Immunity Digital Booklet

JOSHUA ROM A N

JOSHUA ROMAN 2:37 6:48 3:55 8:33 8:01 4:24 4:09 4:30 2:26 5:33 6:12 2:51 Joshua Roman, cello, guitar, and vocals. Tessa Lark, violin and vocals (Tracks 6 & 12) Produced by Adam Abeshouse and Joshua Roman Engineered and Mastered by Adam Abeshouse. Assistant Engineering by Doron Schachter Photography by Shervin Lainez Recorded at Elmwood Road Studio, South Salem, NY - 2023

© 2024 • BSTC-0216 • brightshiny.ninja • All rights reserved.

Unauthorized replication & distribution prohibited

Joshua Roman is a cello soloist and composer, hailed for his “effortlessly expressive tone… and playful zest for exploration” (New York Times), as well as his “extraordinary technical and musical gifts" and “blend of precision and almost improvisatory freedom… that goes straight to the heart" (San Francisco Chronicle).

His genre-bending programs have grown out of an “enthusiasm for musical evolution that is as contagious as his love for the classics" (Seattle Times), and he has collaborated with artists including Yo-Yo Ma, Edgar Meyer, DJ Spooky, Tonywinner/MacArthur Genius Bill T. Jones, Grammy Award-winning East African vocalist Somi, and Tony Awardnominated actor Anna Deavere Smith.

Immunity’s conception came from the music that grounded me over the last three years as I faced the most difficult challenge of my life. Each piece represents a moment that has colored my experience with long COVID and the profound personal lessons and reflection it has inspired. My first solo album, the collective effect of these pieces, echoes the sentiment of music as a tool for healing and taps into our innate and boundless energy to create and share - Joshua Roman.

PROGRAM NOTES In January of 2021 I caught COVID, and unfortunately I never fully recovered. I realized something was wrong when I continued struggling to read after my initial infection – even basic sentences would sometimes not make sense. A few weeks later, I was returning home from the trip I had been on when I got sick, and when I arrived, the simple act of walking up the stairs to my bedroom completely laid me out. I only made it halfway, before falling to the floor of the landing, unable to continue or even lift myself into a sitting position. I lay there for half an hour, frustrated and crying.

It turns out I have long COVID, which causes a host of conditions and symptoms that differ from patient to patient. The dysautonomia, trembling, heart rate issues, cognitive difficulty, and physical fatigue are difficult to get used to – I was very proud of my under-six-minute-mile before catching COVID. Adapting to this new reality hasn’t been particularly graceful: after brute-forcing my way through two extremely important performances, I crashed hard. With nothing ahead on the calendar, I abandoned the daily practice routine I had been cultivating for over thirty years, which often took hours. I put my cello in its case, and left it there. Some of the doubts that had been lurking for years came to the surface. I had been stuck in the gig mentality for much of my career, waiting for the phone to ring and afraid to say "no" to any opportunity, unaware of the exhaustion that ran through my body and spirit.

I’ve always wanted to feel like what I do matters, but after decades of ambitious effort to play every note in tune, to make every phrase clear and powerful, it was hard to see that as a possibility through my fatigue. With the incredible difficulty I had even summoning the energy to lift the bow, let alone have a solid practice session, I lost hope that it mattered.

It was almost three months of dark soul searching before I finally literally dusted off the case and pulled out my cello again. A friend had asked me to perform for her summer solstice party and I reluctantly agreed, though I didn’t feel emotionally ready.

I waited until the last minute - the day before the party - to see whether my fingers still knew what to do. When I started to play those first notes, I was overcome with emotion feeling the sheer physicality of making sound. Even though I was out of shape, the power of the cello's vibrations moved me to tears. I’ve known this sensation as a familiar friend since I was three years old, but it dawned on me that I had stopped truly appreciating this connection long before COVID, that I had been so focused on the idea of my career as a means of giving music to others that I had lost sight of my own need for nourishment and connection through music.

So here we are. Rather than hide my struggle, I’ve chosen to do the hard work of changing deeply ingrained habits and letting go of my attachment to an identity that prioritized perfection over connection. It took a debilitating condition for me to confront myself and embrace a perspective that allows me to not only give, but to also receive the gift of music. I’m now committed to sharing the vulnerability that takes me out of my comfort zone, and that makes music an art not of perfection, but of humanity.

THE JOURNEY I’ve played Bach’s famous Prélude more than any other piece of music, and it is the sound of those opening notes that brought tears to my eyes when I ended the longest break from the cello of my life. It’s important for me to start this musical journey with something I’ve loved as long as I can remember, because it is by nature a vulnerable story to share. Each selection for Immunity holds deeply personal meaning, and together they represent not only the music that has carried me through the challenges of adapting to a debilitating condition, but also a cohesive and eclectic statement about what the cello has meant to me since I was a child.

Stolen - written for Amanda Gookin’s Forward Music Project 1.0 - is an incredible example of how music can be a powerfully expressive outlet, even when grappling with some of the darkest aspects of the human experience. I’ve always appreciated the soulful depth of the cello, and the range of emotions it can embody is where I find that it still has the ability to surprise.

So after delving deep, we turn to Mark Summer for his unbridled enthusiasm and tuneful catchiness in Julie-O, one of my most requested encores and the piece I paired with Bach for my friend’s solstice party. It is the kind of joyful tour de force that always provides the lift that I need after moments of darkness.

Where the organic rhythms of Julie-O drive forward and up, in manus tuas is grounded in emotion and meditation, with a presence and comfort that have helped ease me back into the physicality of playing. Taken from “Into your hands, I commend my spirit”, its name evokes the act of radical acceptance that has become one of my most challenging and important practices. Living with long COVID has highlighted the difficulty of maintaining structure around a condition that is wildly unpredictable and simultaneously learning to let go of control, and this paradoxical state is captured in the wild music of Penderecki.

While Capriccio may seem completely chaotic on the surface, just like in nature there is a beautiful underlying structure giving it shape. This piece is probably the most virtuosic of the album, requiring the broadest range of techniques and demanding an incredible amount of physical and mental coordination, which I now consider a fun test of my cognitive condition.

Easing from frenetic virtuosity to wistful loneliness, Duet was composed during the initial COVID lockdowns as I sat with nothing but cello and microphone, wishing for someone to make music with. My first time meeting Tessa Lark was also the first chamber music I played with others after my time with long COVID began, and we had an immediate music connection. She brings a human depth to the melodic line that far exceeds what I imagined while composing alone in the studio.

The Sonata of George Crumb has long inspired a different, primal kind of human energy through its haunting colors and clarity of form.The process of reworking my relationship with the cello has brought me to the point where performing this challenging work is musically and technically satisfying for the first time.

THE JOURNEY That’s not to say I’m done challenging myself: when I decided to write a new piece for this project, I put far too much pressure on myself to make a grand statement, and it took many improv sessions and much clarification of expectations before I found one of the most unabashedly joyful compositions I’ve ever written. I could not force myself to write the piece that I wanted, but when I let go and just played, I came away with the piece I needed: Immunity.

The two songs that close out the album are very personal - singing was a part of my childhood, but I fell away from it for a long time before I heard Jeff Buckley’s version of Hallelujah. I was so moved that the need to make music with words came rushing back to me, and is now something I cannot imagine living without.

Dust In The Wind is one of the first songs I learned on the guitar after hearing my father gently fingerpicking when I was a child. I have found that even with long COVID’s fatigue and cognitive struggles, I can play simple tunes on the guitar without overtaxing my brain and body in the way that other more vigorous music-making might, so Dust In The Wind and its lyrics have been a fairly constant presence since this ordeal began.

It speaks to mortality and acceptance, and the two pillars of thought that have dominated this period of my life.

The paradox is made manifest in the music chosen for this project, the process of making the album itself, and the quest that became Immunity: it is through learning to let go that we begin to find our true meaning and purpose.

HALLELUJAH Well I heard that there’s a secret chord That David played and it pleased the lord But you don’t really care for music, do you?

Well it goes like this: the fourth, the fifth, The minor fall and the major lift The baffled king composing Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Your faith was strong but you needed proof You saw her bathing on the roof Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya’ She tied you to a kitchen chair She broke your throne and she cut your hair And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah

You say I took the name in vain Well I don’t really know the name But if I did, well really, what’s it to you There’s a blaze of light in every word It doesn’t matter which you heard The holy or the broken Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah I did my best, it wasn’t much I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool ya’ And even though it all went wrong I’ll stand before the lord of song With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah

DUST IN THE WIND I close my eyes Only for a moment and the moment’s gone All my dreams Pass before my eyes a curiosity Dust in the wind All they are is dust in the wind Same old song Just a drop of water in an endless sea And all we do Crumbles to the ground though we refuse to see Dust in the wind All we are is dust in the wind

Now don’t hang on Nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky It slips away And all your money won’t another minute buy Dust in the wind All we are is dust in the wind Dust in the wind Everything is dust in the wind

SPECIAL THANKS Thank you to Adam Abeshouse for being with me in the ups and downs of my first album here at home, and never losing faith. Andrew Ousley, your encouragement and expertise are the reason Immunity is. Tessa Lark, from the moment we made music together I knew there was something special, thank you for being a bright light in my musical life. Lori Schiff, you have given me the tools to play, to live, to be aware. I would be so alone if not for Mount Sinai’s Long COVID Team, thank you for your constant searching, listening, sharing, and humility. Fay Leshner, you made me look good! Thank you so much to those who have supported the album financially: the Hostetlers, the Minegishis, Taylor Milsal and Danny Hillis, the Zimmermans, and Adriane Blaesing.

To the Bensons, you have supported me through this in so many ways, including an idyllic setting outside of the city to compose in, and a guitar that somehow ended up on the album! Moose, you’re such a good boy, and you’re so handsome. And Anna-Luisa, words do not capture what you have done to support, encourage, and love me through this all.

- Joshua Roman, cello

© 2024 • BSTC-0216 • brightshiny.ninja • All rights reserved.

Unauthorized replication & distribution prohibited