A personal note by eighth blackbird
"Before there was earth or sea or the sky that covers everything,
Nature appeared the same throughout the whole world: what we call chaos:
a raw confused mass, nothing but inert matter, badly combined discordant
atoms of things, confused in the one place… This conflict was ended
by a god and a greater order of nature, since he split off the earth
from the sky, and the sea from the land, and divided the transparent
heavens from the dense air. When he had disentangled the elements,
and freed them from the obscure mass, he fixed them in separate spaces
in harmonious peace." — from Ovid: Metamorphoses, Book I*
How did the world begin? How did life come about? Religion has given
us vivid poetic descriptions of the creation, and it has inspired literature
attributing the creating force to God, a god, or an unending cycle
that has no beginning and no end. Science has given us the Big Bang,
with its single point of super-condensed proto-matter exploding to
create innumerable celestial bodies, and Darwin, who explained how
man evolved from the failed species that came before us. No matter
what we believe, we are fascinated by our beginnings, and we are continually
striving for explanations that satisfy our desire to know ourselves
better.
Whether coming from Daniel Kellogg's Christian beliefs or George
Crumb's fascination with the timelessness of nature, both pieces
on this disc share an incredible commonality of musical responses to
these questions. Both pieces explore the inherent violence of creation,
whether in short outbursts, as in the opening of the Kellogg, or in
the jagged, piercing melody heard at the beginning of the Crumb. Both
pieces move from this violence to joyful celebrations and tender contemplations,
using the full dynamic range and color palette at each composer's
disposal. Both pieces offer long, expansive lines and melodies, defying
and stretching time in an attempt to prolong the emotions contained
within the composers' musical outpouring.
For us, playing and interpreting these works, their clearest common
bond is the breadth of human experience they suggest. Though Kellogg
and Crumb are inspired by different backgrounds and beliefs, these
two pieces bring out the same incredibly wide range of emotions, reminding
us that it is the totality of a person's experiences that, taken altogether,
make a life. Whether leading to the boisterously jubilant ending of
the Kellogg or the quietly exultant last strain of the Crumb, both
pieces celebrate the fact that we live, that the universe does exist,
that out of the obscure chaos, a harmonious peace has been achieved.
We do not know how the world began, but we do know that these pieces
tell that story much better than we ever could. — eighth blackbird
*Translated by A.S. Kline, 2000-2004, All Rights Reserved.
Reprinted by permission of the author, www.tonykline.co.uk
Notes on Divinum Mysterium (2000) by Daniel Kellogg (b. 1976)
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and
the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were
made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made.
In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines
in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." — John
1:1-5 (ESV)
The opening verses of John's Gospel and the several that follow are
among my favorite passages of scripture. John writes that not only
was the world created through Christ, but Christ is also the light
that will overcome the darkness by restoring the creation. This was
the plan from before there was existence: it is circular, beautiful,
and offers complete hope. We humans are not in fact a cosmic accident
but are the result of the greatest work of art (the creation), by the
greatest artist (Christ). We are not alone, but in fact are loved.
This piece is a personal response to the overwhelming beauty of the
creation and the magnificent forces that were involved in its beginnings.
I am moved to capture glimpses of this story in music. I wanted to
dwell on God's terrifying presence and power, His Light that is all
glorious, His compassion and love, and the response of rejoicing.
Divinum Mysterium is the name of a text by Prudentius that was translated
and set as a hymn called "Of the Father's Love Begotten." Singing
this hymn each Advent season in our family's church is one of the most
beautiful and striking experiences in my musical memory. It was unlike
any other musical experience I knew: we sang it in unison and without
accompaniment except for tonic bell tones between the phrases. I felt
connected to the people of ancient times who used it to express their
praise, and yet it felt vibrant and contemporary. It remains my favorite
hymn.
When I set out to write a piece about the creation this melody came
to mind as the perfect vehicle to represent my Christian understanding
of the creation. This melody is sung at the beginning of the piece,
played by piano and cello at the end, and woven throughout each movement.
Evermore and evermore. — Daniel Kellogg
Divinum Mysterium is a Catherine Shouse Commission. It was commissioned
by eighth blackbird as part of the national series of works from Meet
the Composer/Arts Endowment Commissioning Music/USA. This commissioning
program is made possible by generous support from the Catherine Filene
Shouse Foundation with additional support from the National Endowment
for the Arts, the Helen F. Whitaker Fund, and the Dayton Hudson Foundation.
The Washington Post calls Daniel Kellogg, born in 1976, "the
most generously gifted of the American under-30s." His music has
been played throughout the United States and heard on National Public
Radio's "Performance Today," New York's WQXR, and China National
Radio. In 2002, Young Concert Artists chose him as its Composer-in-Residence.
Kellogg has received commissions from eighth blackbird, the Ying Quartet,
the Claremont Trio, the Pittsburgh New Music Ensemble, 20th Century
Consort, and Soli Deo Gloria. Mr. Kellogg's honors include a 2003 Charles
Ives Fellowship from the American Academy of Arts and Letters, the
2003 ASCAP Rudolf Nissim Award, a 2003 ASCAP Morton Gould Young Composer
Award, and the 2000 William Schuman Prize of BMI. During 2000-2001
he served as the Sackler Master-Artist-in-Residence at the University
of Connecticut. Kellogg holds two masters degrees from the Yale School
of Music and a B.M. from the Curtis Institute of Music. His teachers
have included Don Freund, Ned Rorem, Jennifer Higdon, Joseph Schwantner,
Ezra Laderman, and Martin Bresnick. Praised by The New York Times for
its "precise, pure, and deeply felt singing," the acclaimed
vocal ensemble Chanticleer has developed a remarkable reputation for
its vivid interpretations of vocal literature, from Renaissance to
jazz, and from gospel to venturesome new music. With its seamless blend
of twelve male voices, ranging from countertenor to bass, San Francisco-based
Chanticleer has recorded exclusively for Teldec Classics International
since 1994.
Notes on Vox Balaenae (Voice of the Whale) (1971) by George Crumb
Vox Balaenae was inspired by the singing of the humpback whale, a
tape recording of which I had heard two or three years previously.
Each of the three performers is required to wear a black half-mask
(or visor-mask). The masks, by effacing the sense of human projection,
are intended to represent, symbolically, the powerful impersonal forces
of nature (i.e. nature dehumanized). It's an abstract piece of nature-music,
in that I let the sounds of the instruments suggest the quality of
the whale song. I wrote an evocation of nature, using artistic license,
like Beethoven in his Sixth Symphony. When people hear the summer storm,
they don't go rushing for their umbrellas… Reading about the Big
Bang inspired the violence of the opening Vocalise (marked in the score "wildly
fantastic, grotesque"). I included a parody of Strauss's Also
Sprach Zarathustra because there's something kind of primeval
in the Nietzsche itself - it suggests going way back in time, and the
language is almost biblical in its nature. The variations are named
after geological eras to symbolize infinite antiquity, a time immeasurably
in the past. In the concluding Sea-Nocturne ("serene, pure, transfigured"),
I wanted to suggest "a larger rhythm of nature" and a sense
of suspension in time. The concluding gesture of the work is a gradually
dying series of repetitions, suggesting a diminuendo beyond the threshold
of hearing. — George Crumb
Born in 1929, George Crumb is one of the eminent composers of our
time. He has received numerous awards, including the 1968 Pulitzer
Prize in Music and a Grammy for Best Contemporary Composition for Star-Child.
Crumb has taught at Hollins College, the University of Colorado at
Boulder, SUNY Buffalo, and, for 32 years, at the University of Pennsylvania
at Philadelphia, retiring from teaching in 1997. His own teachers included
Eugene Weigler, Boris Blacher, and Ross Lee Finney. Among Crumb's early
works, his Three Early Songs for voice and piano (1947), Sonata for
Solo Violoncello (1955), and Variazioni for orchestra (1959) are the
best known. Crumb did not gain international fame until the 1960s,
however. His Five Pieces for Piano (1962) mark the beginning of his
mature period, characterized by the frequent use of extended techniques
and electrified or amplified instruments to create distinctive sound
worlds. The Five Pieces for Piano were followed by many works that
garnered popular and critical success, including Black
Angels for electric
string quartet (1970); Ancient Voices of Children for mezzo-soprano,
boy soprano, oboe, mandolin, harp, amplified piano and toy piano, and
percussion (1970); Makrokosmos Volumes 1 and 2 for amplified piano
(1972, 1973); and Vox Balaenae (1971).
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