Eric Whitacre Conductor and Composer-In-Residence
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MARK SINGLETON, ARTISTIC DIRECTOR presents: Prelude ERIC WHITACRE CONDUCTOR AND COMPOSER-IN-RESIDENCE Tuesday, October 22, 2019 – 7:00pm Immanuel Congregational Church 10 Woodland Street, Hartford, CT 06105 We Don’t Follow The Latest Trends. WE’RE OUT AHEAD OF THEM. At Seabury, the future is already here. Our recent expansion is complete, with state-of-the-art features and amenities, including: Environmental Sustainability Solar, car charging, geothermal, protected land and open space Residence Style Choices Beautifully-appointed apartments and cottages Innovative Fitness & Wellness Personal training, land and water-based group exercise classes, recreational sports Flexible Dining Options Casual bistro, upscale dining room and marketplace options Diverse Lifestyle Possibilities Visual and performing arts, lifelong earning, volunteerism And More! Call 860-243-4033 or 860-243-6018 to schedule a tour today, or sign up for our twice-monthly information sessions. 200 Seabury Drive Bloomfield, CT 06002 www.seaburylife.org PROGRAM All works composed by Eric Whitacre (b.1970) Act 1: Lux Nova The City and the Sea I. i walked the boulevard II. the moon is hiding in her hair III. maggie and milly and molly and may IV. as is the sea marvelous V. little man in a hurry A Boy and a Girl Leonardo Dreams of His Flying Machine The Seal Lullaby ~ Intermission ~ Act 2: Cloudburst Featuring Primi Voci of the Connecticut Children’s Chorus Selections from The Sacred Veil III. Home VII. I am Here VIII. Delicious Times XI. You Rise, I Fall XII. Child of Wonder ~ Fini ~ Encore Sleep Texts and Translations Lux Nova Text by Edward Esch (b. 1970) Translated to Latin by Charles Anthony Silvestri (b. 1965) Lux, Light, Calida gravisque pura velut aurum warm and heavy as pure gold Et canunt angeli molliter and the angels sing softly modo natum. to the new-born babe. The City and the Sea Text by E.E. Cummings (1894-1962) I. i walked the boulevard i walked the boulevard while nearby the father i saw a dirty child a thick cheerful man skating on noisy wheels of joy with majestic bulbous lips pathetic dress fluttering and forlorn piggish hands behind her a mothermonster joked to a girlish whore with red grumbling face with busy rhythmic mouth cluttered in pursuit and silly purple eyelids pleasantly elephantine of how she was with child II. the moon is hiding in her hair the moon is hiding in her hair. close her with the intricate faint birds The lily of heaven by daisies and twilights Deepen her, full of all dreams, draws down. Recite upon her flesh cover her briefness in singing the rain’s pearls singly-whispering. III. maggie and milly and molly and may maggie and milly and molly and may and molly was chased by a horrible thing went down to the beach (to play one day) which raced sideways while blowing bubbles: and maggie discovered a shell that sang and may came home with a smooth round stone so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles, as small as a world and as large as alone and milly befriended a stranded star for whatever we lose (like a you or a me) whose rays five languid fingers were; it's always ourselves we find in the sea IV. as is the sea marvelous as is the sea marvelous from god’s hands but the sea does not change which sent her forth to sleep upon the world and she goes forth out of hands and and the earth withers the moon crumbles returns into hands and is with sleep… one by one stars flutter into dust love, the breaking of your soul upon my lips V. little man in a hurry little man (little child big rain (in a hurry who have tried big snow full of an important worry) who have failed big sun halt stop forget who have cried) big moon halt stop relax lie bravely down (hurry enter us) wait sleep A Boy and a Girl Text by Octavio Paz (1914-1998) stretched out on the grass, stretched out on the beach, stretched out underground, a boy and a girl a boy and a girl a boy and a girl savoring their oranges savoring their limes, saying nothing never kissing, giving their kisses like waves giving their kisses like giving silence for silence. exchanging foam. clouds exchanging foam. Leonardo Dreams of His Flying Machine Libretto-breve by Charles Anthony Silvestri Italian fragments taken from the notebooks of Leonardo Da Vinci (1452-1519) Leonardo Dreams of his Flying Machine… Vicina all’ elemento del fuoco . Tormented by vision of flight and falling, (Close to the sphere of elemental fire . .) More wondrous and terrible each than the last, Scratching quill on crumpled paper, Master Leonardo imagines an engine Rete, canna filo, carta. To carry a man up into the sun . (Net, cane, thread, paper.) And he’s dreaming the heavens call him, Images of wing and frame and fabric fastened tightly. Softly whispering their siren-song: . sulla suprema sottile aria. “Leonardo, Leonardo, vieni a volare.” (. in the highest and rarest atmosphere.) (“Leonardo, Leonardo, come fly.”) L’uomo colle sua congiengniate e grandi ale, Master Leonardo Da Vinci facciendo forza contro alla resistente aria. Dreams of his Flying Machine… (A man with wings large enough and duly connected As the midnight watchtower tolls, might learn to overcome the resistance of the air.) Over rooftop, street and dome, The triumph of a human being ascending Leonardo Dreams of his Flying Machine… In the dreaming of a mortal man. As the candles burn low he paces and writes, Leonardo steels himself, Releasing purchased pigeons one by one Takes one last breath, Into the golden Tuscan sunrise . and leaps . And as he dreams, again the calling, “Leonardo, Vieni a Volare! Leonardo, Sognare!” The very air itself gives voice: (“Leonardo, Leonardo, come fly! Leonardo, Dream!”) “Leonardo, Leonardo, vieni a volare.” (“Leonardo, Leonardo, come fly.”) The Seal Lullaby Text by Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936) Oh! Hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us, And black are the waters that sparkled so green. The moon, o’er the combers, looks downward to find us At rest in the hollows that rustle between. Where billow meets billow, then soft be thy pillow; Ah, weary wee flipperling, curl at thy ease! The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark overtake thee, Asleep in the arms of the slow-swinging seas. Cloudburst Text by Octavio Paz (1914-1998) Adapted by Eric Whitacre, translation by Lysander Kemp (1920-1992) La lluvia The rain ... ojos de agua de sombra, Eyes of shadow-water ojos de agua de pozo, eyes of well-water ojos de agua de sueño. eyes of dream-water. Soles azules, verdes remolinos Blue suns, green whirlwinds, picos de luz que abren astros pecks of light that open como granadas. pomegranate stars. Dime, tierra quemada, no hay agua? But tell me, burnt earth, is there no water? Hay sólo sangre, sólo hay polvo, Only blood, only dust, sólo pisadas de pies desnudos sobre la espina? only naked footsteps on the thorns? La lluvia despierta The rain awakens ... Hay que dormir con los ojos abiertos, We must sleep with open eyes, Hay que soñar con las manos, We must dream with our hands Soñemos sueños activos de rio, we must dream dreams of active rivers Buscando su cause, sueños de sol soñando sus Searching for their cause mundos Dreams of the sun dreaming of its worlds hay que soñar en voz alta, we must dream aloud, hay que cantar we must sing till the song hasta que el canto eche casts roots, raíces, tronco, ramas, trunks, branches, birds, stars, hay que desenterrar la palabra perdida we must unearth the lost word, recordar que dicen sangre, la marea, and remember what the blood, the tides, la tierra y el cuerpo, the earth, and the body say, volver al punto de partida. and return to the point of departure. Selections from “The Sacred Veil” III. Home as all the kindergarten stared, Text by Charles Anthony Silvestri open-mouthed in wonderment. It’s been a very funny week. You feel like home. The kids have been amazing, And we’ve had some really delicious times together. VII. I am Here Stephen Scarlato, Piano, Sophie Shao, Cello XI. You Rise, I Fall Text by Charles Anthony Silvestri VIII. Delicious Times Text by Julie Silvestri Listening to your labored breath your struggle ends and mine begins. My hair started to fall out at precisely You rise, I fall. one o’clock on my birthday. Fading yet already gone By Thursday it was making a terrible mess what calls you I cannot provide? so the kids helped me shave off whatever was left. You rise, I fall. They’d pick up my hair from the ground, Broken with a heavy hand And slap it on my head and say: I reach to you and close your eyes. “You need more hair!” You rise, I fall. and they would laugh and laugh. Then at bathtime I wore my wig XII. Child of Wonder And they would beg me to take it off Text by Eric Whitacre and put it back on again, And they would laugh, they howled with laughter. Child of wonder, child of sky. At bedtime when my little one plays with my hair, Time to end your voyage time to die. She just stroked my head and said Silent slumber calls you dark and deep, “It’s so soft and clean!” child of soft surrender, child of sleep, She says, “Mommy your hair went bye-bye, child of sorrow, child of rain.