Drei Gesänge

I have uploaded the tracks of my work, "Drei Gesänge" (Three Songs) for soprano and Chamber Orchestra. They are already on youtube, but the format is much more attractive here -- the texts actually look like poems in this format. The soloist is the superb Sarah Tannehill, performing with the UMKC Chamber Orchestra, Robert Olson, conductor. The performance, a premiere, took place on October 10th, 2008 in White Hall of the James C. Olson Performing Arts Center in Kansas City, Missouri.

1. Herbst

Herbst (Rainer Maria Rilke)

Die Blätter fallen, fallen wie von weit,
als welkten in den Himmeln ferne Gärten;
sie fallen mit verneinender Gebärde.
Und in den Nächten fällt die schwere Erde
aus allen Sternen in die Einsamkeit.
Wir alle fallen. Diese Hand da fällt.
Und sieh dir andre an: es ist in allen.
Und doch ist Einer, welcher dieses Fallen
unendlich sanft in seinen Händen hält.

"Autumn"

The leaves fall, fall as from afar,
as if distant gardens in the heavens were wilting:
They fall with a negating gesture.
And in the nights the heavy earth
falls from the myriad of stars into emptiness.
We are all falling. This hand is falling.
And look at others: it is the same with us all.
And yet there is One who holds this falling with infinite gentleness in his hands.

2. Hälfte des Lebens

"Hälfte des Lebens" (Johann Friedrich Hölderlin)

Mit gelben Birnen hänget
Und voll mit wilden Rosen
Das Land in den See,
Ihr holden Schwäne,
Und trunken von Küssen
Tunkt ihr das Haupt
Ins heilignüchterne Wasser.

Weh mir, wo nehm' ich, wenn
Es Winter ist, die Blumen, und wo
Den Sonnenschein,
Und Schatten der Erde?
Die Mauern stehn
Sprachlos und kalt, im Winde
Klirren die Fahnen.

"Half of Life"

Hung with yellow pears
and full of wild roses
the earth bows into the lake,
O blessed swans,
inebriated with kisses
you dip your heads
into the holy, sobering waters.
Pity me! But where will I find,
when it is winter, the flowers,
and where the sunshine
and the shadows on the earth?
The walls remain mute
and cold, the weathervanes
rattle in the wind.

3. Gesang des Orpheus

"Gesang des Orpheus" (Rainer Maria Rilke)
Wandelt sich rasch auch die Welt
wie Wolkengestalten,
alles Vollendete fällt
heim zum Uralten.
Über dem Wandel und Gang,
weiter und freier,
währt noch dein Vor-Gesang,
Gott mit der Leier.
Nicht sind die Leiden erkannt,
nicht is die Liebe gelernt,
und was im Tod uns entfernt,
ist nicht entschleiert.
Einzig das Lied überm Land
heiligt und feiert.

Sonnet to Orpheus, Part I: xix

Though the world changes form
as quickly as do clouds,
all things completed return
to their source.
Over tumult and change, soaring
unbounded and free,
your prelude endures,
god with the lyre.
The pain of life is not acknowledged,
the lessons of love are not learned
and what Death has veiled,
is never revealed.
Only your song throughout the world
consecrates and rejoices.

Glurns

It has been six weeks since I returned from Europe. Now that the crisp, clear days of autumn have arrived I can't help thinking back nostalgically to the Alps, wishing I were there now, hiking in the serenity and glory of the mountains. Some of the most memorable moments of the entire summer are from the drive from Graz through the Alps to Switzerland and back. I covered a great deal of territory in too short a time and wish, especially, that I had spent more time in the South Tyrol. I have already posted my fleeting impressions of that segment of the journey along with some of my own pics on this blog, but there are plenty of photos I did not post. I intend now to add a few of the unpublished pics as I reconsider them.

In a blog posting I mentioned passing through the small medieval town of Glurns in the South Tyrol, the Alto Adige, in a corner of Italy that abuts both Switzerland and Austria. Glurns is the last town on the road heading towards the Swiss border at Mustair. I just passed through Glurns, driving under an ancient tower of the medieval walls and exiting at the other end. I did stop long enough, however, to take one snapshot, parking my vehicle in a small carpark on the side. Glurns was an enchanting place - at least for the ten minutes I spent there! It was such a surprise to come across this little town in the middle of nowhere. I have since done a little research on Glurns. It is considered the smallest town in the Tyrol with a population of 800 and celebrates a history that goes back to the 12th century; in Roman times it was a trading post on the north/south route traversing the Alps. It was once an important town. The German name Glurns is derived from a much older Rhaetio-Romansch word. The Italian appellation for the place, Glorenza, is admittedly much prettier, but it is a creation of the 20th century, after the region was amputated from the corpse of the Habsburg Empire and presented to Italy after The Great War.

I have temporarily selected my photo of the Glurnser Haupstrasse to be the wallpaper on my laptop. I still want to savor that moment frozen in time. It was, I remember, a warm afternoon in late June, a Saturday. There is not one soul to be seen on the street (though I did see people out and about when I turned the corner). The buildings, possibly four or five hundred years old, lean slightly like old men hobbling down the street. The cobblestones are well-worn. An old church tower is visible a short distance away, and beyond that the mountains that are probably on the Swiss side of the border. The other, admittedly finer, photos show the town to better advantage. (Unless I had rented a plane I wouldn't have gotten the aerial perspective.) The sporty convertible on the right is not mine; the ugly barricade on the left mars the view. But still, this is the moment I remember, a brief glimpse of a delightful, peaceful and somewhat mysterious place in a forgotten corner of the world.