The third movement, Into the Black Hole, represents adulthood and the human struggle with fear, suffering and uncertainty. The black hole is not presented scientifically, but as a spiritual passage into memory, transformation and truth. As the music descends, distorts and gradually rises again, familiar themes return in altered forms, suggesting that the past can be reinterpreted rather than erased. The movement ultimately reveals its central message: what appears to be an ending may instead become the beginning of renewal.

What is in front of you? What do you see right now?

If you are truly on this journey, you will be looking into a black hole. On the outside, it appears to be nothing more than darkness. But within it lies the connection between our world and the world beyond the tangible and the understandable: a realm beyond ordinary understanding.

Not as we usually imagine such a realm. Not a place where everyone simply lives forever. Instead, it is the place where we encounter something greater than ourselves and finally understand how the world truly came to be.

The black hole looks frightening. It looks endless. It looks as though it could tear you apart and destroy you. But it is not. It is kind. It seems to offer healing, not by erasing suffering, but by transforming the way we understand it.

Every end is a beginning.

The black hole may appear to be the ultimate end, where gravity and light disappear forever. But in reality, it is the greatest beginning in the entire universe. Every act of greatness and every new beginning comes from its energy.

It is just like our own lives. Whenever we face a challenge, whenever we believe we have reached the end, there is always another beginning. That is the message of the metaphorical black hole.

Butterflies in the Soul

The butterflies extend beyond the stomach and beyond the heart. The agitation enters the soul. You truly feel it now. It is no longer something on the surface, but something deliberately placed within us by the flaws of existence.

Then comes the horn melody. These are our voices echoing through the void. No one can hear us. They seem to be cries for help, but in reality, they are cries expressing our desire to enter the black hole. This journey seems to have been waiting for us, yet we have never undertaken it.

The harmony reveals this hidden instinct. If you combine the first notes of the first four bars, they form a G dominant-seventh chord. The first notes of the next four bars form a C major chord. If you combine the second notes of the first four bars, they form a French augmented-sixth chord on F-sharp. The second notes of the next four bars form a radiant F dominant-seventh chord, filled with positivity and light.

This pattern continues throughout the horn melody. We do not realise that these voices are our own, or that they are declaring our desire to make this journey. We need it. We may not consciously understand that need, but instinctively, we have always known.

The horn melody is accompanied by the flute, oboe and piccolo playing harsh but quiet triplets. They represent something completely unknown to us. All the textures combine, and all our emotions exist at once.

Yet deep within them, the true human heart remains alive. Somewhere inside us, we still know that this journey is for our own good. It is a quest for truth.

The Confrontation of the Hole

Now, this is the point where the movement truly begins. This section is called The Confrontation of the Hole.

You first hear the low, dark cellos and double basses. Their notes seem to ascend, yet gradually move lower and lower. It is as though, by approaching the black hole, your reality itself is being pulled downwards.

You may also notice that almost all the tempo markings in this movement are written in Ancient Greek, except from this section onwards. That is because you are brought back into reality. You are brought back into the present. You are forced to confront the black hole from your own human perspective.

Then the violin enters with a simple yet powerful melody, surrounded by tremolos. Soon, the entire string section takes on the same rhythm as the cellos and double basses. The violins and violas begin in pizzicato, before moving into col legno. Accented notes in the cellos, double basses and first violins continue to fall lower and lower.

Then the trumpets enter with two powerful melodies. But those melodies begin to fade, just as the strings fade before them.

In the end, all that remains is a single, quiet violin. It has no power left. And neither do you.

You have no power over what now exists between you and the black hole. It may feel as though the journey has been leading you towards this point all along. Even if it frightens you, even if you want to turn back, this is something the journey asks you to face.

Event Horizon

This is a place from which even light cannot escape, where gravity becomes inescapable. To you, this truly appears to be the end. But in reality, you have only reached the first stage of truth: the first stage of encountering something beyond ordinary human understanding.

First, the clarinet, oboe and flute echo a familiar melody—the melody heard at the end of the second movement. But instead of ending on the dark C augmented-seventh chord, it now ends on a questioning E dominant-seventh chord. This leads into my favourite section of the entire piece, and one of the most emotional and touching moments of this journey.

The flute carries the main melody, while the dark cellos answer it with a countermelody. The first violins, second violins and violas play soft, clustered, con sordino tremolos through constantly changing chords, descending lower and lower. It feels as though nothing is going right.

But soon, the melody begins to rise. It climbs higher and higher. Everything begins to change. Everything begins to move towards the light.

Then have you truly entered the black hole and the depths of reality.

Here, the hairpins, crescendos and diminuendos disappear. The players are left to use their own intuition as their guide in a world beyond physical understanding. That is exactly what must happen.

This leads directly into the next section—perhaps the most powerful and familiar section of the movement, at least for certain people.

Memories: Not So Distant Perhaps

Then comes Memories Not So Distant, Perhaps. This is probably the most reflective section in the entire piece. I may have used the word "reflective" many times, but that is simply the nature of this symphony. Reflection becomes almost unavoidable in a world like this.

This section brings together my three previous symphonies and my first piano concerto, using brief fragments from each work. You are travelling backwards through time inside the black hole—not only through the universe, but through my music and my own past.

You first hear a distorted version of the grand finale of my Third Symphony. This is followed by a quieter, calmer version of a climactic passage from my Second Symphony, and then the opening of my First Piano Concerto. Finally, you hear my First Symphony.

The music remains recognisable, but everything is slowed down. The notes and harmonies are largely unchanged, yet they no longer feel the same. The black hole slows time, alters perception and forces you to question what is truly real.

Then the harp takes over in perhaps the most powerful moment of the section. It plays my very first piano piece, The Carnation Waltz. Although I did not fully understand the meaning of its title when I wrote it, it now carries a powerful significance.

A carnation is a beautiful flower. Yet flowers also reveal the limitations of physical beauty. Their beauty is profound, but temporary. We are often more attracted to what appears beautiful than to what is truly beautiful.

The melody and harmony of The Carnation Waltz remain almost the same, but on the harp they seem transformed. They are familiar, yet distorted, as though memory itself has changed them.

Through this memory, you move towards the end of the black hole. You are nearly through it, and you begin to realise that you have succeeded. The minor subdominant gives way to a radiant A major chord.

This is the meaning of the memory section. You look back at everything that came before because the black hole has changed time. It has carried you through the past, transformed your memories and brought you towards the truth.

And then, you arrive.

The End Is the Beginning

Then comes The End Is the Beginning: the central message of this entire symphony, and the key to unlocking spiritual truth.

The horns echo a melody similar to the one heard at the beginning. But now, it is transformed. What once carried tension and uncertainty has become a melody of joy and celebration.

The flutes, oboes and piccolo return with the same harsh rhythmic idea, but its harshness is now transformed into something lighter and almost comedic. What once frightened you can no longer control you.

Gradually, the horns grow into a radiant fanfare, joined by the col legno strings. The entire orchestra now celebrates your arrival.

The movement ends on a bright F major chord, crowned by a high F in the trumpets.

You have arrived at the multidimensional meeting point from which you were born. You have returned to the place where you were always destined to exist. You have completed this spiritual and metaphysical journey.

The end was never truly the end. It was the beginning.

Welcome to your new home.