Sung in Spanish

Text by Pablo Neruda, from the book Canto General, Capitulo XV, poem XVIII “El vino”

Vino de primavera… Vino de otoño, dadme
mis compañeros, una mesa en que caigan
hojas equinocciales, y el gran río del mundo
que palidezca un poco moviendo su sonido
lejos de nuestros cantos. Soy buen compañero.

No entraste en esta casa para que te arrancara
un pedazo de ser. Tal vez cuando te vayas
te lleves algo mío, castañas, rosas o
una seguridad de raíces o naves
que quise compartir contigo, compañero.

Canta conmigo hasta que las copas
se derramen dejando púrpura desprendida
sobre la mesa. Esa miel viene a tu boca
desde la terra, desde sus oscuros racimos.

Cuántos me faltan, sombras del canto, compañeros
que amé dando la frente, sacando de mi vida
la incomparable ciencia varonil que profeso,
la amistad, arboleda de rugosa ternura.

Dame la mano, encuéntrate conmigo,
simple, no busques nada en mis palabras
sino la emanación de una planta desnuda.

Por qué me pides más que a un obrero? Ya sabes
que a golpes fui forjando mi enterrada herrería,
y que no queiro hablar sino como es mi lengua.
Sal a buscar doctores si no te gusta el viento.

Nosotros cantaremos con el vino fragoso
de la tierra: golpearemos las copas del otoño,
y la guitarra o el silencio irán trayendo
líneas de amor, lenguaje de ríos que no existen,
estrofas adoradas que no tienen sentido.

“Escape velocity” is the speed at which a body – a spacecraft, for instance – overcomes the gravitational pull of another body, such as the Earth. 

On a pier two musicians accompany Penelope in her farewell to Ulysses, as she begins to prepare her yarn.

Sung in Portuguese
Excerpt from the poem Ithaca by the greek poet Konstantinos Kavafis (1863-1933) translated to Portuguese by Jorge de Sena

Quando partires de regresso a Ítaca,
deves orar por uma viagem longa,
plena de aventuras e de experiências.
Ciclopes, Lestregónios, e mais monstros,
um Poseidon irado – não os temas,
jamais encontrarás tais coisas no caminho,
se o teu pensar for puro, e se um sentir sublime
teu corpo toca e o espírito te habita.
Ciclopes, Lestregónios, e outros monstros,
Poseidon em fúria – nunca encontrarás,
se não é na tua alma que os transportes,
ou ela os não erguer perante ti.

Deves orar por uma viagem longa.
Que sejam muitas as manhãs de Verão,
quando, com que prazer, com que deleite,
entrares em portos jamais antes vistos!

Em colónias fenícias deverás deter-te
para comprar mercadorias raras:
coral e madrepérola, âmbar e marfim,
e perfumes subtis de toda a espécie:
compra desses perfumes quanto possas.
E vai ver as cidades do Egipto,
para aprenderes com os que sabem muito.
Terás sempre Ítaca no teu espírito,
que lá chegar é o teu destino último.
Mas não te apresses nunca na viagem.
É melhor que ela dure muitos anos,
que sejas velho já ao ancorar na ilha,
rico do que foi teu pelo caminho,
e sem esperar que Ítaca te dê riquezas.

Ítaca deu-te essa viagem esplêndida.
...

(English translation)

When you set out for Ithaka
ask that your way be long,
full of adventure, full of instruction.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - do not fear them:
such as these you will never find
as long as your thought is lofty, as long as a rare
emotion touch your spirit and your body.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - you will not meet them
unless you carry them in your soul,
unless your soul raise them up before you.
Ask that your way be long.
At many a Summer dawn to enter
with what gratitude, what joy -
ports seen for the first time;
to stop at Phoenician trading centers,
and to buy good merchandise,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensuous perfumes of every kind,
sensuous perfumes as lavishly as you can;
to visit many Egyptian cities,
to gather stores of knowledge from the learned.
Have Ithaka always in your mind.
Your arrival there is what you are destined for.
But don't in the least hurry the journey.
Better it last for years,
so that when you reach the island you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to give you wealth.
Ithaka gave you a splendid journey.

...

English translation by unknown

mezzo-soprano Alexandra Montano
alto sax José Massarrão
cello Miguel Ivo Cruz
accordion Pedro Miguel
piano Afonso Malão

Tormenta e Harmonia is subtitled “overture, dances and aria” and was written for the choreographer Hillel Kogan

Sung in Portuguese
Poem by Alexandra Montano

Eu sou

Eu sou mulher e sou divina
Sou criatura de sonho e poesia
Quando as minhas coxas se movem
A terra inteira estremece.
Eu sou laranja do Sol
E turquesa da água
De pernas fortes para bailar
Para carregar minhas filhas por onde seja.
Sou para ti noite fresca
E sou dona das estrelas
Sou para ti tua égua selvagem
E sou rainha de todas as brisas.
Eu sou mulher e sou divina
Sou criatura de calor e terra
Sou criatura de sonho e poesia
Sou criatura de amor e vida.
Eu sou mulher e sou divina
Sou criatura de tormenta e harmonia.

(English translation)
I am

I am a woman and I am divine
I am a creature of dream and poetry
When my hips move
The whole earth trembles.
I am orange from the sun
And turquoise from the water
With strong legs for dancing
And to carry my daughters wherever.
I am for you your cool evening
I am ruler of the stars
I am for you your wild mare
I am the queen of all breezes.
I am a woman and I am divine
I am a creature of heat and hearth
I am a creature of dream and poetry
I am a creature of love and life.
I am a woman and I am divine
I am a creature of torment and harmony.

A fascinating and skillful musical mix where various references are crossed (baroque dances, traditional Portuguese music, fado, jazz...) in a subtle and humorous manner. The last section, where the wonderful voice of Alexandra Montano introduces a dream like atmosphere, appears displaced in relation to the character of the previous sections, but, musically, it is a beautiful moment...

Público - Lisbon, May 2, 1999

Live performance at Expo 98, Lisbon, Portugal

mezzo-soprano Alexandra Montano
alto sax Rui Gabriel
percussion Elizabeth Davis
piano Afonso Malão
cello Miguel Ivo Cruz
bass Luís Sousa

Oda al Mar is a group of five songs, with instrumental interludes, based on texts by Pablo Neruda (Odes to the earth, air, fire and sea). It was written for the Fred Darsow Dance Company.

Oda al la tierra (excerpt)

Arida Tierra, mano
sin signos en la palma,
a ti te canto,
aquí no diste trinos
ni te nutrió la rosa
...
a ti te canto
porque el hombre
te hará parir, te llenará de frutos,
...
estrella negra,
a ti te canto.
...
Tierra, me gustas
en la arcilla y la arena,
te levanto y te formo,
como tú me formaste,
y ruedas de mis dedos
voy a volver a tu matriz extensa.
Tierra, de pronto
me parece tocarte
en todos tus contornos
de medalla porosa,
...
y en tu forma paseo
mis manos
hallando la cadera de la que amo,
los pequeñitos senos,
el viento como un grano
de suave y tibia avena
y a ti me abrazo, Tierra,
...
(el agua brota,
el fuego hierve,
el viento lleva)
...
y a ti me abrazo, Tierra,
la tierra entierra rosas.
Tierra de los desiertos,
línea pura,
A ti las escrituras de mi canto
porque pareces muerta
y te despierta
el ramagazo de la dinamita,
y en un penacho de humo sangriento
anuncia el parto
y saltan los metales hacia el cielo.
A ti me abrazo,
Tierra,
...
(el agua busca,
el fuego canta,
el viento lleva,)
...
A ti me abrazo,
Tierra,
junto a ti, duermo,
en tu cintura se atan mis brazos y mis labios,
duermo contigo y siembro mis más profundos besos.

Oda al aire (excerpt)
Andando en un camino 
encontré al aire, 
lo saludé y le dije 
con respeto: 
“Me alegro 
de que por una vez 
dejes tu transparencia, 
así hablaremos”. 

Él incansable, 
bailó.
...
Yo le besé su capa 
de rey del cielo,
...
y le dije: 
monarca o camarada, 
hilo, corola o ave, 
no sé quien eres,
pero 
una cosa te pido, 
no te vendas. 

...
Él incansable, 
bailó.
movió las hojas.
...
No, aire, 
no te vendas, 
que no te canalicen, 

que no te entuben, que no te encajen,
...que no te metan en una botella, 
cuidado!
llámame 
cuando me necesites, 
yo soy el poeta hijo 
de pobres,
...hermano de todos.

Oda al fuego (excerpt)
Descabellado fuego,
Enérgico,
Ciego y lleno de ojos,
Deslenguado,
Tardío, repentino,

Estrella de oro,
Ladrón de leña,
Callado bandolero,
Cocedor de cebollas,
Célebre pícaro de las chispitas,
Perro rabioso de un millón de dientes,
Óyeme,
Centro de los hogares,
Rosal incorruptible,
Destructor de las vidas,
Celeste padre del pan y del horno,
Progenitor ilustre
De ruedas y herraduras,
Polen de los metales,
Fundador del acero,
Óyeme fuego.
Arde tu nombre,
Da gusto
Decir fuego,
Es mejor
Que decir piedra
O harina.
Las palabras son muertas
Junto a tu rayo amarillo,
Junto a tu cola roja,
Junto a tus crines de luz amaranto,
Son frías las palabras.
Se dice fuego,
Fuego, fuego, fuego,
Y se enciende
Algo en la boca:
Es tu fruta que quema,
Es tu laurel que arde.

Oda al mar (excerpt)
Aquí en la isla
el mar, el mar,
y cuánto mar
se sale de sí mismo
a cada rato,
dice que sí, dice que sí,
que no, que no, que no, que no,
dice que si, en azul,
en espuma, en galope,
dice que sí, que no.
No puede estarse quieto,
me llamo mar, repite
me llamo mar, mar,
pegando en una piedra
sin lograr convencerla,
pegando en una piedra
sin lograr convencerla,
sin lograr convencerla,
entonces
con siete lenguas verdes
de siete perros verdes,
de siete tigres verdes,
con siete lenguas verdes,
de siete tigres verdes,
con siete lenguas verdes,
de siete mares verdes,
la recorre, la besa,
la humedece
y se golpea el pecho
repitiendo su nombre.

Quatro Elementos (excerpt from Oda al la fertilidad de la tierra)
La tierra entierra rosas
el viento lleva
el fuego hierve y canta
el agua brota y busca

Oda al Mar can be heard as a cantata for mezzo-soprano and instrumental group, combining stravinskian influences with aspects of the minimalist idiom, marked by it’s rhythmic liveliness and a discourse which mixes the classical-popular coordinates, creating a stimulating no man’s land. In this well crafted work, there are real finds in the instrumental writing and the discourse is at times irresistible.

Público - Lisbon, September 2, 1998

Live performance at the Kitchen in New York City

mezzo-soprano Alexandra Montano
violin Marka Gustavsson
accordion Anne DeMarinis
piano Margaret Kampmeier
bass Richard Sosinsky

 Written for the Fred Darsow Dance Company

Texts by Satu Hummasti

Hours like veils
Why did I linger and fall, wearing the hours like veils?
I've longingly curved for your hand bearing the hours like veils.
I've waited.
I let you come up to me late in the night when love held your eyes, bright as stones.
I fell when I reached for you faded in dark when love fled your eyes cold as stones,
but I'll eat those stones before I cry, I'll eat those stones alone.

I see her waiting every night as the grocer pulls his fruits inside,
she's staring down the street,
I see her waiting every night,
in the pressure of the hours she sits there staring down the street as he brings another flowers.
But she'll eat those stones before she cries, she'll eat those stones alone.

I left when the first light quietly fell finding the street by dawn,
I'll go through the corridor in the dark, and find the street by dawn.
I dreamt of a body carried on my back, the body was my own, I flung it from my skin.
I dreamt of a ship easing into sand tall and full of flight urging me to go, urging me.
I threw my body from my back, I threw me on the deck and left.

In the mirror in the hall I saw the place I left I saw the place I'll always leave fading in the glass.
In the mirror in the hall a stranger urges me to leave and love and always leave to fade into the glass.
I see you in a pool of light fading in the glass.

Flicked in the night by a wind my dress falls and falling does not find you.
In the wind I rise and falling do not find you.
Night held me close like a ghost holds skin I fold into the night.
How will I ever sleep again?
I remember your hand on my waist I fold into the night.
When will I ever sleep again?
Some devil keeps me wide awake waiting for the sun.

I slept and had a dream so sweet a body in a field of wheat.
I wake into the dark alone, gentle in this place and seized, quiet in this place and seized. Some devil keeps me wide awake waiting for the sun.

If I had never seen despair, I would not know you, but you are not a stranger, I feel your skin.

In the mirror in the hall I saw the place I left I saw the place I'll always leave fading in the glass.
In the mirror in the hall a stranger urges me to leave and love and always leave to fade into the glass. I see you in a pool of light fading in the glass.

I've known

I've known, I've known the dead stop night, the humid air, your body next to mine.
I've known the sweet of summer vine curving through the air.
I've heard the perfume running down the street.
The smoke I've seen build up between the walls, the suffocating fire searing through the hall.
I've known, I've known the dead stop night, waiting at each ticking of the clock, no body next to mine.

Broad Axe was written for the New Jersey Percussion Quartet.

violin Hsiao-mei Ku
cello Fred Raimi
piano Jane Hawkins 

When I was introduced to Claude Monet's cycle of large water lily paintings, les nymphéas, I had the idea of writing a series of works "based" on the structures of some of those paintings. This work is the first in that series and relates to a specific triptych completed by Monet in 1923.

ARDITTI QUARTET

violins Irvine Arditti, Graeme Jennings
viola Dov Scheindlin
cello Rohan de Saram 

The initial idea for this work originated out of my fascination with the persona Mata Hari and my interest in dance.  Combining the two, I decided to write a sort of "erotic" dance as  I imagined Mata Hari might have performed.  Mata Hari,  whose real name was Margaretha Geertruida Zelle, was executed on October 15, 1917 by the French military accused of spying for the Germans.  She gained fame, throughout  Europe, for her erotic dances as well as for her numerous affairs with French, Dutch and German government officials and secret service agents.  The persona, Mata Hari, defined the myth of the secret agent and brought the profession to its highest regard in this century. In 1932, French authorities recognized that no tangible evidence had been found against her.

… with the strongest impact was Eugénio Rodrigues' 'Mata Hari' for string quartet… It opened simply, with a long series of harmonized drones like a bagpipe, then grew in complexity–notably in its intricate, powerful dance rhythms–to represent the character of the World War I spy and femme fatale.

The Washington Post - Washington, DC December 17, 1994

Seattle Performance Group

Three poems of the sea by George Sarandáris (1907-41)

Prelude
We are always reading the waves.
And time takes us
And leaves us on other seas
And brings us to other seas.
The dance within the dance
Everyone becomes a child.
I
O dove of the soul may you fare well
Go now with the etesian wind
And kiss for me whatever pearls you meet
If you cannot see me do not fear I shall keep holiday with you
On our voyage we shall raise the waters from the sea
To bless whatever we have loved
And whatever we no longer forget
The dove moored in the garden
My soul moored in then garden
Well. I remember now the summer of my life
As though you were earth's only springtime
I confront you o day of my birth
II
The lucky sea waves to us
As though the birds above it were guiding it
As though they were taking it into their arms
The ether is a straight road
Everyone walks within his shadow
Or within his sleep
Whoever takes the sea into his arms
Seems not to suffer from weight
Seems not ashamed of going with the wind
Seems as though he holds all the earth in his glance
As though he sings in the night
And behold night becomes a mother to him
That he may sing in the sun
And love a woman
Who seems an infant to him
That he may sing in the wind
And thus keep on losing and winning his voice
III
The sea shatters into numberless crystals
We scoop them up and mounted on air go voyaging
We scatter them wherever we see women lamenting
As though deprived of their children
Then the seas are created again
And an unsurpassable innocence discerns them
Then men fly higher in the sky
To take in all they can of light from far away
While women dressed in black eternally narrate
The birth of the seas

Three poems of the sea was translated from the Greek by Kimon Friar, "Modern Greek Poetry", Simon and Schuster, 1973, New York.

Three poems of the sea’ by Eugénio Rodrigues,…revealed a young man who can infuse rapturous, unabashedly post-romantic music with something all his own.
… luminous, hot and heavy, minimal, wide-rangingly linear – and the audience registered its hearty approval.

News-Times – Danbury, CT October 16,1989