About
In tragic circumstances, such as we’ve experienced in our lifetimes, and certainly in the last twenty years, many are caught in a web of grief and frustration. Our need to be of help may come out in works of social justice, or in volunteerism. We may feel that circumstances are so overwhelming that we withdraw inside, unable to find a pathway forward—constructing a shell, an inner landscape, to avoid our feelings of joy and sorrow.
After the attacks on 9/11, The Onion published a satirical headline that haunted me: “Woman, not knowing what else to do, bakes flag cake.” What is the artist’s duty, in the wake of large public tragedies? What of our internal struggles? Instead of empty gestures, we transform strong feelings and ideas into works that plumb our sorrow, turning grief into ideas and ideas into action, putting tragedy into new or enhanced perspectives. Musicians cannot predict emotional or intellectual effects on listeners; we simply present ideas in sound, as interpretations.
At the University of Wisconsin-Madison, our Concert Choir (elite music majors’ ensemble) offered a recent program exploring beautiful music written in the wake of otherwise unspeakable circumstances. We included music from several centuries: varying gentle and loud; pairing early music with modern spirituals of overcoming adversity; and presenting early works with modern, offering new frames for profound ideas. This session will present the conceptualization and performance examples from ART BORN OF TRAGEDY.
This topic will be presented in written excerpts of the modern works and examples for the audience to sing themselves. I also have recordings of all the works to be presented, including a publicly released CD of “Après moi le déluge” by Luna Woolf, which was favorably reviewed by The New York Times. I would also bring with me my University of Wisconsin colleague Professor Sally Chisholm, renowned violist with the Pro Arte Quartet (the oldest university residential quartet in the United States) to perform as the audience sings through Professor and noted composer Laura Schwendiger’s “For Paris” for viola and chorus.
After the attacks on 9/11, The Onion published a satirical headline that haunted me: “Woman, not knowing what else to do, bakes flag cake.” What is the artist’s duty, in the wake of large public tragedies? What of our internal struggles? Instead of empty gestures, we transform strong feelings and ideas into works that plumb our sorrow, turning grief into ideas and ideas into action, putting tragedy into new or enhanced perspectives. Musicians cannot predict emotional or intellectual effects on listeners; we simply present ideas in sound, as interpretations.
At the University of Wisconsin-Madison, our Concert Choir (elite music majors’ ensemble) offered a recent program exploring beautiful music written in the wake of otherwise unspeakable circumstances. We included music from several centuries: varying gentle and loud; pairing early music with modern spirituals of overcoming adversity; and presenting early works with modern, offering new frames for profound ideas. This session will present the conceptualization and performance examples from ART BORN OF TRAGEDY.
This topic will be presented in written excerpts of the modern works and examples for the audience to sing themselves. I also have recordings of all the works to be presented, including a publicly released CD of “Après moi le déluge” by Luna Woolf, which was favorably reviewed by The New York Times. I would also bring with me my University of Wisconsin colleague Professor Sally Chisholm, renowned violist with the Pro Arte Quartet (the oldest university residential quartet in the United States) to perform as the audience sings through Professor and noted composer Laura Schwendiger’s “For Paris” for viola and chorus.
Program
Lamentations of Jeremiah, Part I
(On the destruction of Jerusalem) |
Thomas Tallis (c. 1505 - 1585)
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Here begin the lamentations of the prophet Jeremiah. Aleph (A): How the city does sit alone that was once full of people; she is now become like a widow, she that ruled peoples, the princess of provinces, now put under the yoke of tribute. Beth (B): She weeps deeply in the nighttime and tears run down her cheeks. There is no one to console her out of all those who cared for her; her friends scorn her and have become enemies. Jerusalem, turn again to the Lord your God!
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Draw on, sweet night
(On a broken heart) |
John Wilbye (1574 - 1638)
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Daniel, Servant of the Lord
(On Daniel being thrown into the lion's den) |
Arr. Undine Moore (1904 - 1989)
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Tenor soloist
Bass soloist
Bass soloist
For Paris
(On the 2015 bombings in Paris) |
Laura Schwendinger (b. 1962)
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Viola soloist
Après moi, le deluge (text by Eleanor Wilner)
(On the 2005 destruction of New Orleans by Hurricane Katrina) |
Luna Pearl Woolf (b. 1973)
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Cello soloist
Baritone soloist
Soprano soloist
Soprano soloist
Baritone soloist
Soprano soloist
Soprano soloist
Sometimes I feel like a motherless child
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Arr. Robert Fountain (1917 - 1996)
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Soprano soloist
O vos omnes
(On the 2011 death of two-year-old child Wang Yue in Guangdong Province, China) |
Joseph Gregorio (b. 1979)
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O all you who pass along the way, behold and see if there is any sorrow like my sorrow.
Sometimes I feel like a mournful dove
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Arr. Alice Parker (b. 1925)
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Alto soloist
Didn't My Lord Deliver Daniel?
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Arr. Moses Hogan (1957 - 2003)
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SSA small ensemble
We shall walk through the valley in peace
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Arr. Hogan
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