London, 2026

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When the Hummingbird Stops is Mathieu Karsenti’s latest solo project. In this release, the composer draws a quiet parallel between ourselves and the hummingbird: always moving, always alert, always searching. But what happens when the hummingbird stops? And, by extension, what happens when we stop? What do we notice? What do we feel? What remains once movement gives way to stillness. These questions lie at the heart of one of the composer's most introspective works to date. Karsenti's music is often built around intimate and unusual chamber settings. Here, for the second time following the violin trio of Mirages, and once again in collaboration with violinist Helena Maria Falk, he writes for three violins. 

 

When the Hummingbird Stops explores the interplay between three independent melodic voices that move together and apart, complementing one another without ever allowing a single line to dominate. For Karsenti, counterpoint is less about virtuosity than balance — finding the equilibrium between individual expression and collective unity. In his singular compositional voice, Karsenti fuses impressionistic colours with minimalist processes and subtle echoes of Baroque writing. The result is a reflective work, accompanied by two variations, in which the music unfolds patiently and naturally rather than seeking dramatic contrast.

The intimate musical spaces that Karsenti creates are among the work’s greatest strengths. Emotion is rarely stated directly; instead, it is quietly suggested, inviting the listener into a world where feeling is experienced rather than expressed. There remain traces of impressionistic — almost Debussy-esque — gestures throughout the music, such as the recurring minor-third trill that gently appears and disappears in the title work, becoming a subtle thread woven through the musical fabric.

Helena Maria Falk once again captures precisely the atmosphere the music demands. Her playing employs just enough vibrato while carefully avoiding unnecessary drama, allowing the emotional weight of the music to emerge naturally. As Karsenti himself often suggests, writing for the violin presents unique challenges. Without the breadth and depth of a cello's register, expression must be achieved through nuance, colour and the careful shaping of individual lines rather than sheer sonority.

Japanese aesthetics continue to permeate Karsenti's music in an entirely natural way. The Franco-British composer openly acknowledges these influences, themselves shaped by his long-standing interest in the music and artistic traditions of the Far East. Rather than appearing as stylistic quotations, these influences have gradually become integrated into his own musical language, revealing themselves through restraint, space and an appreciation for simplicity.

Perhaps the most striking aspect of this release is just how distinctive Karsenti's artistic voice has become. While he continues to experiment and place himself outside his comfort zone, the qualities that define his music are becoming increasingly recognisable. His fascination with multiple independent voices, their gradual convergence and separation, remains central to his writing. Beneath it all also lies a discreet connection to the contrapuntal thinking of Bach — never overtly referenced, yet quietly present as an underlying structural influence.

 

With When the Hummingbird Stops, Karsenti once again demonstrates that intimacy can be every bit as compelling as grandeur. Through carefully balanced counterpoint, understated expression and a deeply singular musical language, he invites the listener to embrace stillness — and to discover what can be heard when movement finally comes to rest.