The voices of the Dallas-based Verdigris Ensemble rise in collaboration with ensembleNEWSRQ to present the compelling choral works of two internationally acclaimed composers: The Branch Will Not Break by Christopher Cerrone – as inspired by the poetry of James Arlington Wright; and Vespers for a New Dark Age by Missy Mazzoli – set to the poetry of Matthew Zapruder.
This performance of Missy Mazzoli’s Vespers is presented with support from the Sarasota County Tourist Development Cultural/Arts Grant.
enSRQ Artists Betsy Hudson Traba and Jennifer Best Takeda are generously sponsored by Robert & Debbie Hendel and Ben & Gigi Huberman.
Program
Christopher Cerrone | The Branch Will Not Break (2015) – 22’ |
I. | Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s |
II. | Two Horses Playing in the Orchard |
III. | Two Hangovers, Number One |
IV. | From a Bus Window in Central Ohio, Just Before a Thunder Shower |
V. | Having Lost My Sons, I Confront the Wreckage of the Moon: Christmas, 1960 |
VI. | Two Hangovers, Number Two: I Try to Waken and Greet the World Once Again |
VII. | A Blessing |
with members of Verdigris Ensemble Thea Lobo, mezzo soprano Betsy Hudson Traba, flutes Calvin Falwell, clarinets Kelsey Ross, horn Brad Williams, trombone Marcelina Suchocka, percussion Sam Nelson, piano Jennifer Best Takeda, violin Mia Laity, violin Nathan Frantz, viola Natalie Helm, cello George Nickson, conductor |
Missy Mazzoli | Vespers for a New Dark Age (2014) 23’ |
I. | Wayward Free Radical Dreams |
II. | Hello Lord |
III. | Come On All You |
IV. | New Dark Age |
V. | Machine |
with members of Verdigris Ensemble Jennifer Best Takeda, violin Bharat Chandra, clarinet TBD, bass Marcelina Suchocka, synthesizer Sam Nelson, synthesizer Sam Bruhkman, conductor |
Verdigris Ensemble
Sam Brukhman, conductor
Bronwyn White, Jacki Miller, sopranos
Susey Woodruff, alto
with
Thea Lobo, alto
Nicholas Masiello, Chris Romeo, tenors
Mark Wagstrom, Todd Donovan, basses
The Branch Will Not Break
Text, from poems by James Arlington Wright
1. Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota
Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly, Asleep on the black trunk,
Blowing like a leaf in green shadow. Down the ravine behind the empty house, The cowbells follow one another
Into the distances of the afternoon.
To my right,
In a field of sunlight between two pines,
The droppings of last year’s horses
Blaze up into golden stones.
I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on. A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home.
I have wasted my life.
2. Two Horses Playing in the Orchard
Too soon, too soon, a man will come
To lock the gate, and drive them home. Then, neighing softly through the night, The mare will nurse her shoulder bite. Now, lightly fair, through lock and mane She gazes over the dusk again,
And sees her darkening stallion leap
In grass for apples, half asleep.
Lightly, lightly, on slender knees
He turns, lost in a dream of trees.
Apples are slow to find this day, Someone has stolen the best away.
Still, some remain before the snow,
A few, trembling on boughs so low
A horse can reach them, small and sweet: And some are tumbling to her feet.
Too soon, a man will scatter them. Although I do not know his name, His age, or how he came to own
A horse, an apple tree, a stone.
I let those horses in to steal
On principle, because I feel
Like half a horse myself, although Too soon, too soon, already. Now.
3. Two Hangovers, Number One
I slouch in bed.
Beyond the streaked trees of my window,
All groves are bare.
Locusts and poplars change to unmarried women Sorting slate from anthracite
Between railroad ties:
The yellow-bearded winter of the depression
Is still alive somewhere, an old man
Counting his collection of bottle caps
In a tarpaper shack under the cold trees
Of my grave.
I still feel half drunk,
And all those old women beyond my window Are hunching toward the graveyard.
Drunk, mumbling Hungarian, The sun staggers in,
And his big stupid face pitches Into the stove.
For two hours I have been dreaming
Of green butterflies searching for diamonds
In coal seams;
And children chasing each other for a game Through the hills of fresh graves.
But the sun has come home drunk from the sea, And a sparrow outside
Sings of the Hanna Coal Co. and the dead moon. The filaments of cold light bulbs tremble
In music like delicate birds.
Ah, turn it off.
4. From a Bus Window in Central Ohio, Just Before a Thunder Shower
Cribs loaded with roughage huddle together Before the north clouds.
The wind tiptoes between poplars.
The silver maple leaves squint
Toward the ground.
An old farmer, his scarlet face
Apologetic with whiskey, swings back a barn door And calls a hundred black-and-white Holsteins From the clover field.
5. Having Lost My Sons, I Confront
The Wreckage Of The Moon: Christmas, 1960
After dark
Near the South Dakota border,
The moon is out hunting, everywhere, Delivering fire,
And walking down hallways
Of a diamond.
Behind a tree,
It lights on the ruins Of a white city Frost, frost.
Where are they gone Who lived there?
Bundled away under wings And dark faces.
I am sick
Of it, and I go on
Living, alone, alone,
Past the charred silos, past the hidden graves Of Chippewas and Norwegians.
This cold winter
Moon spills the inhuman fire Of jewels
Into my hands.
Dead riches, dead hands, the moon Darkens,
And I am lost in the beautiful white ruins Of America.
6. Two Hangovers, Number Two:
I Try to Waken and Greet the World Once Again
In a pine tree,
A few yards away from my window sill,
A brilliant blue jay is springing up and down, up and down, On a branch.
I laugh, as I see him abandon himself
To entire delight, for he knows as well as I do
That the branch will not break.
7. A Blessing
Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota, Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass. And the eyes of those two Indian ponies Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness. I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl’s wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.
Vespers for a New Dark Age
Missy Mazzoli
Text, from poetry of Matthew Zapruder
I. Wayward Free Radical Dreams
If the heart makes the sound of two violins
Sleeping in a baby carriage, then new technologies cannot make us both more loyal
More loyal and free
Wayward free radical dreams want to be loyal
I say it once into the darkness
Come on Come on Come on
Come on Come on Come on
Come on
Come on all you ghosts, come on
Try to makes me forget you
Come on all you ghosts
Try to make me forget you
II. Hello Lord
Hello Lord
Hello Lord
Are you sorry you woke me with your tree, your birds, and wind
Were you lonely
Was your wife not beside you slowly breathing
Were you lonely
Was your wife not beside you slowly breathing
Did she get up and go off
Did she, did she
Did she get up and go off with night like everything
Did she get up and go off with night like everything you made?
III. Come On All You
Come on all you ghosts
Come on all you, all you ghosts
We need you
We need you
Winter is not through with us
And the sea seems more than a little angry
Come on all you ghosts
Come on all you, all you, all you
Sometimes I hear the crystal factory whirring
Are those your hands
Are you those your hands on the switches ghosts?
As if I were being carried in the hand of a great being
Who insisted he was still
But I could feel
I could feel the motion
IV. New Dark Age
Hello Lord
I’m sorry I woke you
Because my plans are important to me
And I need things no one can buy
And don’t even know what they are
I know I belong in this new dark age
I know I belong in this new dark age
I know I belong, I know I belong
I know I belong in this new dark age
And I need things no one can buy and don’t even know what they are
V. Machine
I know
I know you can hear me
I know
I know, I know you are here
I have heard you cough and sigh when I pretend I do not believe
I have to say something important
Probably no one will die of anything I say
Probably no one will live even a second longer
Is that true?
Is that true?
Come on, come on, come on
Come on come on all you ghosts
You can tell me now
I have seen one of you becoming
I am no longer afraid
Ghosts if I must join you
You and I know I have done my best to leave behind this machine anyone with a mind who cares can enter
Christopher Cerrone (b.1984)
is internationally acclaimed for compositions characterized by a subtle handling of timbre and resonance, a deep literary fluency, and a flair for multimedia collaborations. Balancing lushness and austerity, immersive textures and telling details, dramatic impact, and interiority, Cerrone’s multi-GRAMMY-nominated music is utterly compelling and uniquely his own.
Cerrone’s recent opera, In a Grove (libretto by Stephanie Fleischmann), jointly produced by LA Opera and Pittsburgh Opera, was called “stunning” (Opera News) and “outstanding” (Pittsburgh Post-Gazette) in its sold-out premiere run in March 2022. Other recent projects include A Body, Moving, a brass concerto for the Cincinnati Symphony; Breaks and Breaks, a violin concerto for Jennifer Koh and the Detroit Symphony; The Insects Became Magnetic, an orchestral work with electronics for the Los Angeles Philharmonic; The Air Suspended, a piano concerto for Shai Wosner; and Meander, Spiral, Explode, a percussion quartet concerto co-commissioned by Third Coast Percussion, the Chicago Civic Orchestra of the Chicago Symphony and the Britt Festival.
Upcoming projects include The Year of Silence, based on the story of the same name by Kevin Brockmeier, for the Louisville Symphony and baritone Dashon Burton; Beaufort Scales, an oratorio for voices, electronics, and video commissioned by Lorelei Ensemble; and Nervous Systems, a new clarinet quintet that will be toured throughout the US and Australia.
Cerrone’s first opera, Invisible Cities, a 2014 Pulitzer Prize finalist, was praised by the Los Angeles Times as “A delicate and beautiful opera…[which] could be, and should be, done anywhere.” Invisible Cities received its fully-staged world premiere in a wildly popular production by The Industry, directed by Yuval Sharon, in Los Angeles’ Union Station. Both the film and opera are available as CDs, DVDs, and digital downloads. In July 2019, New Amsterdam Records released his GRAMMY-nominated sophomore effort, The Pieces that Fall to Earth, a collaboration with the LA-based chamber orchestra, Wild Up, to widespread acclaim. His most recent release, The Arching Path (In a Circle Records), features performances by Timo Andres, Ian Rosenbaum, Lindsay Kesselman, and Mingzhe Wang and was nominated for a 2022 GRAMMY. Cerrone is the winner of the 2015-2016 Samuel Barber Rome Prize in Music Composition and is currently a fellow at the Laurenz Haus Foundation in Basel, Switzerland in 2022–2023.
Christopher Cerrone holds degrees from the Yale School of Music and the Manhattan School of Music. He is published by Schott NY and Project Schott New York and in 2021 he joined the composition faculty at Mannes School of Music. He lives in Brooklyn with his wife, Carrie Sun. christophercerrone.com.
The Branch Will Not Break (2015)
…Otherwise this stone would seem defaced
beneath the translucent cascade of the shoulders
and would not glisten like a wild beast’s fur:
would not, from all the borders of itself
burst like a star: for here there is no place
that does not see you. You must change your life.
—Rainer Maria Rilke, ‘Archaic Torso of Apollo’
When I was asked by the Milwaukee-based Present Music to create a new work for their annual Thanksgiving concert I have to admit I was initially without ideas. I was raised on the East Coast of the US, and while I have celebrated Thanksgiving most of my life, the holiday always carries a melancholic air with it: I associate Thanksgiving with returning home—and in doing so, returning to a place that has somehow lost the lustre and joy of my childhood. None of this initially seemed appropriate for a Thanksgiving concert in the midwest.
Around that sam time, I discovered the poetry of James Arlington Wright, and in particular his book from 1963, The Branch Will Not Break. The poems frequently cite Wright’s explorations of his native midwest, and I began to connect my own visits home on Thanksgiving with Wright’s trips to South Dakota, Ohio, and Minnesota.
In my own composition, I began teasing a story out of Wright’s poems. The piece begins with an unadorned and even pulse, an insouciant waiting conjured by the wistful ‘Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota’. Soon two men sing a plaintive melody, ending with the devastating conclusion of that poem.
But as I was composing, a secondary, more optimistic narrative emerged, one of communion with nature. I have been lucky enough to visit the midwest in recent years—particularly Wisconsin and Minnesota—and have been awed by its vast beauty. Wright, too, seems to draw inspiration from these landscapes. ‘Two Horses Playing in the Orchard’ is optimistic, joyous, if a little sad, with the very sentiment “Too soon, too soon” repeated ad infinitum in my setting.
So the narrative of the piece goes, lurching from the melancholy of ‘Two Hangovers’ and ‘Having Lost My Sons, I Confront The Wreckage Of The Moon: Christmas, 1960’ to the quiescent joy of ‘From a Bus Window in Central Ohio, Just Before a Thunder Shower’ and finally ‘A Blessing.’ In ‘A Blessing,’ I tried to imagine Wright moving away from his despair and towards a more optimistic narrative. It’s been suggested that ‘Lying in a Hammock’ was inspired by Rilke’s famous adage: ‘You must change your life.’ Similarly, I hope the piece traces an attempt of both the author and the composer to do just that.
The Branch Will Not Break was mostly composed at the MacDowell Colony in Peterborough, NH. I must give them special thanks for aiding in the creation of this work. The work was completed in Brooklyn and at the American Academy in Rome.
Special thanks go to Sarah Goldfeather, Timo Andres, Kate Maroney, Chad Kranak, Eliza Bagg, and Jonathan Woody for their assistance in workshopping the piece.
‘Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota’, ‘From a Bus Window in Central Ohio, Just Before a Thunder Shower’, ‘A Blessing’, ‘Two Horses Playing in the Orchard’, ‘Two Hangovers’, and ‘Having Lost My Sons, I Confront the Wreckage of the Moon: Christmas, 1960’ from The Branch Will Not Break © 1963 by James Wright. Reprinted with permission of Wesleyan University Press.
- Christopher Cerrone
Missy Mazzoli
Recently deemed “one of the more consistently inventive, surprising composers now working in New York” (NY Times), “Brooklyn’s post-millennial Mozart” (Time Out NY), and praised for her “apocalyptic imagination” (Alex Ross, The New Yorker), Missy Mazzoli has had her music performed by the Kronos Quartet, LA Opera, eighth blackbird, the BBC Symphony, the Minnesota Orchestra, Scottish Opera and many others. In 2018 she became, along with Jeanine Tesori, one of the first woman to receive a main stage commission from the Metropolitan Opera, and was nominated for a Grammy award in the category of “Best Classical Composition”. She is currently the Mead Composer-in-Residence at the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, and from 2012-2015 was Composer-in-Residence with Opera Philadelphia. Her 2018 opera Proving Up, created with longtime collaborator librettist Royce Vavrek and based on a short story by Karen Russell, is a surreal commentary on the American dream. It was commissioned and premiered by Washington National Opera, Opera Omaha and Miller Theatre, and was deemed “harrowing… a true opera for its time” by the Washington Post. Her 2016 opera Breaking the Waves, commissioned by Opera Philadelphia and Beth Morrison Projects, was called “one of the best 21st-century American operas yet” by Opera News. Breaking the Waves received its European premiere at the 2019 Edinburgh Festival; future performances are planned at LA Opera, Houston Grand Opera, and the Adelaide Festival. Her next opera, The Listeners, will premiere in 2021 at the Norwegian National Opera and Opera Philadelphia. In 2016, Missy and composer Ellen Reid founded Luna Lab, a mentorship program for young female composers created in partnership with the Kaufman Music Center. Her works are published by G. Schirmer.
missymazzoli.com
Vespers for a New Dark Age (2016)
Vespers for a New Dark Age was commissioned by Carnegie Hall for the 2014 Ecstatic Music Festival. This work, scored for three vocalists, violin, clarinet, multiple synthesizers, double bass, electronics and percussion, was premiered at Carnegie Hall on February 22, 2014 by the Victoire Ensemble, percussionist Glenn Kotche, and members of vocal ensemble Roomful of Teeth. This piece is a distorted, modern-day take on the traditional Vespers prayer service, in which poems by Matthew Zapruder replace the customary sacred text.
In all of his work Zapruder is able to wrangle elegant and surprising phrases out of the morass of modern culture. His poems are beautiful, haunting, and very much of our time; they explore the way we confront technology, ghosts, death, doubt and God in our “new dark age”. These fragmented, secular texts are juxtaposed with the rigid structure of a musical church service, complete with all its ritualistic repetition and call and response.
Percussionist Glenn Kotche rattles boundaries of the written score with his expansive virtuosity and supernatural energy. The instrumentalists of the ensemble Victoire, armed with synthesizers, organs, amplified strings and winds, further bridge the sonic gap between the new and old, the profane and the spiritual.
- Missy Mazzoli