Martin Connor For The Digital Library of The Caribbean The Vodou Archive June 6th, 2014 A Word On “The Haitian Requiem” “Requiem For Victims Of The 2010 Earthquake In Haiti,” composed from 2010- 2012, is a 9-movement, 35-minute funeral mass in memory of the victims of the 2010 earthquake in Haiti. The work combines the Latin text of the Christian burial rite with 15 Haitian-Creole songs from Vodunism, the indigenous religion of the Haitian people. Taken together, the two texts create a dialogue that asks for the repose of the souls of those who passed away in the horrific earthquake that struck Port-au-Prince, as well as encouraging those who were left behind to rebuild their lives. Scored for brass quintet, choir, percussion, and the Duke carillon, it incorporates a Neo-Gregorian chant style with traditional Haitian musical norms. The type of musical piece known as a requiem draws its name from the first two words of the Christian burial mass found in the Liber Usualis, the Church manual for the performance of mass. The first line of the Latin funeral mass begins, “Requiem aeternam…” which is translated into English as “eternal rest.” Being a musical funeral mass for specific victims and not just anyone who has passed away, a major theme of this requiem in question is calling for rest to come to the earthquake’s victims, whether it be eternal for the dead or temporary for the living. It is no mistake that the term “requiem aeternam” appears in 6 different movements of this piece: “Introit,” “Gradual,” “Agnus Dei,” “Communion,” “In Paradisum,” and “Pie Jesu.” It thus forms a major theme of the piece, and is the direct cause of this requiem’s more optimistic message when it is compared to that of other requiems, such as Mozart’s. This work is meant to be a narrative description of the rollercoaster of emotions one might feel in the aftermath of any disaster, not just an earthquake. The emotional tone informs how the entire piece progresses over its 9 movements. The 6th movement, “Agnus Dei”, forms the linchpin around which the rest of the work turns. This is because “Agnus Dei” contains all of the major themes and elements of the piece as a whole, and is the most emotionally discordant section of the entire piece. After the 6th movement the work traces an arc that reaches its zenith in the glory of the 9th movement, the "Pie Jesu." The "Pie Jesu" is the final and ultimate message of the whole work: it asks for eternal rest for the dead, but for those still living today in Haiti, the Haitian-Creole finale message is, "Mache!" In English, the translation is something like an imperative commanding the Haitian people, “Walk!” Metaphorically, it is telling them to move on, to keep going, to keep trying, no matter what. Such simple language is the nature of the Haitian texts included in the work. They are given to understatement, which in its own way emphasizes their message even more. The 2 different texts in the piece — the Christian Latin and the Vodunist Haitian- Creole — engage in a back-and-forth dialogue with each other throughout the work, while simultaneously sending a single, unified message. There are 2 groups of victims of the earthquake in Haiti: those who passed away immediately because of the natural disaster, and those that remain behind to rebuild what was left of their lives. The transcendent, ethereal Latin is intended to address the concerns of the dead, while the pragmatic, mundane Haitian-Creole addresses the concerns of those still living (“mundane” there to be taken in its original etymological sense meaning “world” in Latin.) When the choirs or solo vocalists perform, they actually assume and become the people whose stories they are describing. For instance, in the 6th movement, “Agnus Dei,” the singers are given musical instructions in the score to sing "angrily and accusingly,” as if they were actually Haitian people in the aftermath of the Haitian earthquake. Furthermore, the choice of choral setting and timbre has been informed by the point of view that the narrator of each Haitian song assumes. It a member of the children’s choir who sings the story of losing a parent in “Agnus Dei;” it is a grown choir woman who describes the story of losing a child in the same movement. In “Gradual,” when 2 Haitian saints, the male Danbala and the female Ayida Wedo, are implied to be singing a Haitian song, it is actually a male singer (Danbala) and female singer (Ayida) who sing the text together. The oratorio-like nature of this work has been purposefully emphasized, in that this requiem is a sacred drama that is performed without staging apparatus (costumes, scenes, etc.). The text setting of this piece has thus been ordered and arranged in order to draw out these dramatic elements, while staying true to the nature of the Haitian indigenous religion and its culture. In certain instances, the musical structure is aligned with how the religion is actually practiced. The first Haitian "saint" who addressed in the piece, "Legba", is the spiritual entity who is invoked at the start of almost every Vodunist Rada rite. In other places Vodunist musical practices are employed, such as during the “Agnus Dei” and “Pie Jesu” movements. However, the music stays true to the idea and spirit behind Vodunist musical conventions, instead of trying to perfectly recreate indigenous Haitian religious music as much as possible. The Haitian rhythms in movement VI and IX have been adapted from the forms in which they are usually found by being slowed down. However, the Haitian drums all retain their respective functions that they have in actual Vodun drum ensembles: the maman is the leader, the boula heats up the music, and the segon initiates dialogue between the other drums, such as in the kase in movement VI. Sources for the songs and information on Haitian music in “Requiem For Victims Of The 2010 Earthquake In Haiti” were Gerdès Fleurant’s excellent book Dancing Spirits: Rhythms and Rituals Of Haitian Vodun, The Rada Rite and Lois Wilcken’s equally informative The Drums Of Vodou, featuring the work of Frisner Augustin. This entire project would not have been the same without their indispensable contributions. Sometimes, the inter-textual dialogue in this piece that was previously detailed is rather obvious. In movement VIII, “In Paradisum,” there is a song that details the lamentations of the Haitian people. They sing, “Because we are poor, they are bad- mouthing us.” In the Latin sung immediately after that, the choir represents the community of saints and souls in heaven reassuring the Haitian people. The Latin recalls the tale of Lazarus, a poor beggar who entered into heaven, as the choir sings, "May a choir of angels receive, and with Lazarus, who once was poor, may you have eternal rest.” Thus, a direct parallel is drawn between a Christian story and the Vodunists themselves. In other places, this dialogue is subtler, and the listener is heavily encouraged to listen carefully for it. The work was given its world premiere on April 19th, 2012, in Duke Chapel, under the direction of conductor Mr. Vincent L. Povaszáy and the University Of North Carolina At Chapel Hill Brass Quintet, Duke University Chapel Hill carilloneur Mr. Samuel Hammond, and a student choir and percussion ensemble that were supported by professionals. It was awarded with the Henry Schuman Award, The Duke University Music Department Senior Thesis Grant, The Duke Undergraduate Research in Creative Arts Grant, and an award of “high distinction” from a faculty jury. The requiem raised awareness of the ongoing relief efforts in Haiti, and generated hundreds in donations for Camillu’s house, an orphanage in Haiti. Special thanks goes to Dr. Anthony kelley, Dr. Benjamin C.S. Boyle, Dr. Rodney Wynkoop, Dr. Dewey Lawson, The Duke Haiti Lab, Mr. Samuel Hammond, as well as everyone else who made this work possible. A Note From The Composer On Its 2012 Premiere: The reason I wrote this requiem gets at what I believe the very purpose of music to be: to bring people together in a way that isn’t possible otherwise. To give voice to emotions and feelings that we have deep inside us but which we simply can’t describe accurately with words. In my research into the Vodun musical culture, some of the very different assumptions that they make about music struck me very deeply. Their songs have multiple functions: they are educative for young practitioners of Vodun, they are liturgical, and they are also comical and provide relief. But it all comes down to one thing: they sing these songs to make things happen. And I believe that is the power of music: to change our world in very real ways for the better. To make things happen. As in, this work was performed in Durham, North Carolina, on a random spring night in 2012, and the world is somehow a better place for it, as it is for any musical performance. That’s why I chose to write a requiem instead of going down to Haiti myself and doing charity work, something that is of course a very honorable thing for a person to do. But I thought I could make a bigger difference if I sent a message for help in a sort of language that everybody can understand: music. Hopefully this work moves many people to make a difference. And please note that there are many more ways, and some more valuable, to make a difference than with money.