We dedicate this program to Leila
Eutermarks, remembering
her gifts to us:
kindness, courage, music, laughter.
Spring makes its entrance fitfully, teasing all the senses rather
than declaring the new season with a fanfare. A shift in the
breeze, dancing light on distant waves, fresh green smells, a
buzz barely heard at first, ever-brighter days... We stare
into the Dazzle of Day, and light seems to shimmer
downward, filling our senses to overflowing. The great
Chilean poet Pablo Neruda, at his hilltop villa "Isla Negra" overlooking
the Pacific, wrote: "I open my heart ... from my glass I
drink / pure joy." Composer Edie Hill's impressionist
sound-painting builds gradually, voices joining one by one in
augmented rising scales breathing in the new air, over a thrumming
guitar suggesting new birth, until all "join in ... a huge,
wordless expression of joy."
Beyond the shimmer of a spring day, points of light dance within
infinite darkness. Aviator-poet Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
knew the stars as beacons and friends, perhaps as ultimate destination,
as in the gripping account Night Flight. Before
his own disappearance on a reconnaissance mission in 1944, St-Exupéry
left behind a simple fable illustrated with unforgettable sketches
of his alter ego, the Little Prince, who appeared to him in mid-Sahara
after a near-fatal crash landing. The Little Prince lives
today, around the world, in sixty languages, reminding us how
unimportant are ''big" things compared to one rose on a
single tiny distant planet. This was a favorite text for
Leila and her family. Cantabile is honored to have commissioned
a setting of the closing passages. The Prince consoles
his friend before departing life on this planet for his distant
home: "In one of the stars I will be laughing." We
thank Emma Lou Diemer for a loving setting that keeps the simplicity
and wisdom of the fable.
To mark the 250th anniversary of
Mozart's birth, we open with a selection of brief works spanning
his short life, displaying his amazing gift for setting himself
challenges. These
include the English-language anthem God is our refuge (composed
as a gift to the British Museum when he was eight years old!)
and the beloved motet Ave Verum Corpus, composed
in his last year after he had immersed himself in study of Bach's b
minor Mass. The secular canons range from the aria-like
love song Caro bell' idol (Never forget
me, my beauty) and the laments Lacrimoso (Full
of tears) and Nascoso (My sun has sunk, I die
here alone) to a triple-canon chorale that delivers both messages
at once: V'amo di core / Io non vi posso / Uh, che dolore (I
love you with all my heart / I can't help it / What torment). Two
sacred canons, both from his 15th year, form a study in contrasts. Kyrie is
a chain of 5-part canons for equal sopranos, matching the three
sections of text. Dona Nobis Pacem, simple
and moving, could be a congregational benediction.
Our program title CELESTIAL SPRING,
which suits exactly the Neruda and St.-Exupéry texts, actually comes
from the featured work by Bruce Lazarus, commissioned for Cantabile
by director Rebecca Scott. Lazarus writes:
Thank you very much for the fine
performance of Celestial
Winter last year. I am thrilled you will now perform
the sequel, Celestial Spring, next month. The four
choral songs which comprise Celestial Spring were composed
between 2003 and December 2005.
Camelopardalis,
the celestial giraffe, is a faint constellation near the Big
Dipper, best seen in spring and summer. The music
imitates the peculiar slow-motion, long-legged
gait of this "ballerina of the sky." After
a lifetime of collaboration with the ballet and modern dance
world, I feel I have a right to this affectionate personification.
Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius,
5th century Italian philosopher, wrote extensively on the relation
of music to science, suggesting that stars and planets in their
regular courses generate musical pitches. The short, repeated
phrases are not intended to be minimal, but rather performed
with a crescendo and a general increase of energy - there is
always a destination.
Aurora Borealis was
composed on request by Rebecca Scott. I
spent much of summer 2004 studying the science behind this beautiful phenomenon. But
my preliminary sketches ended up in the wastepaper basket. Finally, during
the hottest days of August, seeing how frustrated I had become, Mary Fleischer
asked, "why are you trying to express the inexpressible in words?" At
that moment, the Aurora piece was born. There would be
no text, no words, no definite shapes -- only colors, sounds,
and variated repetition without beginning or end.
While "Aurora" could stand alone, it did not make
a satisfying conclusion to a short group of pieces. Fanciful
descriptions of Clouds, with meteorological
labels, set to an easy-going rock shuffle, provide a needed
cheerful ending.
A rainbow is both star and cloud: the sun's light refracted
from an arch of water droplets. A rainbow,
not the rainbow -- the one you see follows your eyes,
and dances from different droplets than does my rainbow,
but both of course are born in a shared sun, like our personal
memories of a common friend.And its glorious spectrum testifies
to two hidden truths: white light is not pure, but a mixture
of fiery hues, and water responds differently to each hue. Inspiration
even to the scientific mind. "Grandpa and the Rainbow," El
abuelo y el Arcoiris, is a double memorial. Costa
Rican poet Jorge Charpentier cherishes a private memory of his
departed grandfather: a curious boy asks the silent man
what he sees in the distant sky. The choral setting by
David V. Montoya is a memorial to Charpentier, commissioned by
William Wells Belan, Cal State Los Angeles, as a gift to Costa
Rican conductor David Ramiriz and El Café Chorale.
Fittingly, children's voices are
heard in the dialog with Grandpa. These
young singers have been rehearsing for several weeks with Ms.
Scott and members of Cantabile. They join us also for Cucú, a
comical Spanish nursery rhyme for two-part chorus, two adult
voices, and guitar, from Four Spanish Lullabies by
Francisco Nuñez. Nuñez conducts the superb
New York Children's Chorus -- hear a concert live or on WNYC.
Nothing childish about young Cassandra,
resisting the pressure of society, in the 15c. Spanish play by
Gil Vicente.. David
Montoya captures her dilemma as a classic ABA song for women's
trio. To herself, "They say I should marry (Dicen
que me case yo) but I don't want to." Then,
to her mother, defiantly: "This flower won't marry and waste
her God-given gifts." Losing heart: "...but
they say I must." Again to herself: "No
man yet born is worthy to be my husband." Despite
ominous tapping of finger cymbals, alternately sounding like
castanets, a dropped tear, or a chapel bell, she finally plucks
up her courage, strumming the guitar: "I won't be married
--- NO!" How does this age-old drama play out? For
one ending, c.1936, see Repertorio Español tomorrow
in New Brunswick, staging La casa de Bernarda Alba by
the great poet-playwright-composer Federico Garcia Lorca.
For millennia, sung-poetry has
been accompanied by guitar or zither. Many works on our program continue this tradition,
providing a chance to collaborate with renowned New Jersey-based
classical guitarist Christopher Kenniff. He has agreed
to perform a group of solos as well, from Castles of Spain by
Federico Moreno-Torroba: Turegano is
subtitled Serranilla, a lyric composition, in Rondo form. Torija is
an Elegia, musical poetic remembrance of one deceased. Alcaniz is
a merry Festiva.
The Spanish / Caribbean theme continues
as we close with two favorites from earlier programs, the Papiemento
harvest song Balia
di Sehú and the Costa Rican wedding song Caña
Dulce.
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