Thursday, October 23, 2008
Welcome
Welcome to the music of Justin Merritt. Please visit www.mooneast.com for a complete listing of pieces and other information.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Dervish (Orchestral)
for orchestra
“Wherever you turn, there is the Face of God.”
-Qur’an Surah Baqara 2:1115
The Dervish are members Sufi Muslim mendicant ascetics known for their poetry. Unlike the Mullahs, they have taken vows of poverty. The “whirling Dervishes” dance comes from the Mevlevi Order in Turkey who traces its origin to the poet Rumi. The dance slowly accelerates over minutes or hours to an ecstatic spiritual climax. The sect is still active in Turkey, and is led by Rumi’s 20th great-grandson.
This Dervish does not attempt to imitate traditional Mevlevi music (which typically includes a male choir). Instead, I have borrowed freely from Middle Eastern music, Romani music, Bollywood, and contemporary classical techniques. The main reference to the Dervish is in tempo. The work very slowly accelerates through the first half before collapsing into a “perpetual” accelerando in which the tempo constantly accelerates even while the overall feeling of motion remains strangely constant. The work ends with a dramatic rit. all the way down to quarter=0.
visit www.mooneast.com
“Wherever you turn, there is the Face of God.”
-Qur’an Surah Baqara 2:1115
The Dervish are members Sufi Muslim mendicant ascetics known for their poetry. Unlike the Mullahs, they have taken vows of poverty. The “whirling Dervishes” dance comes from the Mevlevi Order in Turkey who traces its origin to the poet Rumi. The dance slowly accelerates over minutes or hours to an ecstatic spiritual climax. The sect is still active in Turkey, and is led by Rumi’s 20th great-grandson.
This Dervish does not attempt to imitate traditional Mevlevi music (which typically includes a male choir). Instead, I have borrowed freely from Middle Eastern music, Romani music, Bollywood, and contemporary classical techniques. The main reference to the Dervish is in tempo. The work very slowly accelerates through the first half before collapsing into a “perpetual” accelerando in which the tempo constantly accelerates even while the overall feeling of motion remains strangely constant. The work ends with a dramatic rit. all the way down to quarter=0.
visit www.mooneast.com
River of Blood (Orchestral)
for orchestra
River of Blood is based on a 1980 massacre of Salvadoran peasants at the Rio Sumpul by right-wing military forces armed and trained by the United States. Six hundred civilians were killed in the attack. Women were tortured to death, and babies were cut apart with machetes.
River of Blood is not a tone poem mimicking the actions of the day but is rather a collage of images and emotions from that tragic time. Images include violence but also the incredible bravery of Salvadoran journalists who tried to tell their country and their world what was happening, human rights campaigners risking their lives in the face of terror, and the faces of the fishermen who found the bodies of 5 children caught in their fishing traps downstream from the massacre. The work ends with a prayer of mourning and a plea for forgiveness for our involvement.
I first became aware of the massacre while composing a choral work, Hay Días, a setting of a poem by Salvadoran journalist Jaime Suárez Quemain who was murdered by the same junta a few months later. The poem ends:
It is then, sir,
when the enemies of roofless children
walk silently
shadowed by the moonlight
and rap on the doors of angels
and take them away, bound,
to dig a grave
where flowers will grow.
(translated C. Alegría & D. Flakoll)
visit www.mooneast.com
River of Blood is based on a 1980 massacre of Salvadoran peasants at the Rio Sumpul by right-wing military forces armed and trained by the United States. Six hundred civilians were killed in the attack. Women were tortured to death, and babies were cut apart with machetes.
River of Blood is not a tone poem mimicking the actions of the day but is rather a collage of images and emotions from that tragic time. Images include violence but also the incredible bravery of Salvadoran journalists who tried to tell their country and their world what was happening, human rights campaigners risking their lives in the face of terror, and the faces of the fishermen who found the bodies of 5 children caught in their fishing traps downstream from the massacre. The work ends with a prayer of mourning and a plea for forgiveness for our involvement.
I first became aware of the massacre while composing a choral work, Hay Días, a setting of a poem by Salvadoran journalist Jaime Suárez Quemain who was murdered by the same junta a few months later. The poem ends:
It is then, sir,
when the enemies of roofless children
walk silently
shadowed by the moonlight
and rap on the doors of angels
and take them away, bound,
to dig a grave
where flowers will grow.
(translated C. Alegría & D. Flakoll)
visit www.mooneast.com
Janus Mask (Orchestral)
for orchestra
Janus, the Roman god of gates and doorways, is portrayed in masks as having 2 faces, each pointing in the opposite direction. Liars and traitors are sometimes described as being Janus-faced because one is never sure which is the true face. Like the mask, this work is divided into two opposing sections. The first half of the work is an aggressive Allegro in which a series of increasingly powerful climaxes which finally explode and extinguish themselves in a furious culmination. The second half of the work, marked Lento desolato, is an incredibly slow and tortured progression. The work ends with a huge build toward a somewhat triumphant note, indicating a new beginning beyond the next gate.
In 2001, Justin Merritt, became the youngest-ever winner of the prestigious ASCAP Foundation/Rudolph Nissim award for Janus Mask.
visit www.mooneast.com
Janus, the Roman god of gates and doorways, is portrayed in masks as having 2 faces, each pointing in the opposite direction. Liars and traitors are sometimes described as being Janus-faced because one is never sure which is the true face. Like the mask, this work is divided into two opposing sections. The first half of the work is an aggressive Allegro in which a series of increasingly powerful climaxes which finally explode and extinguish themselves in a furious culmination. The second half of the work, marked Lento desolato, is an incredibly slow and tortured progression. The work ends with a huge build toward a somewhat triumphant note, indicating a new beginning beyond the next gate.
In 2001, Justin Merritt, became the youngest-ever winner of the prestigious ASCAP Foundation/Rudolph Nissim award for Janus Mask.
visit www.mooneast.com
Lachryme (String Orchestral)
for string orchestra
Lachryme is the 5th movement to a very large, as yet unfinished, symphony – Cosmonomicon. The symphony begins with the beginning of the universe, appropriately entitled Con fuoco (with fire). Unlike the glassily frozen beginning to the world depicted in Mahler’s first symphony or the majestic stability of the opening of Strauss’ Also sprach Zarathustra, Con fuco shows a world born of intense energy and chaos. This ball of heat cools in the second movement, Celestial mechanics, into a slowly rotating portrayal of the cosmos. Canti vivae moves closer to home, and in a simple but lively texture, it depicts the evolution of life on earth. Darkness creeps into the picture in Scherzo macabre (danse humana). The history of humankind through war & discord is recorded with dark humor.
Lachryme literally means tears, and this work was originally subtitled “weep for our souls.” This is the most personal of the five movements, and it reflects on how such a beautiful and awe-inspiring world can contain such misery and desolation. The final bars, however, point toward a different resolution.
The symphony ends with Adoramos, which expresses a final acceptance of our infinitesimally small place in the cosmos, and reflects how the fantastic size and sweep of the universe overwhelms our personal desires and pain. That a true internalization incredible smallness in the face of empty space, gives us a better understanding of God.
The movement that you will hear tonight, Lachyme, is deceptively lyrical and direct. It pushes the string orchestra to function as both an orchestra and as a very large chamber group. It is at times divided into as many as 16 parts and uses 10 different soloists. Its lyrical flexibility is, perhaps ironically, created by using precise and complex combinations of rhythm. At many points in the work parts of the ensemble are dividing the beat into 3 parts, while the remainder divide the beat into 4 parts. In addition, these divisions are further subdivided. However, rather than sounding merely chaotic, the result is an achingly intense stretching of the beat. I find these rhythms such as 4:3 that exist on the boundary between order and chaos to be both fantastically interesting and musically rich.
The harmony of this work is constructed using a new harmonic framework I’ve developed that utilizes harmonic circles other than the circle of 5ths to generate modes and harmonies. These circles are beautifully symmetrical, but yield rich and fascinating new harmonic motions.
visit www.mooneast.com
Lachryme is the 5th movement to a very large, as yet unfinished, symphony – Cosmonomicon. The symphony begins with the beginning of the universe, appropriately entitled Con fuoco (with fire). Unlike the glassily frozen beginning to the world depicted in Mahler’s first symphony or the majestic stability of the opening of Strauss’ Also sprach Zarathustra, Con fuco shows a world born of intense energy and chaos. This ball of heat cools in the second movement, Celestial mechanics, into a slowly rotating portrayal of the cosmos. Canti vivae moves closer to home, and in a simple but lively texture, it depicts the evolution of life on earth. Darkness creeps into the picture in Scherzo macabre (danse humana). The history of humankind through war & discord is recorded with dark humor.
Lachryme literally means tears, and this work was originally subtitled “weep for our souls.” This is the most personal of the five movements, and it reflects on how such a beautiful and awe-inspiring world can contain such misery and desolation. The final bars, however, point toward a different resolution.
The symphony ends with Adoramos, which expresses a final acceptance of our infinitesimally small place in the cosmos, and reflects how the fantastic size and sweep of the universe overwhelms our personal desires and pain. That a true internalization incredible smallness in the face of empty space, gives us a better understanding of God.
The movement that you will hear tonight, Lachyme, is deceptively lyrical and direct. It pushes the string orchestra to function as both an orchestra and as a very large chamber group. It is at times divided into as many as 16 parts and uses 10 different soloists. Its lyrical flexibility is, perhaps ironically, created by using precise and complex combinations of rhythm. At many points in the work parts of the ensemble are dividing the beat into 3 parts, while the remainder divide the beat into 4 parts. In addition, these divisions are further subdivided. However, rather than sounding merely chaotic, the result is an achingly intense stretching of the beat. I find these rhythms such as 4:3 that exist on the boundary between order and chaos to be both fantastically interesting and musically rich.
The harmony of this work is constructed using a new harmonic framework I’ve developed that utilizes harmonic circles other than the circle of 5ths to generate modes and harmonies. These circles are beautifully symmetrical, but yield rich and fascinating new harmonic motions.
visit www.mooneast.com
Monster (Orchestral)
for orchestra
Monster opens with a huge, slow-motion chorale accompanied by an intense percussion polyrhythm. The power of the opening is disrupted by a series of rough, highly rhythmic grooves. Rhythmic fragments flash back and forth from within the texture. This texture gives way to a persistent, comic ostinato in the bassoons. The piece erupts into an intense single-voice tutti toccata based on the bassoon ostinato. The sound of this toccata is based on organ registration, with shifting timbres and ever-present organum. The effect is like an enormous organ pulling out stops until it explodes into a muscular percussion break. While drums dominate, the tutti orchestral ensemble is also used as an additional percussion instrument. The break gives way to bursts of pp woodwind flurries. These flurries evolve into tutti scurries throughout the range of the entire orchestra. This builds to a giant restatement of the opening chorale with an intense percussion groove. This in turn culminates in a giant fff tutti trill.
The trill evaporates into the misty second section of the work. A high harmonics ostinato in the violins accompanies soulful melodies in the low strings. Woodwind fluttertongues and an arpeggiated flurry briefly disturb the placid texture. To this sound is added percussion metals all arco (with bows). This sound field, consisting of overlapping strings playing harmonics arpeggios, gives a glistening, sparkling sheen. The monster slowly recedes into blissful nothing.
visit www.mooneast.com
Monster opens with a huge, slow-motion chorale accompanied by an intense percussion polyrhythm. The power of the opening is disrupted by a series of rough, highly rhythmic grooves. Rhythmic fragments flash back and forth from within the texture. This texture gives way to a persistent, comic ostinato in the bassoons. The piece erupts into an intense single-voice tutti toccata based on the bassoon ostinato. The sound of this toccata is based on organ registration, with shifting timbres and ever-present organum. The effect is like an enormous organ pulling out stops until it explodes into a muscular percussion break. While drums dominate, the tutti orchestral ensemble is also used as an additional percussion instrument. The break gives way to bursts of pp woodwind flurries. These flurries evolve into tutti scurries throughout the range of the entire orchestra. This builds to a giant restatement of the opening chorale with an intense percussion groove. This in turn culminates in a giant fff tutti trill.
The trill evaporates into the misty second section of the work. A high harmonics ostinato in the violins accompanies soulful melodies in the low strings. Woodwind fluttertongues and an arpeggiated flurry briefly disturb the placid texture. To this sound is added percussion metals all arco (with bows). This sound field, consisting of overlapping strings playing harmonics arpeggios, gives a glistening, sparkling sheen. The monster slowly recedes into blissful nothing.
visit www.mooneast.com
Corde Natus (Choral)
for SATB choir a cappella
Corde natus ex parentis (Of the Father's Love Begotten) was commissioned by Scott MacPherson and the Vokalensemble Kölner Dom and premiered in the Cologne Cathedral. The text was written by Aurelius Clemens Prudentius (c.348 - c.413), a Roman judge. The principle melody, Divinum Mysterium, is from an 11th Century Sanctus trope. Both the text and tune are familiar as Christmas hymns.
I have tried to take my setting closer to its source than the typical hymn setting. The work opens with the tune sung as a chant in the sopranos. Slowly, the rest of the choir "picks up" individual pitches in the melody, as though there were a very selective reverb in the hall, forming a diatonic sheen around the melody. The second verse is set mostly in strict modal counterpoint among the upper voices, but the men sing in parallel 5ths, echoing early organum. Finally, the text, tune and choir are split into 4 soloists and multiple separate parts, each presenting small portions of the preceding counterpoint in overlapping waves.
Corde Natus ex Parentis
Corde natus ex parentis
ante mundi exordium
A et O cognominatus,
ipse fons et clausula
Omnium quae sunt, fuerunt,
quaeque post futura sunt.
Saeculorum saeculis.
O beatus ortus ille,
virgo cum puerpera
Edidit nostram salutem,
feta Sancto Spiritu,
Et puer redemptor
orbis os sacratum protulit.
Saeculorum saeculis
Of the Father's Heart Begotten
Of the Father's heart begotten,
ere the world from chaos rose,
he is Alpha, from that Fountain
all that is and hath been flows;
he is Omega, of all things
yet to come the mystic close,
evermore and evermore.
O how blest that wondrous birthday,
when the Maid the curse retrieved,
brought to birth mankind's salvation;
by the Holy Ghost conceived;
and the Babe, the world's Redeemer
in her loving arms received,
evermore and evermore..
visit www.mooneast.com
Corde natus ex parentis (Of the Father's Love Begotten) was commissioned by Scott MacPherson and the Vokalensemble Kölner Dom and premiered in the Cologne Cathedral. The text was written by Aurelius Clemens Prudentius (c.348 - c.413), a Roman judge. The principle melody, Divinum Mysterium, is from an 11th Century Sanctus trope. Both the text and tune are familiar as Christmas hymns.
I have tried to take my setting closer to its source than the typical hymn setting. The work opens with the tune sung as a chant in the sopranos. Slowly, the rest of the choir "picks up" individual pitches in the melody, as though there were a very selective reverb in the hall, forming a diatonic sheen around the melody. The second verse is set mostly in strict modal counterpoint among the upper voices, but the men sing in parallel 5ths, echoing early organum. Finally, the text, tune and choir are split into 4 soloists and multiple separate parts, each presenting small portions of the preceding counterpoint in overlapping waves.
Corde Natus ex Parentis
Corde natus ex parentis
ante mundi exordium
A et O cognominatus,
ipse fons et clausula
Omnium quae sunt, fuerunt,
quaeque post futura sunt.
Saeculorum saeculis.
O beatus ortus ille,
virgo cum puerpera
Edidit nostram salutem,
feta Sancto Spiritu,
Et puer redemptor
orbis os sacratum protulit.
Saeculorum saeculis
Of the Father's Heart Begotten
Of the Father's heart begotten,
ere the world from chaos rose,
he is Alpha, from that Fountain
all that is and hath been flows;
he is Omega, of all things
yet to come the mystic close,
evermore and evermore.
O how blest that wondrous birthday,
when the Maid the curse retrieved,
brought to birth mankind's salvation;
by the Holy Ghost conceived;
and the Babe, the world's Redeemer
in her loving arms received,
evermore and evermore..
visit www.mooneast.com
Lamentations (Choral)
for SATB choir a cappella
O Lord
He hath led me, and brought me into darkness
Surely against me is he turned
He turneth his hand against me
My flesh and my skin hath he made old
He hath broken my bones
Also when I cry and shout, he shutteth out my prayer
He hath inclosed my ways with hewn stone
He hath made my paths crooked
He hath turned aside my ways, and pulled me in pieces
He hath made me desolate
He hath filled me with bitterness
He hath broken my teeth with gravel stones
He hath covered me with ashes
Their heart cried unto the Lord,
let tears run down like a river day and night:
Arise, cry out in the night:
lift up thy hands toward him for the life of thy young children,
that faint for hunger in the top of every street.
Thou, O Lord, remainest for ever;
thy throne from generation to generation.
Wherefore dost thou forget us for ever,
and forsake us so long time?
visit www.mooneast.com
O Lord
He hath led me, and brought me into darkness
Surely against me is he turned
He turneth his hand against me
My flesh and my skin hath he made old
He hath broken my bones
Also when I cry and shout, he shutteth out my prayer
He hath inclosed my ways with hewn stone
He hath made my paths crooked
He hath turned aside my ways, and pulled me in pieces
He hath made me desolate
He hath filled me with bitterness
He hath broken my teeth with gravel stones
He hath covered me with ashes
Their heart cried unto the Lord,
let tears run down like a river day and night:
Arise, cry out in the night:
lift up thy hands toward him for the life of thy young children,
that faint for hunger in the top of every street.
Thou, O Lord, remainest for ever;
thy throne from generation to generation.
Wherefore dost thou forget us for ever,
and forsake us so long time?
visit www.mooneast.com
Fire Sermon (Choral)
for SSATB choir & orchestra
The Fire Sermon was the third of the three cardinal discourses of the Buddha. In the first two, the Buddha set out his basic teachings to a small group of fellow spiritual seekers. But the third was delivered to a crowd of 1000 fire-worshiping ascetics. In this sermon, the Buddha turns the image of fire into a metaphor for the suffering caused by craving and clinging. He exhorts the crowd to give up desire and to find the end of suffering through dispassion, to release the heart from greed, hatred, and delusion.
visit www.mooneast.com
The Fire Sermon was the third of the three cardinal discourses of the Buddha. In the first two, the Buddha set out his basic teachings to a small group of fellow spiritual seekers. But the third was delivered to a crowd of 1000 fire-worshiping ascetics. In this sermon, the Buddha turns the image of fire into a metaphor for the suffering caused by craving and clinging. He exhorts the crowd to give up desire and to find the end of suffering through dispassion, to release the heart from greed, hatred, and delusion.
visit www.mooneast.com
Hay Días (Choral)
for SMsATBrB choir a cappella
Jaime Quemain was the editor of an independent newspaper in San Salvador. In 1980 he was arrested by plainclothes men in a cafe. The next day his dead body was found on the street tortured and mutilated with a machete. He was 30. He was almost certainly murdered by paramilitary death squads associated with the Salvadoran army. He was killed at almost the same time and place as the more well known Archbishop Oscar Arnulfo Romero, who assassinated by Rafael Alvaro Saravia while celebrating mass on Monday, March 24, 1980.
Hay Días is not a poem of political protest. Rather it is a poem expressing the lives of the people during a time of violence and upheaval. This work has moments of dread and visions of death, moments of red-blooded exuberance, and a reminder of the power of crowds to strive for change amid violence and repression. This idea of cycles is expressed by the four stanzas of the poem roughly corresponding to the four seasons of the year: winter/death, spring/sex, summer/heat and violence, and a return to darkness and fear. The piece expresses this by a subtle harmonic progression that leads, over the course of the work, through all 12 key areas before returning to the original c# minor/A Lydian at the close. The poem ends with hope amid terror, the image of a flower growing from a grave. In a final ironic twist, the last bittersweet word of the poem, “flores” (flower), is the name of the right wing Arenero President Francisco Flores who ruled El Salvador from 1999-2004.
This work was composed as a part of The Esoteric’s Polyphonos Competition, polyphonos meaning, “having many voices or manifold in expression.” I was inspired by this idea of many voices to create a work in which each of the many voices within the choir would have a chance to be heard individually. This work features a profusion of intertwining solos and extremely divided textures.
Hay Días
Hay días, señor
en que San Salvador se llena
de sombras y de miedo
y sus calles angostas parecen
cementerios cubiertos de ceniza
y creemos que un niño
la muchacha
el amigo
marchan a nuestro lado
y son simples fantasmas
vagas sombras que sueñan
sienten hambre
defecan...
Hay días, señor,
en que San Salvador se llena
de estupendas mujeres
que con su movimiento
nos incendian el sexo...
el amor es un niño
volando su piscucha
o una pareja
contemplando vitrinas:
el amor se da por canastadas.
Pero hay otros días, señor,
En que San Salvador despierta
De su santa paciencia
Y vemos muchachos y obreros
Que salen a la calle
A gritar su iracundia
A dejar su protesta
Dibujada con sangre
sobre el pavimento
A gritar sus canciones
Sus poemas
Sus sueños...
Es entonces, señor,
Cuando los enemigos
De los niños sin techo
Caminan silenciosos
Sombreados por la luna
Y golpean las puertas de los ángeles
Y los sacan atados a cavar una fosa
Donde crecerán flores.
-Jaime Suárez Quemain
There are Days
There are days, sir,
in which San Salvador is filled
with shadows and fear
and its narrow streets resemble
ash-covered cemeteries
and we think that a child
a girl
a friend
walks beside us
and they are simply phantoms
vague shadows that dream
feel hunger
defecate…
There are days, sir,
in which San Salvador is filled
with stupendous women
whose movements
inflame our sex…
Love is a little boy
Flying his kite
or a couple
window-shopping:
there are basketsful of love.
But there are other days, sir,
in which San Salvador arouses
from its saintly patience
and we see youths and workers
take the streets
to shout in anger
to leave their protest
painted in blood
on the pavement
to shout their songs
their poems
their dreams…
It is then, sir,
when the enemies of roofless children
walk silently
shadowed by the moonlight
and rap on the doors of angels
and take them away, bound,
to dig a grave
where flowers will grow.
-Jaime Suárez Quemain
(translated by the Claribel Alegría & Darwin J. Flakoll)
visit www.mooneast.com
Jaime Quemain was the editor of an independent newspaper in San Salvador. In 1980 he was arrested by plainclothes men in a cafe. The next day his dead body was found on the street tortured and mutilated with a machete. He was 30. He was almost certainly murdered by paramilitary death squads associated with the Salvadoran army. He was killed at almost the same time and place as the more well known Archbishop Oscar Arnulfo Romero, who assassinated by Rafael Alvaro Saravia while celebrating mass on Monday, March 24, 1980.Hay Días is not a poem of political protest. Rather it is a poem expressing the lives of the people during a time of violence and upheaval. This work has moments of dread and visions of death, moments of red-blooded exuberance, and a reminder of the power of crowds to strive for change amid violence and repression. This idea of cycles is expressed by the four stanzas of the poem roughly corresponding to the four seasons of the year: winter/death, spring/sex, summer/heat and violence, and a return to darkness and fear. The piece expresses this by a subtle harmonic progression that leads, over the course of the work, through all 12 key areas before returning to the original c# minor/A Lydian at the close. The poem ends with hope amid terror, the image of a flower growing from a grave. In a final ironic twist, the last bittersweet word of the poem, “flores” (flower), is the name of the right wing Arenero President Francisco Flores who ruled El Salvador from 1999-2004.
This work was composed as a part of The Esoteric’s Polyphonos Competition, polyphonos meaning, “having many voices or manifold in expression.” I was inspired by this idea of many voices to create a work in which each of the many voices within the choir would have a chance to be heard individually. This work features a profusion of intertwining solos and extremely divided textures.
Hay Días
Hay días, señor
en que San Salvador se llena
de sombras y de miedo
y sus calles angostas parecen
cementerios cubiertos de ceniza
y creemos que un niño
la muchacha
el amigo
marchan a nuestro lado
y son simples fantasmas
vagas sombras que sueñan
sienten hambre
defecan...
Hay días, señor,
en que San Salvador se llena
de estupendas mujeres
que con su movimiento
nos incendian el sexo...
el amor es un niño
volando su piscucha
o una pareja
contemplando vitrinas:
el amor se da por canastadas.
Pero hay otros días, señor,
En que San Salvador despierta
De su santa paciencia
Y vemos muchachos y obreros
Que salen a la calle
A gritar su iracundia
A dejar su protesta
Dibujada con sangre
sobre el pavimento
A gritar sus canciones
Sus poemas
Sus sueños...
Es entonces, señor,
Cuando los enemigos
De los niños sin techo
Caminan silenciosos
Sombreados por la luna
Y golpean las puertas de los ángeles
Y los sacan atados a cavar una fosa
Donde crecerán flores.
-Jaime Suárez Quemain
There are Days
There are days, sir,
in which San Salvador is filled
with shadows and fear
and its narrow streets resemble
ash-covered cemeteries
and we think that a child
a girl
a friend
walks beside us
and they are simply phantoms
vague shadows that dream
feel hunger
defecate…
There are days, sir,
in which San Salvador is filled
with stupendous women
whose movements
inflame our sex…
Love is a little boy
Flying his kite
or a couple
window-shopping:
there are basketsful of love.
But there are other days, sir,
in which San Salvador arouses
from its saintly patience
and we see youths and workers
take the streets
to shout in anger
to leave their protest
painted in blood
on the pavement
to shout their songs
their poems
their dreams…
It is then, sir,
when the enemies of roofless children
walk silently
shadowed by the moonlight
and rap on the doors of angels
and take them away, bound,
to dig a grave
where flowers will grow.
-Jaime Suárez Quemain
(translated by the Claribel Alegría & Darwin J. Flakoll)
visit www.mooneast.com
Adoro Te Devote (Choral)
for SATB choir a cappella
One of the five hymns St. Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274) composed for Pope Urban IV (1261-1264) when he first established the Feast of Corpus Christi in 1264. The hymn is found in the Roman Missal as a prayer of thanksgiving.
ADORO te devote, latens Deitas,
quae sub his figuris vere latitas:
tibi se cor meum totum subiicit,
quia te contemplans totum deficit.
Iesu, quem velatum nunc aspicio,
oro fiat illud quod tam sitio;
ut te revelata cernens facie,
visu sim beatus tuae gloriae.
Amen.
-St. Thomas Aquinas.
HIDDEN God, devoutly I adore Thee,
truly present underneath these veils:
all my heart subdues itself before Thee,
since it all before Thee faints and fails.
Contemplating, God, Thy hidden presence,
grant me what I thirst for and implore,
in the revelation of Thy essence
to behold Thy glory evermore.
Amen.
-Translation by John O'Hagan (1822-1890).
visit www.mooneast.com
One of the five hymns St. Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274) composed for Pope Urban IV (1261-1264) when he first established the Feast of Corpus Christi in 1264. The hymn is found in the Roman Missal as a prayer of thanksgiving.
ADORO te devote, latens Deitas,
quae sub his figuris vere latitas:
tibi se cor meum totum subiicit,
quia te contemplans totum deficit.
Iesu, quem velatum nunc aspicio,
oro fiat illud quod tam sitio;
ut te revelata cernens facie,
visu sim beatus tuae gloriae.
Amen.
-St. Thomas Aquinas.
HIDDEN God, devoutly I adore Thee,
truly present underneath these veils:
all my heart subdues itself before Thee,
since it all before Thee faints and fails.
Contemplating, God, Thy hidden presence,
grant me what I thirst for and implore,
in the revelation of Thy essence
to behold Thy glory evermore.
Amen.
-Translation by John O'Hagan (1822-1890).
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Inferno (Band)
for band
Part I: Abandon All Hope
The Panther, the Lion, & the Wolf
The Styx
Part II: Upper Hell
3-Headed Hell-Hound
Minos the Bull
Dark Winds
Part III: City of Dis
Furies at the Gates
City of Coffins
Part IV: Descent into the Abyss
River of Boiling Blood
Beneath the Frozen Swamp
The Abyss
Part V: Easter Morning
Among American libraries, the most widely held texts (as of 2004) were The U.S. Census, the Bible, and Mother Goose. However, the fourth, edging out Shakespeare, is Dante’s Divine Comedy. Referring to the Inferno (the first third of the Comedy), Jacques Barzun notes, “Remember that he [Dante] wrote a pamphleteering poem in which, as a wandering exile, he damned [quite literally] his political and personal enemies, extolled friends, and put forth dogmas by no means all orthodox.” For example, he was probably the first to put into print the idea that a pope (actually several popes) wound up in hell. Dante tried to remake history and faith in this world with his vision of the afterworld.
Inferno begins with Dante having wandered thoughtlessly away from the true path. However, when he tries to return, he is driven to the gates of hell by a panther, a lion, & a she-wolf. In this work (somewhat departing from Dante but closer to more ancient accounts of hell) we enter hell by traveling down the Styx, a marsh-like river full of disconsolate shades. There we hear the moans of lost souls and the growls of the beasts below echoing down the rock corridors.
Part II begins with another set of threes, the 3-headed hell-hound Cerberus. We hear the barks and screams of animal violence from each of his mouths. Minos, a half bull and half man, is a sort of Satanic St. Peter who judges the sinful and sends the to their proper circle by twisting his tail around his body the corresponding number of times. The hurricane of Dark Winds is end for those with uncontrollable desire. Dante expressed great compassion for these poor souls (especially Francesca Rimini and Paolo) who suffered in death as they suffered in life from their love. This movement is built not from melodies but from wildly rushing scales with each instrument playing as fast as they possibly can, regardless of the speed of the rest of the ensemble.
Three furies guard the gates of the City of Dis (City of Sin). Their wails are as much in agony as in aggression, as they are the daughters of the Queen of Everlasting Lamentation. In this Inferno, the City of Coffins has been reinterpreted as the fate of Ideologues (rather than simply heretics). There are centuries-old methods for encrypting messages (and often names) into the fabric of music. Using these methods and some of my own devising, I have consigned a few dozen friends, enemies, and persons of note to their rightful ends. Not a few living political figures have a spot reserved for them in the City of Coffins.
A River of Boiling Blood torments the violent and the bloodthirsty. An army of demonic archers forbids them from escaping or easing their torture. This movement begins with one of the more memorable lines from the Comedy, “And he [the chief demon] made a trumpet of his rear end.” Canto XXI, line 138.
The bottommost circles of hell are not fire but ice, beginning with the frozen swamp Cocytus. This swamp is not completely frozen but rather thick, icy sludge, queasily undulating, with occasional bubbles from the sighs of the submerged ghouls murkily breaking the surface. Departing again from Dante, I portray the center of hell not as a massive three-headed worm but as the complete absence of God. This final canto of the Inferno begins with a mocking quotation from a Latin hymn “Vexilla Regis.” The original hymn, composed to celebrate the arrival of a fragment of the true cross to Poitiers, France, begins, “The banners of the king come forth. The mystery of the cross shines out.” In Dante’s rendering it becomes, “The banners come forth of the King of Hell.”
The music for Vexilla Regis occurs in different guises throughout the work, but the original tune isn’t heard until the very end of Easter Sunday. This final section begins with a depiction of the waves of Lethe, the River of Forgetfulness, which flows from the summit of the mountain of Purgatory to feed the four rivers of the Inferno. The Inferno ends with Dante emerging from hell to “once again behold the stars.”
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Part I: Abandon All Hope
The Panther, the Lion, & the Wolf
The Styx
Part II: Upper Hell
3-Headed Hell-Hound
Minos the Bull
Dark Winds
Part III: City of Dis
Furies at the Gates
City of Coffins
Part IV: Descent into the Abyss
River of Boiling Blood
Beneath the Frozen Swamp
The Abyss
Part V: Easter Morning
Among American libraries, the most widely held texts (as of 2004) were The U.S. Census, the Bible, and Mother Goose. However, the fourth, edging out Shakespeare, is Dante’s Divine Comedy. Referring to the Inferno (the first third of the Comedy), Jacques Barzun notes, “Remember that he [Dante] wrote a pamphleteering poem in which, as a wandering exile, he damned [quite literally] his political and personal enemies, extolled friends, and put forth dogmas by no means all orthodox.” For example, he was probably the first to put into print the idea that a pope (actually several popes) wound up in hell. Dante tried to remake history and faith in this world with his vision of the afterworld.
Inferno begins with Dante having wandered thoughtlessly away from the true path. However, when he tries to return, he is driven to the gates of hell by a panther, a lion, & a she-wolf. In this work (somewhat departing from Dante but closer to more ancient accounts of hell) we enter hell by traveling down the Styx, a marsh-like river full of disconsolate shades. There we hear the moans of lost souls and the growls of the beasts below echoing down the rock corridors.
Part II begins with another set of threes, the 3-headed hell-hound Cerberus. We hear the barks and screams of animal violence from each of his mouths. Minos, a half bull and half man, is a sort of Satanic St. Peter who judges the sinful and sends the to their proper circle by twisting his tail around his body the corresponding number of times. The hurricane of Dark Winds is end for those with uncontrollable desire. Dante expressed great compassion for these poor souls (especially Francesca Rimini and Paolo) who suffered in death as they suffered in life from their love. This movement is built not from melodies but from wildly rushing scales with each instrument playing as fast as they possibly can, regardless of the speed of the rest of the ensemble.
Three furies guard the gates of the City of Dis (City of Sin). Their wails are as much in agony as in aggression, as they are the daughters of the Queen of Everlasting Lamentation. In this Inferno, the City of Coffins has been reinterpreted as the fate of Ideologues (rather than simply heretics). There are centuries-old methods for encrypting messages (and often names) into the fabric of music. Using these methods and some of my own devising, I have consigned a few dozen friends, enemies, and persons of note to their rightful ends. Not a few living political figures have a spot reserved for them in the City of Coffins.
A River of Boiling Blood torments the violent and the bloodthirsty. An army of demonic archers forbids them from escaping or easing their torture. This movement begins with one of the more memorable lines from the Comedy, “And he [the chief demon] made a trumpet of his rear end.” Canto XXI, line 138.
The bottommost circles of hell are not fire but ice, beginning with the frozen swamp Cocytus. This swamp is not completely frozen but rather thick, icy sludge, queasily undulating, with occasional bubbles from the sighs of the submerged ghouls murkily breaking the surface. Departing again from Dante, I portray the center of hell not as a massive three-headed worm but as the complete absence of God. This final canto of the Inferno begins with a mocking quotation from a Latin hymn “Vexilla Regis.” The original hymn, composed to celebrate the arrival of a fragment of the true cross to Poitiers, France, begins, “The banners of the king come forth. The mystery of the cross shines out.” In Dante’s rendering it becomes, “The banners come forth of the King of Hell.”
The music for Vexilla Regis occurs in different guises throughout the work, but the original tune isn’t heard until the very end of Easter Sunday. This final section begins with a depiction of the waves of Lethe, the River of Forgetfulness, which flows from the summit of the mountain of Purgatory to feed the four rivers of the Inferno. The Inferno ends with Dante emerging from hell to “once again behold the stars.”
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May Evening in Central Park (Vocal)
for baritone voice & piano
Lines of lamp-light
Splinter the black water,
And all through
The dim park
Are lamps
Hanging among the trees.
But they are only like fire-flies
Pricking the darkness,
And I lean my body against it
And spread out my fingers
To let it drift through them.
I am a swimmer
In the damp night,
Or a bird
Floating over the sucking grasses.
I am a lover
Tracking the silver foot-prints
Of the moon.
I am a young man,
In Central Park,
With Spring
Bursting over me.
The trees push out their young leaves,
Although this is not the country;
And I whisper beautiful, hot words,
Although I am alone,
And a few more steps
Will bring me
The glare and suffocation
Of bright streets.
-Amy Lowell
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Lines of lamp-light
Splinter the black water,
And all through
The dim park
Are lamps
Hanging among the trees.
But they are only like fire-flies
Pricking the darkness,
And I lean my body against it
And spread out my fingers
To let it drift through them.
I am a swimmer
In the damp night,
Or a bird
Floating over the sucking grasses.
I am a lover
Tracking the silver foot-prints
Of the moon.
I am a young man,
In Central Park,
With Spring
Bursting over me.
The trees push out their young leaves,
Although this is not the country;
And I whisper beautiful, hot words,
Although I am alone,
And a few more steps
Will bring me
The glare and suffocation
Of bright streets.
-Amy Lowell
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Aviary (Vocal)
for baritone voice & piano
Penguins
Penguins penguins penguins penguins
Penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins
Penguins
Penguins
Penguins
Penguins penguins penguins penguins
Penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins
Penguins
Penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins
Penguins penguins penguins penguins
and Penguins
Penguins
Penguins
-Percy Greengulch
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Penguins
Penguins penguins penguins penguins
Penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins
Penguins
Penguins
Penguins
Penguins penguins penguins penguins
Penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins
Penguins
Penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins penguins
Penguins penguins penguins penguins
and Penguins
Penguins
Penguins
-Percy Greengulch
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Dhammapada (Vocal)
for baritone voice & piano
An Ancient Truth
All experience is preceded by mind,
Led by mind,
Made by mind,
Speak or act with a peaceful mind,
And happiness follows
Like a never-departing shadow.
“He abused me, attacked me,
Defeated me, robbed me!”
For those carrying on like this,
Hatred does not end.
“She abused me, attacked me,
Defeated me, robbed me!”
For those not carrying on like this,
Hatred ends.
Hatred never ends through hatred.
By non-hate alone does it end.
This is an ancient truth.
Many do not realize that
We must die.
For those who realize this,
Quarrels end.
Violence
All tremble at violence;
All fear death.
Seeing others as being like yourself,
Do not kill or cause others to kill.
All tremble at violence;
Life is dear for all.
Seeing others as being like yourself,
Do not kill or cause others to kill.
No Happiness Higher Than Peace
Victory gives birth to hate;
The defeated sleep in anguish.
Giving up both victory and defeat,
Those who have attained peace sleep happily.
There is no fire like lust,
No misfortune like hate,
No suffering like the aggregates,
And no happiness higher than peace.
Tasting the flavor
Of solitude and peace,
One becomes free of distress and evil,
Drinking the flavor of Dhamma joy.
-trans. Gil Fronsdal
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An Ancient Truth
All experience is preceded by mind,
Led by mind,
Made by mind,
Speak or act with a peaceful mind,
And happiness follows
Like a never-departing shadow.
“He abused me, attacked me,
Defeated me, robbed me!”
For those carrying on like this,
Hatred does not end.
“She abused me, attacked me,
Defeated me, robbed me!”
For those not carrying on like this,
Hatred ends.
Hatred never ends through hatred.
By non-hate alone does it end.
This is an ancient truth.
Many do not realize that
We must die.
For those who realize this,
Quarrels end.
Violence
All tremble at violence;
All fear death.
Seeing others as being like yourself,
Do not kill or cause others to kill.
All tremble at violence;
Life is dear for all.
Seeing others as being like yourself,
Do not kill or cause others to kill.
No Happiness Higher Than Peace
Victory gives birth to hate;
The defeated sleep in anguish.
Giving up both victory and defeat,
Those who have attained peace sleep happily.
There is no fire like lust,
No misfortune like hate,
No suffering like the aggregates,
And no happiness higher than peace.
Tasting the flavor
Of solitude and peace,
One becomes free of distress and evil,
Drinking the flavor of Dhamma joy.
-trans. Gil Fronsdal
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Dissonance (Vocal)
for baritone voice & piano
Epithalamium in the Modern Manner
The round, red moon ran a level eye along the hayfield,
Appraising conditions with a view to possibilities.
It was the moon’s business to see that the shadows of the cocks
were of sufficient size,
As a preliminary to the seasonal arrival of the next generation.
“To one enamored of dragonflies,
What is a chip hat with a ribbon round it?
To one engrossed in a game of cribbage,
What is the importance of the Treaty of Ghent?”
Which shows that Archibald was in a naughty humour,
And Joanna more than usually occupied with the counting of
grass-blades.
The moon caught them in her long orange arms
And jostled them tighter with so thorough a completeness
That they fell, giggling, into a haycock shadow,
As perfect a pair of young animals as need be
For the maintenance of the species man on an ant-corroded
planet.
Dissonance
From my window I can see the moon-light stroking the smooth
surface of the river.
The trees are silent, there is no wind.
Admirable pre-Raphaelite landscape,
Lightly touched with ebony and silver.
I alone am out of keeping:
An angry red gash
Proclaiming the restlessness
Of an incongruous century.
The Sixteenth Floor
The noise of the city sounds below me.
It clashes against the houses
And rises like smoke through the narrow streets.
It polishes the marble fronts of houses,
Grating itself against them,
And they shine in the lamplight
And cast their echoes back upon the asphalt of the streets.
But I hear no sound of your voice,
The city is incoherent – trivial,
And my brain aches with emptiness.
Threnody
On an evening of black snow
I walked along the causeway,
Wishing that I too might melt
Between the agitated fingers
Of a stuttering, intolerable sea.
Ephemera
Silver-green lanterns tossing among windy braches:
So an old man thinks
Of the loves of his youth.
-Amy Lowell
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Epithalamium in the Modern Manner
The round, red moon ran a level eye along the hayfield,
Appraising conditions with a view to possibilities.
It was the moon’s business to see that the shadows of the cocks
were of sufficient size,
As a preliminary to the seasonal arrival of the next generation.
“To one enamored of dragonflies,
What is a chip hat with a ribbon round it?
To one engrossed in a game of cribbage,
What is the importance of the Treaty of Ghent?”
Which shows that Archibald was in a naughty humour,
And Joanna more than usually occupied with the counting of
grass-blades.
The moon caught them in her long orange arms
And jostled them tighter with so thorough a completeness
That they fell, giggling, into a haycock shadow,
As perfect a pair of young animals as need be
For the maintenance of the species man on an ant-corroded
planet.
Dissonance
From my window I can see the moon-light stroking the smooth
surface of the river.
The trees are silent, there is no wind.
Admirable pre-Raphaelite landscape,
Lightly touched with ebony and silver.
I alone am out of keeping:
An angry red gash
Proclaiming the restlessness
Of an incongruous century.
The Sixteenth Floor
The noise of the city sounds below me.
It clashes against the houses
And rises like smoke through the narrow streets.
It polishes the marble fronts of houses,
Grating itself against them,
And they shine in the lamplight
And cast their echoes back upon the asphalt of the streets.
But I hear no sound of your voice,
The city is incoherent – trivial,
And my brain aches with emptiness.
Threnody
On an evening of black snow
I walked along the causeway,
Wishing that I too might melt
Between the agitated fingers
Of a stuttering, intolerable sea.
Ephemera
Silver-green lanterns tossing among windy braches:
So an old man thinks
Of the loves of his youth.
-Amy Lowell
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London Thoroughfare, 2AM (Vocal)
for tenor, horn, violin, & piano
They have watered the street,
It shines in the glare of lamps,
Cold, white lamps,
And lies
Like a slow-moving river,
Barred with silver and black.
Cabs go down it,
One,
And then another.
Between them I hear the shuffling of feet.
Tramps doze on the window-ledges,
Night-walkers pass along the sidewalks.
The city is squalid and sinister,
With the silver-barred street in the midst,
Slow-moving,
A river leading nowhere.
Opposite my window,
The moon cuts,
Clear and round,
Through the plum-coloured night.
She cannot light the city;
It is too bright.
It has white lamps,
And glitters coldly.
I stand in the window and watch the moon.
She is thin and lustreless,
But I love her.
I know the moon,
And this is an alien city.
-Amy Lowell
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They have watered the street,
It shines in the glare of lamps,
Cold, white lamps,
And lies
Like a slow-moving river,
Barred with silver and black.
Cabs go down it,
One,
And then another.
Between them I hear the shuffling of feet.
Tramps doze on the window-ledges,
Night-walkers pass along the sidewalks.
The city is squalid and sinister,
With the silver-barred street in the midst,
Slow-moving,
A river leading nowhere.
Opposite my window,
The moon cuts,
Clear and round,
Through the plum-coloured night.
She cannot light the city;
It is too bright.
It has white lamps,
And glitters coldly.
I stand in the window and watch the moon.
She is thin and lustreless,
But I love her.
I know the moon,
And this is an alien city.
-Amy Lowell
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Sunshine (Vocal)
for 2 sopranos, piano, and strings
The pool is edged with the blade-like leaves of irises.
If I throw a stone into the placid water
It suddenly stiffens into rings and wings
Of sharp gold wire.
-Amy Lowell (1874-1925)
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The pool is edged with the blade-like leaves of irises.
If I throw a stone into the placid water
It suddenly stiffens into rings and wings
Of sharp gold wire.
-Amy Lowell (1874-1925)
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November & Triad (Vocal)
for baritone voice, clarinet, & harp
Triad
These be
Three silent things:
The falling snow…the hour
Before the dawn…the mouth of one
Just dead.
-Adelaide Crapsey
November Night
Listen…
With faint dry sound,
Like steps of passing ghosts,
The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break from the trees
And fall.
-Adelaide Crapsey
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Triad
These be
Three silent things:
The falling snow…the hour
Before the dawn…the mouth of one
Just dead.
-Adelaide Crapsey
November Night
Listen…
With faint dry sound,
Like steps of passing ghosts,
The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break from the trees
And fall.
-Adelaide Crapsey
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On Seeing Weather-Beaten Trees (Vocal)
for baritone voice & viola
Is it plainly in our living shown,
By slant and twist, which way the wind hath blown?
- Adelaide Crapsey
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Is it plainly in our living shown,
By slant and twist, which way the wind hath blown?
- Adelaide Crapsey
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Steps Into Stillness (Vocal)
for baritone voice & piano
Whispered in the Afternoon
Autumn sun, thin and pale,
And fruit falls from the trees.
Silence lives in the blue
Of a long afternoon.
Dying sounds of metal;
And a white animal falls dead.
Crude songs of brown girls
Blown in the drifting leaves.
Mind of God colors dreams,
Feels madness’ gentle wings.
Shadows swirl around the hill
Of blackening decay.
Twilight of rest and wine.
Sad guitars drizzle night
And to the mellow lamp inside
You turn as in a dream.
In Winter
When the snow falls against the window,
Long sounds the evening bells,
The table is set for many
And the house is well prepared.
Some on the journey
Come to the gate on dark paths.
Golden is the tree of grace
Flowering from the earth’s cool sap.
The wanderer steps into stillness:
Anguish wears the threshold down to stone.
But in the pure, shimmering light
On the table are bread and wine.
Rondeau
Passing is the gold of the day,
The evening’s browns and blues:
The shepherd’s gentle flute has died
The evening’s blues and browns:
Passing is the gold of the day.
Closing Chord
The last, pale light went from the day,
The early passions have rustled down,
The holy wine of my joys spilled
Now my heart weeps in the night and listens
After the echo of its young celebrations,
Which trails off so placidly in the dark,
So shadowy, like wilted leaves falling
On an abandoned grave in autumn night.
-Georg Trakl
trans. Lawrence Lacing
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Whispered in the Afternoon
Autumn sun, thin and pale,
And fruit falls from the trees.
Silence lives in the blue
Of a long afternoon.
Dying sounds of metal;
And a white animal falls dead.
Crude songs of brown girls
Blown in the drifting leaves.
Mind of God colors dreams,
Feels madness’ gentle wings.
Shadows swirl around the hill
Of blackening decay.
Twilight of rest and wine.
Sad guitars drizzle night
And to the mellow lamp inside
You turn as in a dream.
In Winter
When the snow falls against the window,
Long sounds the evening bells,
The table is set for many
And the house is well prepared.
Some on the journey
Come to the gate on dark paths.
Golden is the tree of grace
Flowering from the earth’s cool sap.
The wanderer steps into stillness:
Anguish wears the threshold down to stone.
But in the pure, shimmering light
On the table are bread and wine.
Rondeau
Passing is the gold of the day,
The evening’s browns and blues:
The shepherd’s gentle flute has died
The evening’s blues and browns:
Passing is the gold of the day.
Closing Chord
The last, pale light went from the day,
The early passions have rustled down,
The holy wine of my joys spilled
Now my heart weeps in the night and listens
After the echo of its young celebrations,
Which trails off so placidly in the dark,
So shadowy, like wilted leaves falling
On an abandoned grave in autumn night.
-Georg Trakl
trans. Lawrence Lacing
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The Bookshop (Vocal)
for baritone voice, clarinet, & piano
Pierrot had grown old.
He wore spectacles
And kept a shop.
Opium and hellebore
He sold
Between the covers of books,
And perfumes distilled from the veins of old ivory,
And poisons drawn from lotus seeds one hundred years withered
And thinned to the translucence of alabaster.
He sang a pale song of repeated cadenzas
In a voice cold as flutes
And shrill as desiccated violins.
I stood before the shop,
Fingering the comfortable vellum of an ancient volume,
Turning over its leaves,
And the dead moon looked over my shoulder
And fell with a green smoothness upon the page.
I read:
“I am the Lord thy God, thou shalt have none other goods but me.”
Through the door came a chuckle of laughter
Like the tapping of unstrung kettledrums,
For Pierrot had ceased singing for a moment
To watch me reading.
-Amy Lowell
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Pierrot had grown old.
He wore spectacles
And kept a shop.
Opium and hellebore
He sold
Between the covers of books,
And perfumes distilled from the veins of old ivory,
And poisons drawn from lotus seeds one hundred years withered
And thinned to the translucence of alabaster.
He sang a pale song of repeated cadenzas
In a voice cold as flutes
And shrill as desiccated violins.
I stood before the shop,
Fingering the comfortable vellum of an ancient volume,
Turning over its leaves,
And the dead moon looked over my shoulder
And fell with a green smoothness upon the page.
I read:
“I am the Lord thy God, thou shalt have none other goods but me.”
Through the door came a chuckle of laughter
Like the tapping of unstrung kettledrums,
For Pierrot had ceased singing for a moment
To watch me reading.
-Amy Lowell
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5 Preludes (Piano)
for piano
5 Preludes is a collection of short character pieces for piano. The first prelude is a highly virtuosic, chromatic fantasy. The next movement sounds as though 3 sets of distant monastery bells were ringing at different speeds in the distance. The middle piece is a high-speed toccata with such rapid changes, it is as though it were a much longer piece compressed into a couple of minutes. The penultimate prelude sounds begins with a series of bright sparkling gestures. The central section has two floating lines at different speeds, as though the notes are smeared across the texture. The final prelude is a rhythmic, rock-inspired allegro. The difficulty and insistent nature of the work lend it the sound of a piano-roll piece.
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5 Preludes is a collection of short character pieces for piano. The first prelude is a highly virtuosic, chromatic fantasy. The next movement sounds as though 3 sets of distant monastery bells were ringing at different speeds in the distance. The middle piece is a high-speed toccata with such rapid changes, it is as though it were a much longer piece compressed into a couple of minutes. The penultimate prelude sounds begins with a series of bright sparkling gestures. The central section has two floating lines at different speeds, as though the notes are smeared across the texture. The final prelude is a rhythmic, rock-inspired allegro. The difficulty and insistent nature of the work lend it the sound of a piano-roll piece.
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Sonata "Liber Universalis" (Piano)
for piano
Also known, for obvious reasons, as the Sierpenski Triangle, the Sierpenski Gasket was first described by Waclaw Sierpenski (1882-1920) in 1902. It is related to the so-called Monster Curves because it has finite area but infinite perimeter. For years, mathematicians considered these shapes to be annoying curiosities but eventually they became a sort of grandfather to all fractal geometry. The shape includes delicately interspersed triangles-within-triangles, and the repeating (iterative) patterns continues “downward” as though your point-of-view could spiral down to infinity. With each spiral, more detail is revealed. Sierpenski Gaskets are formed as seen below.
They are also very similar to the four-sided Sierpenski Carpet and the 3-dimensional Sierpenski Pyramid.
This piece is based on variations of the basic Sierpenski Gasket as sketched by myself and others. The most important sketch is represented on the cover (computer graphics by Yuedong Merritt). The form of this piece represents a trip downward through the top triangle, with each repetition of material 1/3 smaller and tighter. In a sense, the piece is a Prelude, Toccata, & Rhapsody in 3 1/3 iterations. The first section (repeated 3 times) is a fantastical, chromatic bit of fireworks that uses super-fast scales, trills, and elaborate ornaments. The second section (repeated twice) is a finger-busting toccata that spans the keyboard. The final section is an homage to the pianism of the high romantic in which I attempt to “one-up” Liszt & Rachmaninoff. Each section is quite different, and strictly divided – with few attempts to blend or develop the materials together – as though they each formed one side of a triangle. Each repetition represents a new and smaller triangle, finally disappearing into infinity.
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Also known, for obvious reasons, as the Sierpenski Triangle, the Sierpenski Gasket was first described by Waclaw Sierpenski (1882-1920) in 1902. It is related to the so-called Monster Curves because it has finite area but infinite perimeter. For years, mathematicians considered these shapes to be annoying curiosities but eventually they became a sort of grandfather to all fractal geometry. The shape includes delicately interspersed triangles-within-triangles, and the repeating (iterative) patterns continues “downward” as though your point-of-view could spiral down to infinity. With each spiral, more detail is revealed. Sierpenski Gaskets are formed as seen below.
They are also very similar to the four-sided Sierpenski Carpet and the 3-dimensional Sierpenski Pyramid.
This piece is based on variations of the basic Sierpenski Gasket as sketched by myself and others. The most important sketch is represented on the cover (computer graphics by Yuedong Merritt). The form of this piece represents a trip downward through the top triangle, with each repetition of material 1/3 smaller and tighter. In a sense, the piece is a Prelude, Toccata, & Rhapsody in 3 1/3 iterations. The first section (repeated 3 times) is a fantastical, chromatic bit of fireworks that uses super-fast scales, trills, and elaborate ornaments. The second section (repeated twice) is a finger-busting toccata that spans the keyboard. The final section is an homage to the pianism of the high romantic in which I attempt to “one-up” Liszt & Rachmaninoff. Each section is quite different, and strictly divided – with few attempts to blend or develop the materials together – as though they each formed one side of a triangle. Each repetition represents a new and smaller triangle, finally disappearing into infinity.
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Hive (Piano)
for 4 pianos 16 hands or 2 pianos 8 hands
When I was 9 years old, I stumbled across a book in the school library on killer bees. It described their history and breeding. But the part the captured my attention was the loving detail with which it described grown men being killed by millions of ferocious insects, even as they fled, diving uselessly into homes, cars, and bodies of water. Their cries for help were met with mouthfuls of angry, buzzing drones, with bites inside their clothes and down their throats. More than a few little boys were also mentioned as victims. Needless to say, summer was ruined. Ever honey bee, every buzz, indeed every flicker of an insect wing sent me back inside at top speed.
The book ended by describing the slow march northward of their hives, noting helpfully that they could appear in the American Southwest “any day.” For a boy living in West Texas, this was troubling news. Fortunately, my newfound phobia led to a great deal more piano practice. And so, to come full circle, Hive.
The insistent 5/8 rhythm heard throughout much of the work is a sped-up version of a rather different insect sound. As I worked on this piece, a cricket that prefers odd meters came to live by my window, and his eighth-sixteenth-eight message found its way into this piece.
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When I was 9 years old, I stumbled across a book in the school library on killer bees. It described their history and breeding. But the part the captured my attention was the loving detail with which it described grown men being killed by millions of ferocious insects, even as they fled, diving uselessly into homes, cars, and bodies of water. Their cries for help were met with mouthfuls of angry, buzzing drones, with bites inside their clothes and down their throats. More than a few little boys were also mentioned as victims. Needless to say, summer was ruined. Ever honey bee, every buzz, indeed every flicker of an insect wing sent me back inside at top speed.
The book ended by describing the slow march northward of their hives, noting helpfully that they could appear in the American Southwest “any day.” For a boy living in West Texas, this was troubling news. Fortunately, my newfound phobia led to a great deal more piano practice. And so, to come full circle, Hive.
The insistent 5/8 rhythm heard throughout much of the work is a sped-up version of a rather different insect sound. As I worked on this piece, a cricket that prefers odd meters came to live by my window, and his eighth-sixteenth-eight message found its way into this piece.
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Aqueous (New Media)
ballet for electronic media, 2 sopranos, solo flute, flute choir, and handbells
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余姚市文化馆 (New Media)
for electronic media
This work was composed for the anniversary of the discover of the 5000 year old Hemudu site in Yuyao China. It was commissioned by the Yuyao Arts Council as a part of the celebration.
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This work was composed for the anniversary of the discover of the 5000 year old Hemudu site in Yuyao China. It was commissioned by the Yuyao Arts Council as a part of the celebration.
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Veloce (Solo)
for violin & piano or for cello & piano
Veloce is a set of miniatures strung together by a common interest in speed. The first movement, cadenze, is an attempt to create an entire movement constructed of nothing but a series of cadenzas for each instrument. It is marked “Wildly fast” and is meant to be both a virtuosic display and a toccata-like exposing of the novel tonal basis for this work. Veloce was composed using a new technique I have developed that uses tonality based not on the circle of fifths, but rather on a unique set of symmetrical circles that produce a fascinating, yet familiar tonal landscape.
After the ferocious beginning, the tiny second movement, evening prayer, is a joltingly static, meditative response. The piano begins with a bell-like tolling ostinato. After a couple of cycles, the soloist answers with a distant chant, a plaintive prayer. The third, untitled movement is played as fast as possible from start to finish. The players chase each other across their upper registers in a furious though nearly silent (ppp sempre!) scamper. The final movement, aria, is marker Adagio lacrimosa. It is a lament for the soloist marked by harsh and unrelenting interjections from the piano. The work ends with a subdued though not quite fully resolved Eb Major chord.
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Veloce is a set of miniatures strung together by a common interest in speed. The first movement, cadenze, is an attempt to create an entire movement constructed of nothing but a series of cadenzas for each instrument. It is marked “Wildly fast” and is meant to be both a virtuosic display and a toccata-like exposing of the novel tonal basis for this work. Veloce was composed using a new technique I have developed that uses tonality based not on the circle of fifths, but rather on a unique set of symmetrical circles that produce a fascinating, yet familiar tonal landscape.
After the ferocious beginning, the tiny second movement, evening prayer, is a joltingly static, meditative response. The piano begins with a bell-like tolling ostinato. After a couple of cycles, the soloist answers with a distant chant, a plaintive prayer. The third, untitled movement is played as fast as possible from start to finish. The players chase each other across their upper registers in a furious though nearly silent (ppp sempre!) scamper. The final movement, aria, is marker Adagio lacrimosa. It is a lament for the soloist marked by harsh and unrelenting interjections from the piano. The work ends with a subdued though not quite fully resolved Eb Major chord.
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Klang (Chamber Music)
concerto for viola & Messiaen Quartet
I. This movement could have been entitled Toccata scherzanda. After a wild introduction, the movement erupts into a rush of activity, with the emphasis on the frenetic solos of the viola. After a brief reminder of the opening, the movement ends with a flurry. The soloist and the ensemble share material, but the soloist dominates.
II. Adagio features long, flowing lines, and gentle counterpoint. There is rarely any sense of accompaniment from any of the instruments, with the viola functioning as a “1st among equals.” The movement is a very loose rondo, but the form is quite free, even meandering.
III. Teaching Piece introduces a very different kind of procedure from the rest of the work. In this movement, the viola introduces a motive or idea and “teaches” it to the next instrument, who picks it up and fashions the idea to make it their own. As the soloist introduces more and more ideas, he is gradually subsumed into the texture. Only occasionally does the soloist emerge to guide the ensemble to the next idea. After briefly losing the initiative in a violent shift of texture, the soloist reemerges as the teacher. The overall structure is full of minimalist-inspired textures, that are formed from tiny, slowly-evolving repetitions.
IV. The fourth movement is attaca from the previous. This somewhat ironically entitled movement, Aria semplice, crashes between a simple, folksy motive and a series of highly charged dramatic gestures. The bulk of the movement consists of an immense cadenza. Even when the ensemble is playing, the viola is usually in a completely different sonic world. The movement ends as it began, with a long clarinet tone.
Klang is the German word for “sound.”
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I. This movement could have been entitled Toccata scherzanda. After a wild introduction, the movement erupts into a rush of activity, with the emphasis on the frenetic solos of the viola. After a brief reminder of the opening, the movement ends with a flurry. The soloist and the ensemble share material, but the soloist dominates.
II. Adagio features long, flowing lines, and gentle counterpoint. There is rarely any sense of accompaniment from any of the instruments, with the viola functioning as a “1st among equals.” The movement is a very loose rondo, but the form is quite free, even meandering.
III. Teaching Piece introduces a very different kind of procedure from the rest of the work. In this movement, the viola introduces a motive or idea and “teaches” it to the next instrument, who picks it up and fashions the idea to make it their own. As the soloist introduces more and more ideas, he is gradually subsumed into the texture. Only occasionally does the soloist emerge to guide the ensemble to the next idea. After briefly losing the initiative in a violent shift of texture, the soloist reemerges as the teacher. The overall structure is full of minimalist-inspired textures, that are formed from tiny, slowly-evolving repetitions.
IV. The fourth movement is attaca from the previous. This somewhat ironically entitled movement, Aria semplice, crashes between a simple, folksy motive and a series of highly charged dramatic gestures. The bulk of the movement consists of an immense cadenza. Even when the ensemble is playing, the viola is usually in a completely different sonic world. The movement ends as it began, with a long clarinet tone.
Klang is the German word for “sound.”
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The Day Florestan Murdered Magister Raro (Chamber Music)
for clarinet, violin, cello, & piano
The Day Florestan Murdered Magister Raro was the winner of the 1999 Left Coast Chamber Ensemble Composition Competition and received its West Coast premier by that ensemble in 2000. Florestan and Magister Raro are characters found in Schumann’s piano character pieces. Florestan is the wild, free tune that perhaps needs to be put in its place. Magister Raro, actually Schumann himself, is the wise, controlling voice that made sense of the proceedings. It does seem at times in this work as though the tunes have overtaken the good sense of the composer. The quick cuts and tiny quotes (mainly Schumann and Messiaen – the quartet’s namesake) reflect the quick-cutting, hyperactive attention spans of television, especially cartoons.
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The Day Florestan Murdered Magister Raro was the winner of the 1999 Left Coast Chamber Ensemble Composition Competition and received its West Coast premier by that ensemble in 2000. Florestan and Magister Raro are characters found in Schumann’s piano character pieces. Florestan is the wild, free tune that perhaps needs to be put in its place. Magister Raro, actually Schumann himself, is the wise, controlling voice that made sense of the proceedings. It does seem at times in this work as though the tunes have overtaken the good sense of the composer. The quick cuts and tiny quotes (mainly Schumann and Messiaen – the quartet’s namesake) reflect the quick-cutting, hyperactive attention spans of television, especially cartoons.
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Invocation (Chamber Music)
for 7 solo brass
This work invokes the spirit of Mahler to share the musical space. Although there are no literal quotes, Invocation strongly echoes his music. The work begins with a long trumpet solo, which projects the plan for the entire work. The soloist then invokes the sound of each of the members of the ensemble with a series of calls. Invocation is a free, sometimes aleotoric and dependent on the performer’s interactions through cues.
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This work invokes the spirit of Mahler to share the musical space. Although there are no literal quotes, Invocation strongly echoes his music. The work begins with a long trumpet solo, which projects the plan for the entire work. The soloist then invokes the sound of each of the members of the ensemble with a series of calls. Invocation is a free, sometimes aleotoric and dependent on the performer’s interactions through cues.visit www.mooneast.com
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
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