Choral Chameleon: 2017 - Summer Institute Program

Friday June 30th 2017 at 8pm

St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, 199 Carroll St. Brooklyn, NY

Vince Peterson, Founding Artistic Director Venite Carpe Noctem

Christopher Rust

Al HaNisim Tegan Miller, Conductor

Elliot Z. Levine

Locus Iste Lydia Jane Pugh, Conductor

Anton Bruckner

I miss you

Bryan Lin

Seashells

Jared Field

An Irish Blessing

Joshua Saulle

Dona Nobis Pacem

Emily Joy Sullivan

Love’s Philosophy Lydia Jane Pugh, Conductor

Vince Peterson

INTERMISSION Fuyou

Yangfan Xu

My Hiding Place (Psalm 32) Hoshiyeni Elohim (Rescue Me, O God) Hymn

Tegan Miller, Conductor Ronnie Romano, Pianist

Lydia Jane Pugh Nicholas Weininger Edward Poll

Oh Me!

Brian M. Rosen

In This Fateful Hour

Evan Crawford

Blessed Be You

Edward Thompson

A Prayer In Spring

Michael T. Roberts

The Ensemble Sopranos Erika Lloyd Liz Hanna Katelyn Miles Liz Geisewite

Altos Emily Crow Brooke Slemmer Suzanne Schwing Jonathan May

Tenors Alexander Canovas Matthew Krob Bill Heigen Evan Crawford Matt Oltman

Basses David Moon Scott Brown Ronnie Romano Vince Peterson Brian Rosen

A Note from the Board President Thank you for choosing to fly with Choral Chameleon today, to support these wonderful students and for being an open-minded and adventurous audience.

No really, thank you.

It’s a special sort of person who undertakes to go visit a neighborhood venue, without a full bar and air-conditioning, to hear unknown choral music by people who have yet to be, or if ever will be, lauded in the press. On a primetime summer evening.

Our student intake for the Choral Chameleon Summer Institute is broadening geographically year on year, and we worry that the large fan clubs of family and friends that each student used to bring with them in the past to provide an audience aren’t a luxury we can rely on any more. So this is also why your presence is doubly acknowledged tonight. And what a perfect way to end the Season: in the company of such an audience.

We’ve had a record-breaking Season in our 9th year, characterized by many, many invitations for our Ensemble and Chorus to participate in external projects with organizations and individuals with considerable followings – it has been a wild ride and very good for our own external profile. Our Mission to reinvent the Art of Choral Music from every perspective, however, requires us to nurture the future of our art form and to be working with composers and conductors, and to massage the musicianship and experience of our singers. The Summer Institute is the well we return to, and draw from, at the end of the year to renew our purpose.

If you would be interested in getting to know us more and would like to play a part in making our Mission a reality: e.g. through fundraising & advocacy, volunteering, provision of goods and services or Board Membership, please feel free to contact me at the email address below. Once again, we salute you for being here tonight and wish you an un-safe-yet-pleasant musical journey.

Nicole Belmont, Board President nicole@choralchameleon.com

Text/Translations/Notes From The Composer Venite Carpe Noctem Venite carpe noctem Si vis amari, ama

Come, let us seize the night.

If you wish to be loved, love.

From the Composer: Venite Carpe Noctem is a gentle invitation to examine not only how you spend your day but also your "off the clock" hours. With daily routines, responsibilities and, well...Netflix, it's easy to get lost in the mundane and ordinary. Look to those around you to discover something new.

The invitation ends with a reminder that "if you wish to be loved, love.”

Al HaNisim Al hanisim, v'al hapurkan, V'al hag'vurot v'al hatshu'ot, She'asita la'avoteinu Bayamim haheim, bazman hazeh.

Bimei matityahu ben Yochanan Kohen Gadol chash Mona uvanav K’sheamdah malchut Yavan al amcha Yisraeil L’hashkicham toratecha ul’ha’aviram meichu ke r’tzonecha V’ata b’rachamecha harabim Amad' talehem b’et tzaratam And [we thank You] for the miracles, for the redemption, for the mighty deeds, for the saving acts, and for the wonders which You have wrought for our ancestors in those days, at this time— In the days of Matityahu, the son of Yochanan the High Priest, the Hasmonean and his sons, when the wicked Hellenic government rose up against Your people Israel to make them forget Your Torah and violate the decrees of Your will.

But You, in Your abounding mercies, stood by them in the time of their distress.

Locus Iste Locus iste a Deo factus est, Inaestimable sacramentum, Irreprehensibilis est.

This place was made by God, a priceless sacrament; it is without reproach.

I miss you A: I miss you. All the time.

B: I have never met a more sad person than you. Ever.

A: I want my Jamie Oliver cookbook back.

It's been a year. Leave me alone.

-A: Are you up?

B: Unsubscribe -A: Hey B: Go away A: I just think we need to talk about some things B: We broke up 7 months ago so no, we don't A: You still have my Sonicare® though -A: You're a real dick, and no, that's not a drunk text A: I lied, that was a definitely a drunk text. My bad.

I don't want to be reminded of your tiny dick anymore but that doesn't stop you from sending me random dick pics whenever you get drunk off two shots of vodka you stupid douchebag.

Hope you never get married and die alone!

-A: I called B: I watched it ring From The Composer: (Disclaimer: this piece is not autobiographical.) While searching for potential lyrics, I remember riding the MUNI through Haight Street in San Francisco and hearing a man shouting on the phone to his girlfriend – I was inspired by how vulgar and extremely personal the conversation was. When I eventually first arrived at the Choral Chameleon Institute in Brooklyn, I searched online for “texts to exes” and compiled some of my favorites into this loose narrative.

However humorous these conversations are, there is a deep vulnerability that the authors have poured out and subsequently been met with rejection. It’s not my intent to make a profound statement about modern romance, or the way we communicate with loved ones, but I wanted to fragment melodic gestures that capture the authors’ longing or loathing together with minimalist repetition that underplays the absurdity of the responses.

Seashells From the composer: Seashells is part of a larger work consisting of settings of well-known tongue twisters. I enjoy the challenge of finding deeper meaning and beauty in these seemingly silly and child-like texts. For Seashells, I broke down the text "She sells sea shells by the sea shore" to explore the sound of the words and syllables themselves, and organized these sounds to capture an image of the seashore as seen from the perspective of the woman selling seashells there. The piece arises out of a quiet wave of shhhh and ssss sounds without pitch, which slowly builds and ultimately crashes on a beautiful climax before slowly fading away like the mist of the wave. I wanted to create the illusion of an endless seashore, where that woman will always be, selling seashells and watching the waves.

An Irish Blessing May the road rise up to meet you, May the wind be always at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face, And the rain fall soft upon your fields.

And until we meet again, my friend, May God hold you in the palm of his hand.

From the composer: While singing with the International Orange Chorale of San Francisco, I first encountered the wonderful setting of this text by Graeme Langager, which we often sang at SFO airport’s “Hear Now” series. The warmth of this piece never failed to capture many of the travelers hurrying through the terminal, drawing them in to listen. I would always pick one of those listeners and pretend I was singing directly to them, wishing them well on their journey. I strove in this piece to capture and relive that experience.

Dona Nobis Pacem Dona nobis pacem (Latin) Hamel Shanti Do. (Hindi) Sinike ukuthula. (Zulu) Da nos paz. (Spanish) Aatena al salaam (Arabic)

Grant (give) us peace

From the composer: My setting of the ubiquitous "Dona Nobis Pacem" hinges on reinterpreting it to mean "give us peace," not "grant us peace." While the latter sounds like typical passive supplication, the former suggests demand, maybe even an action. In my composition, I explore some of the many ways we plea for peace, seemingly without them being answered. Instead of enduring the pain of fragmentation and helplesssness of passivity, might we need to demand our rights and organize? Can we embrace unity in diversity in order to work towards the "world peace" so desired it became a cliché?

Love’s Philosophy Text by Percy Bysshe Shelley See the mountains kiss high heaven And the waves clasp one another; No sister-flower would be forgiven If it disdained its brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth And the moonbeams kiss the sea: What is all this sweet work worth If thou kiss not me?

Fuyou 蜉蝣

蜉蝣之⽻羽，⾐衣裳楚楚 Fu You Zhi Yu, Yi Chang Chu Chu ⼼心之忧矣，于我归处 Xin Zhi You Yi, Yu Wo Gui Chu 蜉蝣之翼，采采⾐衣服 Fu You Zhi Yi, Cai Cai Yi Fu ⼼心之忧矣，于我归息 Xin Zhi You Yi, Yu Wo Gui Xi 蜉蝣掘阅，麻⾐衣如雪 Fu You Jue Yue, Ma Yi Ru Xue ⼼心之忧矣，于我归说 Xin Zhi You Yi, Yu Wo Gui Shuo The wings of the ephemera Are robes, bright and splendid My heart is grieved Wound they come and abide with me The wings of the ephemera Are robes, various adorned My heart is grieved Would they come and rest with me The ephemera bursts from its hole With a robe of hemp like snow My heart is grieved Would they come and lodge with me From the composer: The poem "Fuyou" comes from "Shijing" (The Book Of Songs) which is an original work in Chinese poetry history and the earliest anthologies of verse in China. This piece uses the verse of the poem as the lyrics. Life of the ephemera (mayfly) is miserably short. However, they live in a pure, strong, beautiful way. The ephemera finally bursts from its hole. But where am I going?

What should my life be like?

Hiding Place (Psalm 32) You are my hiding place; You will protect me and surround me with songs For you instruct, and you teach the way to go With your loving eye you counsel me; unfailing love From the composer: All too often it is our inner most thoughts which dictate our behaviour and lead us in negative ways; to look for the dramatic gesture or take the road always travelled. There is beauty found in simplicity and joy to be found in vulnerability. It is the simple, quiet reflection and admission of our most vulnerable state, love, that we are all too eager to dismiss or ignore.

Hoshiyeni Elohim (Rescue Me, O God) Text from Psalm 69 Hoshiyeni Elohim ki bau mayim ad nafesh.

Tavati biven metzulah ve eyn maomad.

Bati bema’amakeh mayim ve shibolet shtafatni.

Yagati bekori nichar geroni kalu eynai me-yachel lelohai.

Elohim atah yadata livalti ve ashmotai mimkha lo nichadu.

Ki aleykha nasati cherpa; kistah khlimah panai.

Muzar hayiti le-'echai ve nokhri livney imi.

Ve ani tefilati lekha Adonai 'et ratzon.

Elohim berav chasdekha aneni be'emet yishekha.

Hatzileni mitit ve al-etba'a.

Inatzlah mi-sonai umima’amakeh mayim.

Altishtefeni shibolet mayim ve altivla'eni metzulah ve 'alte'ateralai be'er piha.

Ve altaster panekha meavdekha kitzarli maher aneni.

Aneni Adonai ki tov chasdekha k'rov rachameykha p'neh elai.

Rescue me, O God, for the water is up to my neck; I am sunk in the slime of the deep and there is no place to stand.

I am come into the deep water and the current has carried me away.

I am exhausted from my calling out; my throat is hoarse; my eyes fail from hoping for my God. Lord, you know my folly, and my sins are not hidden from you.

Because for thy sake I have born reproach; shame has covered my face.

I am become a stranger to my brethren and a foreigner to my mother's children.

But as for me my prayer is unto you, O God, in a favorable hour.

Lord, in your great lovingkindness, hear me in the truth of your salvation.

Deliver me out of the mire, and let me not sink.

Make me delivered from my enemies and from the deep water.

Do not let the current carry me away and do not let the deep swallow me up and do not let the pit shut its mouth upon me.

And do not turn your face from your servant, for I am in trouble; hear me quickly.

Hear me, O God, for your lovingkindness is good; because your compassion is great, turn to me.

From the composer: This piece sets Hebrew verses from Psalm 69 expressing, in turn, the narrator's distress, lament, and hope for rescue. The bass begins in the style of a cantor exclaiming "Rescue me, God, for the water is up to my neck," to which the choir responds and elaborates at length. The piece employs eerie, unsettled octatonic lines to express the dramatic situation of the narrator, caught between the possibilities of sudden death and sudden deliverance.

Hymn Text by Edgar Allen Poe At morn — at noon — at twilight dim — Maria! thou hast heard my hymn!

In joy and woe — in good and ill — Mother of God, be with me still!

When the hours flew brightly by, And not a cloud obscured the sky, My soul, lest it should truant be, Thy grace did guide to thine and thee; Now, when storms of Fate o’ercast Darkly my Present and my Past, Let my Future radiant shine With sweet hopes of thee and thine!

Oh Me!

O me! what eyes hath love put in my head?

Listen up and listen good my dark haired goddess I came across your profile and was quite enamored by such an articulate, heavenly blessed beauty.

No less than a wonder by Nature designed.

People like you exist and yet I contemplate that my eyes but deceive me as I have dreamt of the day that we would meet.

But you shall shine more bright in these contents Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time.

Beautiful smile and hair is profile pic! What brings site to you this?

What new paradigms could our lives beseech through commonality I don’t have any issues physically or emotionally.

My love is like a melody that's sweetly played in tune.

Walk with me when your heart needs company, Take my hand when you feel all alone, Turn to me when you need someone to lean on, Coz I’m the one you can always depend on!

Thou art my life, my love, my heart, The very eyes of me When are you come for be my bride?

I’m sorry if it’s a rude question, but I’m just being honest.

I attract a lot of bad energy. People always want to fight me.

I have needs…You owe me!

Listen up and listen good.

Never say that I was false of heart Did I do something wrong?

From the composer: I assembled the text for this piece as a mash up of lines from classical poetry, Shakespeare sonnets, and actual messages men have sent to women on dating applications such as Tinder and OKCupid. In this context, it is not always easy to tell the florid, overwrought prose sent by modern day Romeos from the original poems they were mimicking. I was particularly interested in exploring what makes some expressions of affection endearingly romantic and others disturbingly creepy. It is also fascinating (albeit horrifying) to see how quickly these declarations of undying love turn to aggression when the objects of their fantasies don't respond they way they're expected to.

While some moments of the piece may seem comedic, the underlying dynamics of these exchanges are anything but.

In This Fateful Hour In this fateful hour, I place all Heaven with its power, And the sun with its brightness, And the snow with its whiteness, And the fire with all the strength it hath, And the lightning with its rapid wrath, And the winds with their swiftness along their path, And the sea with its deepness, And the rocks with their steepness, And the earth with its starkness, All these I place

By God's almighty help and grace Between myself and the powers of darkness.

From the composer: In her book A Swiftly Tilting Planet, Madeleine L’Engle adapted a verse from the ancient prayer Saint Patrick’s Breastplate into a rune that the characters would recite for protection when they were in danger. L’Engle’s books were some of my favorites as a child and she often used the phrase “the Old Music” in her stories to refer a more spiritual and harmonious way of existing that she felt humanity had abandoned. As I was setting this text, I tried to evoke that sense of mysticism and connection with the cosmos. I imagined the voices in the choir in a dialogue, with the inner voices (alto and tenor) as the voices of humanity calling out for protection, and the outer voices (soprano and bass) as heaven, earth, and the elements responding. Only at the very end do all the voices finally come together to cast off all the “powers of darkness.”

Blessed Be You Text by Pierre Teilhard de Chardin Blessed be you, O matter, barren soil, stubborn rock: you who yield only to violence; you who force us to work if we would eat.

Blessed be you, perilous matter, violent sea, untameable passion; you who unless we fetter you will devour us.

You who, by constantly shattering our mental categories, force us to go even further and further in our pursuit of the truth.

Blessed be you, universal matter, unmeasurable time, triple abyss of stars and atoms and generations; you who by overflowing and dissolving our narrow standards of measurement reveal to us the dimemsions of God. From the composer: Chardin believed that we, as human beings, are constantly evolving and changing and that we are influenced by all things around us. Chardin words are about the interaction between matter and our consciousness. Simply stated; all of life is sacred.

A Prayer In Spring Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day; And give us not to think so far away As the uncertain harvest; keep us here All simply in the springing of the year.

Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white, Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night; And make us happy in the happy bees, The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.

And make us happy in the darting bird That suddenly above the bees is heard, The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill, And off a blossom in mid-air stands still.

For this is love and nothing else is love, The which it is reserved for God above To sanctify to what far ends He will, But which it only needs that we fulfill.

From the composer: Joy and pleasure, pleasure and joy! Robert Frost’s prayer (from his 1913 collection, A Boy’s Will) springs to life with blossoming apple orchards, happy bees, and darting hummingbirds—and our choir, perhaps a bit touched with spring fever, can’t help but read between the lines of Frost’s fertile imagery.