University Chorus, UGA Choral Project, and Contemporary Chamber Ensemble

EXPERIENCE MUSIC CONNECTION SERIES

UNIVERSITY CHORUS

UGA CHORALPROJECT WITH THE

CONTEMPORARY CHAMBER ENSEMBLE awakening encore performance

Love

& Laughter

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 13 at 7:30 p.m.

RAMSEY CONCERT HALL UGA PERFORMING ARTS CENTER 230 RIVER RD, ATHENS, GA music.uga.edu | 706-542-3737

@ugamusic

CONNECTION SERIES PROGRAM

University Chorus How Can I Keep from Singing

arr. Gwyneth Walker Diego Suarez, piano

At Home

Timothy Takach

I. I am at Home III. Good Bones IV. A place V. Together on the Porch Dylan Abbott, flute; Bailey Hume, clarinet

UGA Choral Project You Through Me

Alex Berko Daniel Shafer, tenor

Strum

Jessie Montgomery

Wire You here

Moira Smiley Hope Unger, soprano, Brooks Todd, tenor

Time

Jennifer Lucy Cook

Amara

John Rommereim Brandon Quarles, saxophone

The Awakening

Loren Loiacono Amy Petrongelli, soprano

Out of courtesy to the performers and fellow audience members, please silence all mobile devices before the concerts begin. Flash photography is strictly prohibited.

TEXTS AND PROGRAM NOTES

UNIVERSITY CHORUS How Can I Keep from Singing? arr. Gwyneth Walker (b. 1947)

My life flows on in endless song above earth’s lamentation.

I hear the real though distant song that hails a new creation.

Through all the tumult and the strife I hear the music ringing.

It sounds an echo in my soul, how can I keep from singing?

What though the tempest loudly roars, I hear the truth, it’s living!

What though the darkness round me close, songs in the night it’s giving!

No storm can shake my inmost calm while to that rock I’m clinging.

Since I believe that love abides, how can I keep from singing?

When tyrants tremble when they hear the bells of freedom ringing.

When friends rejoice both far and near, how can I keep from singing?

In prison cell, in dungeon dark, our thoughts to them are winging.

When friends hold courage in their heart, how can I keep from singing?

Original words titled “Always Rejoicing” printed in The New York Observer on August 27, 1868, attributed to “Pauline T.”, adapted by Gwyneth Walker

At Home

Timothy Takach (b. 1978)

I. I am at Home

I will wait here in the fields to see how well the rain brings on the grass.

In the labor of the fields longer than a man’s life I am at home. Don’t come with me.

You stay home too.

I will be standing in the woods where the old trees move only with the wind and then with gravity.

In the stillness of the trees I am at home. Don’t come with me.

You stay home too.

– Wendell Berry (Copyright © 2012 by Wendell Berry, from New Collected Poems. Reprinted by permission of Counterpoint Press.)

III. Good Bones

From the road, all tucked-in and tidy Between the hydrangeas and the twilight sky.

You’ve always like the old ones best For their charm, their good bones.

Gravity has a way of dropping Everything under the dresser Into the corner Can’t lose your marbles If you know (More or less) where they’ve gone.

Remember the first place we lived?

How there was room for the piano If we left it in the hallway?

Remember the winter nights?

How we laid awake waiting For the pipes to burst?

We turn up the lights (the bulb’s burned out) Add another coat of paint.

How many times have you tapped this nail Back into place?

Each wall tells a story.

Each floor sings the mockingbird’s song.

Light the candles, dim the lights, we’ll change the bulb another day.

You are wise, appreciate what was once straight now softly curves.

Still standing.

Good bones.

– Julia Klatt Singer (Commissioned poem. Used with permission.)

IV. A Place

There is a day when the road neither comes nor goes, and the way is not a way but a place.

– Wendell Berry (Copyright © 1998 by Wendell Berry, from A Timbered Choir. Reprinted by permission of Counterpoint Press.)

V. Together on the Porch

They sit together on the porch, the dark Almost fallen, the house behind them dark.

Their supper done with, they have washed and dried The dishes–only two plates now, two glasses, Two knives, two forks, two spoons–small work for two.

She sits with her hands folded in her lap, At rest. He smokes his pipe. They do not speak.

And when they speak at last it is to say What each one knows the other knows. They have One mind between them, now, finally For all its knowing will not exactly know Which one goes first through the dark doorway, bidding Goodnight, and which sits on a while alone.

– Wendell Berry (Copyright © 1998 by Wendell Berry, from A Timbered Choir. Reprinted by permission of Counterpoint Press.)

UGA CHORAL PROJECT You Through Me

Alex Berko (b. 1995); You Through Me (2022) On a text by Rūta Kuzmickas and Alex Berko From the composer: “You Through Me is a song about the Elizabeth Street Garden in SoHo, NY. It is a story about how a physical place is linked with our experiences and memories of it.

Beloved by area residents, the Elizabeth Street Garden draws over 125,000 visitors a year. In 2021, city officials announced a plan to build affordable housing on the site—a noble goal, but one that would destroy the garden. This dichotomy between who the space belongs to and what thoughts, emotions, and experiences we impress upon that place (and places in general) is at the heart of this piece. To express this concept more deeply, I chose to tell the story of the garden from the perspective of the garden itself; it observes, wonders, and at times, pleads, just as we do as humans.”

I look on as you walk through me You are my memory, my spine, Etched in these slabs of stone, These vines of tangled years,

Where will you go, you’ve always come to me, Where will you come to rest your weary eyes, To set your heavy sorrows in the soft helm of my soil, To let the weather water them to bloom

I’ve filled the branches of my trees with every phrase you wanted me to hear Like lyrics for the city birds to sing— The unsent letters you have Folded in your sleeves

If I am formed into another frame Leaves to brick and soil to stone A place to rest, a place to call your home Then I will surely never be alone

Dusk arrives to call you home Evasive as light, as hours We must spend apart, colors Of these walls turned grey till dawn And time and time in time again I’ll wind up carried by your shoes Along to where you land.

And time and time in time again Each time the rain keeps you away It’s you I wish it were instead

Come back to me just as you are To sleep within your quiet room To love and grieve and take the time you need For who knows what tomorrow brings Rest easy, you can always come to me And dry off from the storm under the eaves Take all that I can give, there is no end To time with you if there is time again, Time and time in time again.

Whether I am green or slate It’s you I wish would stay to rest Here in my bracing arms

TEXT AND PROGRAM NOTES

Strum

Jessie Montgomery (b. 1981) Strum (2006) for string quint From the composer: Strum is the culminating result of several versions of a string quintet I wrote in 2006. It was originally written for the Providence String Quartet and guests of Community MusicWorks Players, then arranged for string quartet in 2008 with several small revisions. In 2012 the piece underwent its final revisions with a rewrite of both the introduction and the ending for the Catalyst Quartet in a performance celebrating the 15th annual Sphinx Competition.

Originally conceived for the formation of a cello quintet, the voicing is often spread wide over the ensemble, giving the music an expansive quality of sound. Within Strum I utilized texture motives, layers of rhythmic or harmonic ostinati that string together to form a bed of sound for melodies to weave in and out. The strumming pizzicato serves as a texture motive and the primary driving rhythmic underpinning of the piece. Drawing on American folk idioms and the spirit of dance and movement, the piece has a kind of narrative that begins with fleeting nostalgia and transforms into ecstatic celebration.

Wire You Here

Moira Smiley (b. 1976) Wire You Here (2020) On an original text by the composer.

From the composer: Wire You Here is “an exploration of ever-changing connection and disconnection.”

Wire you here?

You you you you...

I’m reaching across to you now I reach, I reach to you now...

What carries me across the abyss What carries me across the abyss of us Carry me across the abyss of us...

Time

Jennifer Lucy Cook Time (2022) On an original text by the composer From the composer: “One of my favorite parts of being both a composer and a lyricist is the full permission to twist lyrics as much as I like, because the only person to answer to is myself!

“Time” allowed me to do exactly that. My goal was to convey the feeling of condensing time by removing lyrics upon each repetition, thereby changing the meaning in some profound as well as ridiculous ways.”

TEXTS AND PROGRAM NOTES

Time (continued) Time, you can spend it, when you spend it then you’re running out of Time, you can save it, but to save it is to take a little Time, in a minute, when you’re in it, can you feel the passing Time is an illusion, there’s confusion when they tell you now it’s Time to get older, time to work and time to waste and there’s no Time left to hold her, time to tell him how you feel while there’s still Time, three two one eleven thirty, two AM, then dinner Time now to kill, I said I will and still it flies and flies, oh Time Time, you can spend when you spend you’re running out of Time, you can save but to save it takes some Time, in a minute, you’re in it, feel passing Time is an illusion, confusion they tell you now it’s Time to get older, to work, time to waste, there’s no Time left to hold time to tell him while there’s still Time, three two eleven two AM, dinner Time now to kill, said I will still it flies oh Time Time you can when you you’re running out of save it take a little Time, minute, can you feel passing is an illusion, they tell you to get older, work, waste, there’s no hold her, tell him feel there’s Time, one, thirty, dinner Time, kill will still fly oh Time, you can spend it, when you spend it then you’re running out of Time, you can spend it when you spend it then you’re running out of Time, in a minute, when you’re in it, can you feel the passing Time They say Time to get older, time to work and time to waste and there’s no Time left to hold her, time to tell him how you feel while there’s still Time, three two one, eleven thirty, two AM, then dinner Time now to kill, I said I will and still it flies and flies, oh fly fly fly on Time

TEXTS AND PROGRAM NOTES

Amara

John Rommereim (b. 1958) Amara (2016) From the composer: Amara is an Igbo word for “grace.” The title for this piece was suggested by my wife Angela Voos, with help from her Nigerian friend Chinyere Ukabiala. After listening to me play and sing it at the piano, she told me that the directness and simplicity of the tune, and especially the calm breaths between phrases, seemed to evoke, for her, a sense of grace. I think this title suits the music perfectly. Since there is no text, and since there’s no linkage to any particular belief system or religion, each singer and listener can fill in the blanks on their own as to what grace is, and how this song might enact it.

The Awakening

Loren Loiacono (b. 1989) The Awakening (2012) Text adapted from the novel The Awakening (1899) by Kate Chopin (1850-1904) How strange and awful it seemed to stand naked under the sky! How delicious! She felt like some new-born creature, opening its eyes in a familiar world that it had never known.

The foamy wavelets curled up to her white feet, and coiled like serpents about her ankles. She walked out. The water was chill, but she walked on. The water was deep, but she lifted her white body and reached out with a long sweeping stroke. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.

She went on and on. She remembered the night she swam far out, and recalled the terror that seized her at the fear of being unable to regain the shore. She did not look back now, but went on and on, thinking of the blue-grass meadow that she had traversed when a little child, believing that it had no beginning and no end.

Her arms and legs were growing tired.

She thought of Leonce and the children. They were a part of her life. But they need not have thought that they could possess her, body and soul... “Good-by- because I love you.” He did not know; he did not understand. He would never understand.

Edna heard her father’s voice and her sister Margaret’s. She heard the barking of an old dog that was chained to the sycamore tree. The spurs of the cavalry officer clanged as he walked across the porch. There was the hum of bees, and the odor of pinks filled the air.

TEXTS AND PROGRAM NOTES From the Composer: When Kate Chopin’s The Awakening was first published in 1899, it was immediately scandalous. Chopin’s rise to prominence had been built on her ability to portray the “local color” of her adopted home of Louisiana. However, as her career continued, she began to turn her eye for detail from Louisiana to its individual inhabitants, producing incredibly nuanced, complex female characters. The culmination of this development was The Awakening, Chopin’s first and only novel. The Awakening follows Edna Pontellier, a young wife and mother, her passionate affair, ensuing misfortunes, and eventual demise. However, this salacious plot was not considered inherently scandalous by Chopin’s contemporaries.

The trope of “the fallen woman” could be found throughout 19th century art, from La Traviata to Madame Bovary. However, unlike these other works, Edna is neither condemned nor redeemed. Her slighted husband, although reserved, is shown to care for her. Her lover, although unreliable, is not a wicked seducer, but genuinely conflicted. This is not a moralistic tale, but instead a frank exploration of a woman’s role in contemporary society.

In the novel’s final scene, adapted for this piece, Edna has been shunned by society for her indiscretions, her husband has left her, and her children have been removed from her care.

Her lover has left her for the final time, leaving her a note, reading “Good-bye -because I love you.” Overcome by despair, Edna returns to the Gulf-side resort where she had first met him, and walks off into the Gulf of Mexico to drown. However, Chopin does not portray this as an inevitable punishment for Edna’s transgressions. Instead, this is Edna’s ultimate act of selfactualization. The final paragraphs of the novel follow Edna’s thoughts as she walks out. The elation and freedom of her nakedness, the seduction of the sea, her misgivings about leaving behind her life and family, her reassertion of her decision, and, finally, her distant thoughts of her childhood as her consciousness fades.

In setting the text, I chose to follow Chopin’s lead, and provide an experiential interpretation of the scene, instead of expressing any positive or negative judgment of Edna’s actions. The text is divided between a soprano soloist and a four-part chorus. However, the roles of each remain fluid; they collectively represent Edna’s consciousness as the action unfolds. The soprano soloist does not appear until Edna has entered the water, emboldened by Edna’s individualistic actions. As the soprano soloist recalls various memories of Edna’s childhood, the sopranos and altos immediately makes the association with Edna’s children, and begin to provide nagging doubts about them. As Edna’s consciousness begins to fade, the soprano soloist begins to become engulfed by the other voices, until finally, only the hazy memories embodied by the chorus remain.

UGA UNIVERSITY CHORUS Sarah Frook Gallo, conductor Thomas Dixon, graduate assistant Diego Suarez, collaborative piano Emilia Amaya Martin Arnade Mariah Arnold Nora Avery Diana Aviña Shari Barnes Katie Boyle Jackie Broadwell Anna Brown Ansley Bryan Benjamin Burnham Emma Carbo Carina Cardoso de Araujo Sae Cenicola Shirley Chen Jayden Chong Hope L. Cobbs Grace Deaton Thomas Dixon Paul Downy Sherry Downy Ansley Dyer Macey Dyer Jeffery D. Fairley, II Robert Freedman Aram Gallman Susan Garrett Audrey Georges Emma Gile Lilia Goldberg Paulo Gomes Marjanne Gooze Neha Gregory Abigail Hallman Sadie Hammond David Harvey Elise Hearn Chris Herring Rhonda Herring Celine Houenou

Charlotte Howard Finnegan Howard Patrick Humes Erin Ideker Maya Iyer Elizabeth Izzo Hali Jang Jasmine Jensen Aakash Joshi Kumiko Kashii Jacqueline Kerr Beata Kochut Natalie Kramer Rachel Yoonseo Lee Beth Lewis Grace Lorys Rayvon Love Jennifer Luo Adelaide Mangum Hannah Marston Andres Matlock Monica Mazurek Alexandria McConkey Susan McLeish Kathryn Miller Paola Mora Galazzo Er’el Moyal Ally Murari Emaline Newbury Caitlien Nguyen Camilla Nivison Laura O’Neil Colette Pampu Hannah Perdue Stephen Pollard Audrey Raynor Lillie Reihing Sophia Rhoads Eva Rivers John Royal

Ashley Rutledge

Braden Rymer Kostandinos Salamanopoulos-Rymer Stella Schroter Eva Jacqueline Sell Kathrine Servaes Daniel Shafer Sneha Sharma Benjamin Sharp Annabel Shue Angela Smith Rebecca Smith Angela Stewart Seaton Stiles Calvin Stovall Audrey Ta Liam Taylor Emily Theisen Aidan Thompson Kenny Tsao SJ Ursrey Charlotte Varnum Nathan Vazquez Dyuti Venkatesh Jenna Vidal Susan Virkler Sarah Visser Josh Wagner Gary Weed Beth Weigle Dellar Weldon Karen Whelchel-Redwine Lauren Wiggins Sandy Woods Anna Wright Sung-Eun Yang Sylveste Zimmermann

UGA CHORAL PROJECT Sarah Frook Gallo, conductor Daniel Shafer, Choral Project manager Olivia Baxley

Lauren Labarre

Alessandra Sayers

Jeff Unger

Cameran Butryn

Rayvon Love

Daniel Shafer

Marlee Van Mullekom

Arielle Crumley

Abigail McMillan

Rebecca Smith

Audrey Vazquez

Presley Dale

Barrett Meadows

Kathleen Sullivan

Joshua Wagner

Joshua Dixon

Ally Murari

Brooks Todd

Ryan Ward

Thomas Dixon

Braden Rymer

Hope Unger

Demetreon Wells

Singers listed in alphabetical order by last name.

UGA CONTEMPORARY CHAMBER ENSEMBLE Brandon Quarles, conductor Dylan Abbott, flute and piccolo Bailey Hume, clarinet and bass clarinet Joshua Wood, horn Danny Alford, trombone Alexis Boylan, violin Sean Smith, violin Rogelio Bonilla-Piedra, viola Zachary Helms, cello Wueliton Dal Pont, bass Euan Maley, percussion

“Awakening” performance January 12, 2024. Photo by Chamberlain Smith.

THE LOVE OF MUSIC AT UGA WED 2/14

7:30 p.m.

Hodgson Hall, UGA PAC FREE CONCERT NO TICKETS REQUIRED

THURS 2/15 7:30 p.m.

Hodgson HalL

SHARED CONCERT

SYMPHONIC UGA WINDMICHAEL SYMPHONY HEALD BAND VIOLIN

THURSDAY SCHOLARSHIP SERIES

STUDENT CHAMBER MUSIC GALA

The second year of the UGA Student Chamber Music Gala features some of our premier small ensembles: Bulldog Brass Society, Southern Wind Quintet,

$3 UGA STUDENT TICKETS ADULTS $20 WITH VALID UGA STUDENT ID CARD

Tickets: music.uga.edu | 706-542-4400

TUES 2/20 7:30 p.m.

Hodgson Hall

UGA Wind Ensemble

DECONSTRUCTED

The program includes SEER by Erik Santos, featuring UGA Voice Faculty Gregory Broughton and Concerto for Alto Saxophone and Wind Ensemble by Ingolf Dahl preformed by Concerto winner Michael Chapa.

$3 UGA STUDENT TICKETS ADULTS $15 WITH VALID UGA STUDENT ID CARD

Tickets: music.uga.edu | 706-542-4400

THURS 2/22 7:30 p.m.

Hodgson Hall

Happy Birthday Anton Bruckner

In celebration of Austrian composer Anton Bruckner, UGASO presents Bruckner’s Symphony No. 4 along with selections from Midsummer Night’s Dream by German composer Felix Mendelssohn.

$3 UGA STUDENT TICKETS ADULTS $15 WITH VALID UGA STUDENT ID CARD

Tickets: music.uga.edu | 706-542-4400

Hugh Hodgson School of Music, 250 River Road, Athens, GA, 30602 Phone: 706-542-3737 Website: music.uga.edu

@ugamusic