Deploration (2002)
Deploration is a work for choir and organ that was written in memory of Bill Albright, my friend, mentor, and colleague.
The piece was inspired by in part by the text of Josquin's Deploration on the Death of Ockeghem written by Jean Molinet--I borrowed both the invocation of the spirits of the wood and the call to his colleagues by name. The piece becomes a call to take heed not just of the gifts Bill had to offer us, but also of the lessons that his life and death might bring home as well.
Our remembrances of Bill include the great sensitivity, beauty, gentleness and humor that he was capable of; they also include the considerable measure of hurt, rage, anger and loss that lived inside of him. This piece is a lament for my own personal loss and for our collective loss of a great master, but it is also a warning not to give in to the darkness that we all have in our hearts, and not to let our demons silence our songs.
DEPLORATION
Gentle spirits of the night,
bow down your heads and hear my sorry words:
these wooded hills are filled with your compassion
even the trees
weep in silent lamentation.
Strike the bells that yet can sound,
squeeze out one final sigh from the organ pipes.
A master who gave order to their singing
now has fallen silent.
Eyes that filled with feeling,
a belly that rolled with raucous laughter
now still.
Seal it in your memory:
William, Evan, Susan, and Michael
Never forget what might have been:
his muse was choked to death with grief;
Seal it in your memory:
Daniel, Erik, Stephen, and Leslie
Andrew, Ellen, David, and John.
Do not permit your voice to be choked with anger and pain
never allow your heart to be clenched with envy
never allow the mouth of your heart
the mouth of your singing heart
to be clamped
shut
with bitterness.
Rage and beauty bound his heart
He sought a sound to split apart the world,
a song with the strength to tear a hole in sorrow:
through that opening
look, and see beyond the shadows.
Gentle spirits of the night
grant him peace
peace
peace.
Deploration is a work for choir and organ that was written in memory of Bill Albright, my friend, mentor, and colleague.
The piece was inspired by in part by the text of Josquin's Deploration on the Death of Ockeghem written by Jean Molinet--I borrowed both the invocation of the spirits of the wood and the call to his colleagues by name. The piece becomes a call to take heed not just of the gifts Bill had to offer us, but also of the lessons that his life and death might bring home as well.
Our remembrances of Bill include the great sensitivity, beauty, gentleness and humor that he was capable of; they also include the considerable measure of hurt, rage, anger and loss that lived inside of him. This piece is a lament for my own personal loss and for our collective loss of a great master, but it is also a warning not to give in to the darkness that we all have in our hearts, and not to let our demons silence our songs.
DEPLORATION
Gentle spirits of the night,
bow down your heads and hear my sorry words:
these wooded hills are filled with your compassion
even the trees
weep in silent lamentation.
Strike the bells that yet can sound,
squeeze out one final sigh from the organ pipes.
A master who gave order to their singing
now has fallen silent.
Eyes that filled with feeling,
a belly that rolled with raucous laughter
now still.
Seal it in your memory:
William, Evan, Susan, and Michael
Never forget what might have been:
his muse was choked to death with grief;
Seal it in your memory:
Daniel, Erik, Stephen, and Leslie
Andrew, Ellen, David, and John.
Do not permit your voice to be choked with anger and pain
never allow your heart to be clenched with envy
never allow the mouth of your heart
the mouth of your singing heart
to be clamped
shut
with bitterness.
Rage and beauty bound his heart
He sought a sound to split apart the world,
a song with the strength to tear a hole in sorrow:
through that opening
look, and see beyond the shadows.
Gentle spirits of the night
grant him peace
peace
peace.