In 1996, I walked the pilgrimage to Compostela across France and Spain. During these months, I conceived of a series of works that could musically enact the slow transformations of the individual that experience creates.

Bertrandon de la Broquirere was a minor noble from Southern France. Little is known of his life, though from his narrative we learn that he held the minor post of "first carving squire" at the Burgundian court of Philip the Good. In February of 1432, Bertrandon left Ghent for a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, returning in mid-1433. Like many others, before and since, Bertrandon was not traveling solely for devotion; he was also clandestinely assessing the possibility of Philip's launching a new crusade.

Bertrandon's sea journey to Jaffa was relatively uneventful. On his return journey overland through modern-day Syria and Turkey, Bertrandron was confronted with many troubles: at the gates of Damascus he was pulled from a fight over his felt hat ("not the usual costume in those parts"); in Homs, another group threatened to kill him; in the mountains near Tarsus he took ill. In all of these instances, a Mameluke sultan named Mahomet, who seeing that Bertrandon was alone and could not speak the language, accompanied and cared for him. During their time together, Bertrandon learned the ways of his guide: he sat cross-legged, slept on the ground, drank water without wine, and rode his horse without stirrups. At their parting he was moved, and wrote:

"I am writing this so that people will remember that a man not of our faith did many good things for meÉ and he bade me to be very careful, from now on, of the Saracens whose company I kept, warning me that they can be as bad as the Europeans."

Among writers of the time, Bertrandon's kind portrayal was anomalous.

This work is dedicated to the memory of Jonathan Kramer.