinese opera gong, splash cymbal, suspended cymbal, crash cymbal, congas, tom-toms, bass drum, glockenspiel, bell tree, mark tree, cowbells, egg shakers, caxixi or Venezuelan maracas, cabasa, tambourine, slapstick, ratchet, ocean drum, floor tom, vibraphone, marimba, cymbal stack, bamboo rod, glockenspiel, snare drum), harp, piano, saxophone, recorded track, and strings
About this Piece
During his journey through Latin America in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, Alexander von Humboldt not only shaped a holistic worldview of the world, one in which nature and humanity are inextricably interwoven, but he also underwent a personal transformation that turned him into an empathetic and compassionate author.
Humboldt’s Nature is a 25-minute symphonic fantasy inspired by how I imagine this transformation occurred. I focus particularly on his Personal Narrative of a Journey to the Equinoctial Regions of the New Continent. This meticulous firsthand account is deeply personal to me as his narrative unfolded in what is now Venezuela, my country of birth. I also touch upon his 1826 Political Essay on the Island of Cuba to show how this part of the journey allowed Humboldt to acquire a growing sense of humanity’s injustice toward itself and toward nature, turning him into an outspoken abolitionist.
I feel a special bond with Humboldt and his 1799 journey through Venezuela. At times, my own personal story and his writings seem to merge. While reading Personal Narrative, I learned how aspects of 18th-century Venezuela that Humboldt related to his readers have not changed in centuries. To my amazement, certain passages made me feel like living in a time warp, as though Humboldt was interacting with current-day Venezuelans and navigating many of the same circumstances I experienced as a child. This is especially true of Humboldt’s descriptions of the relationship between landscape, environment, and inhabitants. Through composing this symphonic work, I am reconnecting with my childhood memories of Venezuela in an almost fantastical way, imagining that I am walking side by side with the German scientist as we travel through landscapes and encounter people that are very familiar to me.
I feel honored and thrilled to have Gustavo Dudamel bring Humboldt’s Nature to life, as we celebrate his extraordinary tenure with the LA Phil.
I. Transfiguration in New Andalusia 1799
The work opens with broad brass and strings gestures signifying the rugged yet abundant landscape Humboldt encountered upon his arrival to the eastern coast of Venezuela, known then as New Andalusia. Out of these gestures, fidgety, rhythmical woodwind motives emerge in contrast to a lyrical, yet fragmented 18th-century-style piano melody. Representing Humboldt’s persona, this idée fixe initially heard on the piano will return repeatedly in different variations. This highlights the impact the tropical landscape and the collision between colonial and indigenous cultures had on the German scientist.
II. Steatornis Caripensis (Guácharo Bird)
Humboldt contributed greatly to the field of animal and plant taxonomy. Among the birds on which he bestowed scientific names is an unusual nocturnal bird that lives in dark caves, surfacing only at night to feed. The guácharo, as it is commonly known, is still one of the most culturally iconic and mysterious birds of the Venezuelan fauna. I imagine myself entering the famous Guácharo Cave again—as I did when I was a teenager—but this time as an adult alongside Humboldt. We explore the enormous cave together with caution, eager to spot the little eyes of the guácharos with our lights. Suddenly, in the pitch-black, we are shaken by the birds’ shrieks reverberating from dripping walls and giant stalactites.
III. Venus of Tacarigua
Humboldt’s travel diary reveals that the word “Tacarigua” stands for much more than the name of a quiet Venezuelan coastal town where I spent summers with my family. In 1799, Humboldt learned “Tacarigua” referred to an indigenous culture that once thrived across a vast, resource-rich region. Among these resources was Lake Tacarigua, Venezuela’s largest freshwater body at the time. It was later renamed Lake Valencia by Spanish colonists, resulting in its indigenous origins’ being erased. While exploring the lake, Humboldt observed how land cultivation harmed the ecosystem, shaping his ideas on anthropogenic climate change and laying the groundwork for environmental sciences. He described a vibrant culture around the lake, featuring drums made from Tacarigua trees and clay figurines that resembled ancient Venuses. The music here simulates a drumming ritual honoring an imagined Venus of Tacarigua, intensifying without regard for the ecological degradation caused by unchecked human activity.
IV. Sailing on Air: Luftmeer and the Orinoco Converge
Humboldt referred to the atmosphere as a “sea of air.” The word in German is “Luftmeer.” As a climate science pioneer, he constantly looked up toward the sky to take measurements during his journey on the Orinoco River as he searched for a shorter pathway to the majestic Amazon River. Relying on harp riffs, this luscious, smoothly flowing movement evokes a scene I imagine: Humboldt afloat in a wobbly dugout canoe (curiara) on the vast Orinoco River while contemplating the unbonded sea of air above him. His mind wanders in a spaceless and timeless bliss, wishing he could stay there forever but, at the same time, comforted by the thought of eventually being back in his native Berlin.
V. Four Consolations
At the most blissful and unabashedly romantic incarnation of the idée fixe, the previous movement is abruptly interrupted by a harsh-sounding, lopsided beat followed by an off-kilter melody. This disruption signals the unsettling contrast between nature’s wonders and the rampant inhumanity of slavery Humboldt encountered during his journey. I capture his outspoken outrage over a cruel law that bestowed meager rights to enslaved people in Cuba instead of granting them freedom. Humboldt argued that the law known as “Cuatro Consuelos” was meant only to ward off increased criticism of colonial immorality while continuing human misery. Toward the end of this final movement, the idée fixe is heard one last time, twisting and turning as though Humboldt’s mind is grappling to stay focused and optimistic while processing human nature’s unfathomable contradictions.
—Ricardo Lorenz