I Want to Be Ready

Description

EDITORIAL REVIEWS Recorded on June 3rd, 2008 in the Stern Auditorium/Perelman Stage at Carnegie Hall, New York City William G. "Kip" Kuepper of Coupe Studios, Producer; Leszek Wojick, Engineer I. "Over My Head, I Hear Music" An entrancing, three-note melody floats on an updraft of conviction as the American Spiritual composer speaks from the roots of the nation's identity: "Over my head I hear music, there must be a God somewhere." Through music and poetry, the simplest of statements teases out profundity within experience with an ease unthinkable in prose. Composers have long understood music's power to convey and, indeed, define human experience. They often look to the chorus to do so, perhaps because the very effectiveness of the choir subsists in emotional vulnerability and mutual trust. This program, I Want To Be Ready, juxtaposes the work of 23 different composers and spans more than four centuries. Each of the seven sets reaches into one of life's mysteries and explores it from multiple perspectives. As the opening song develops, each voice expresses personal insight through a 26-part canon. The voices congregate to end the piece, and so embody the message of the concert: people of diverse backgrounds and abilities can share their personal approach to life and spirituality through song, and in doing so, they are made stronger. Life's wonders grow through relationships, and our individual worlds depend upon interaction with varied influences, including characters in our art. These characters can bring us into safe relationships with our hopes and fears, create confidants and sages. In I Want To Be Ready, John-a symbol of cheerful-hearted spirituality, strength, and justice in the African-American communities of the 19th century- excites great anticipation for a new Jerusalem. Likewise, the mysterious speaker of Alleluia, I Heard a Voice shares excitement about something larger than the individual: "Salvation, Glory, and Honor." In the piece Alleluia, I Heard a Voice, the word "Alleluia" echoes again and again, bouncing against the regulated pulse of Renaissance polyphony, and "Alleluia" in the Russian communion anthem Duh Tvoy Blagíy answers with sober reflection. This simple word occupies a wide berth in music history, and has come to define many reflections on life. It enriches at least one song in every set in the program. II. "Sorrow Is Ours to Hold" Sorrow lives within the arms of joy. As Naomi Shihab Nye explains in a poem that introduces this set, "What you carefully saved, all this must go so you know how desolate the landscape can be." So intrinsic is sorrow's connection to life that the destruction of the freedoms of two peoples separated by nearly 2,000 years speaks as if they occupied the same moment in time. The Psalmist's cry for relief from exile and slavery-"By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept, how can we sing a song in a strange land"-so captured the early American spirit torn by war and political upheaval that William Billings grafted the words to his music in Lamentation Over Boston. Likewise the longing found in Palestrina's motet style from Renaissance Italy (Sicut Cervus), echoes through the 20th-century American classical music of Deep River to transform the personal and social despair of American slavery. In each of the pieces we follow the tightly woven reality of experience and emotion. Pain is allowed to weigh down the music to uplift the soul: we must hold sorrow close to us to know hope's great promise. III. "Hope Perches in the Soul" Emily Dickinson tantalizes with the irresistible metaphor "Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune-without the words, and never stops at all." The words of Jacob's Ladder, The Lord's Prayer, God Bless the Child, and Song of Triumph all speak profoundly of hope-and perhaps in their cases as well as Dickinson's, the tune without the words brings us closer, in some sense, to truth. Listen closely to Boyer's gospel triple-time escalation in Jacob's Ladder, where the satisfying words "Rise, shine, give God the glory," are swept into emotional rapture through music. The familiar Lord's Prayer takes on startling poignancy through upward-moving sequences in the repetition of the words "Forgive us our transgressions," as Garuta defies fearful self-centeredness in the face of the two opposing armies who seemed sure to destroy her city, her friends, and possibly herself, in 1942 Riga, Latvia. And "Alleluia" speaks as the voice of pain, laid raw and accepted reluctantly as a friend, in Song of Triumph, Grothenuis' expression of faith in life and the spirit in a song that brought the composer out of deep struggle after great loss. IV. "Happiness Floats" Life's joys often appear in strange places. They welcome us into praise for one another (Uyai Mose), the spirit (Ubi Caritas), for nature (i thank You God), special occasions (O Magnum Mysterium), and the everyday (Salmo 150). Happiness erupts from us, and if we try to contain it, moves on. We cannot speak to one another of happiness, we must speak from happiness, be with it and share it with abandon. Joy flows in many streams, all of them transporting. We extend to you the invitation to join in celebration with Uyai Mose and the call to "Come all ye people, to worship, to praise, to sing your songs together..." that will end the first half of the program. V. "Salvation Is Created in the Midst of the Earth" Life is filled with wonder, sorrow, hope, and joy. These emotions stir speech and instigate stories that reflect understanding of life, love, humanity, and God. In the Christian faith, the story of Jesus' life on earth captures the imagination of the greatest and least-practiced story tellers. The main points are familiar but no less profound: from the beginning, expressed in Ave Maria-"et verbum caro factum est, et habitavit in nobis" ("and the word became flesh, and dwelt among us")-with it's recognition of the woman who carried divine life ("Hail Mary full of grace, blessed are you among women")-to the climactic "Jesu vamuvamba" ("Jesus, they crucified him"). As John Donne declares in the poetry of At the Round Earth's Imagined Corners, choices dwell in these stories: to Donne, the choice of repentance in contrast to the darkness of personal iniquity. And the story turns to myth in the powerful Russian communion reflection, Spaséñiye Soldélal "Salvation is created in the midst of the earth." Here relationship gives meaning to communication and physical manifestation stirs awakening through the every day. VI. "A Miracle of Birth and Glory, Death and Resurrection" From life ("Let's go down in the river to pray") to death ("When my work on earth is done, done with sin and sorrow"), and beyond ("May flights of angels sing thee to thy rest"), the buzz of the living soul hums through a musical drone and crowds imagination with overwhelming presence. Indeed, life itself sings the soul into the beyond ("weeping at the grave creates a song, Alleluia!"). The music communicates two portraits of humanity's real need for the afterlife: the humble, Hear My Prayer ("Just to know I'm bound for glory and to hear you say 'Well done'") and the glorious ("Come, enjoy rewards and crowns") in Song for Athene. VII. "In My Soul There Is a Temple" From emotion to storied communication, composers have translated experience to define their own purpose. When purpose defines life, the very moments of toil ring with delight. Without it, emotion refuses to speak and stories lose their meaning. Spiritual composers understood this and even under the cloak of slavery sought examples to muster purpose. "Did you ever see such a sight before? Jesus preaching to the poor" appears in many spirituals. Unfettered by a need to connect plot points, the words in Daniel Saw the Stone go straight to the heart of being-to find place. Daniel interprets dreams, Jesus helps the lowly and sets the captive free. Even in places where purpose seems hopeless, in the