Vlada, a young Ukranian girl, in a shelter in Mariupol, said to a reporter as tears rolled down her face:

“I am afraid. I don't want to die.”

This work is for Vlada.

No text, only vocalised.

While composing an earlier choral work, estava mãe (stabat mater), for one of its sections I chose a text by the author João Pedro Mésseder, an excerpt from the book Clube Mediterrâneo (Club Med). When I finished the composition of that section I realised that the musical material could be expanded into a larger work of its own. That expanded version became the second movement of clube mediterrâneo and I composed a new opening section for the work. Although clube mediterrâneo, has a two movement format, it is to be performed with a break between the movements.

The theme of clube mediterrâneo is the refugies that cross the Mediterranean Ocean in search of a better life, often risking their own lives in overcrowded boats unfit to sail such waters. They are running away from poverty, from violence. They pursue freedom, peace, their dreams, a better life. On their journey they are often exploited by human traffickers on land and sea.

During the dictatorship regime in Portugal, which lasted till 1974, many Portuguese also fled the country and made the voyage across the Mediterranean, in simular boat conditions but in the opposite direction. They too were running away from poverty, from violence. They too were pursuing freedom, peace, their dreams, a better life.

The first movement was commissioned by Municipality of Lousã for the concert MAS O TOQUE that premiered on April 22, 2022 at the Lousã Church by the Nova Era Vocal Ensemble, João Barros director, as part of the program Sons do Sagrado of the Rede Cultural Terras da Chanfana. The second movement was made possible with the support of the Ministry of Culture of Portugal though the program for music creation 2020 by the DGARTES.

(Portuguese, English below)
1)
“anunciação”
Encomenda de Isabel Lagoas e Cristina Alfano em memória de Lúcia Lopes.

Só o ombro do anjo
permite a visão
da luz
o sinal
é na mulher o rosto
anuncia
o cortejo solene do sol
que lhe cresce
no colo
o mistério
a flor do lírio
acesa

Poema: “Anunciação”
José Tolentino Mendonça (“Poesia reunida”, Assírio & Alvim)

2)
“natividade”

O que eu vi,
à nascença, foi o céu.
No rasgão da retina,
a desatada luz: o meu segundo oceano.
Aprendi a ser cego
antes de, em linha e cor,
o mundo se revelar.
O que depois vi,
ainda sem saber que via,
foram as mãos.
Parteiros gestos
me ensinaram quanto,
das mãos,
a vida inteira vamos nascendo.
As mãos foram,
assim, o meu segundo ventre.
Luz e mãos
moldaram a impossível fronteira
entre oceano e ventre.
Luz e mãos
me consolaram
da incurável solidão de ter nascido.

Poema: “Cores de parto”
Mia Couto (“Tradutor de chuvas”, Editorial Caminho)

3)
“adoração”
Encomenda de Adelino Rodrigues e Iris Klinzman

Descemos pelos caminhos de xisto solto,
iluminados entre as sombras do luar.
Vimos.
Aqui e ali, por baixo da urze e tojo rastejavam criaturas, à caça...
Ao fundo, junto à ribeira,
vimos um pequeno clarão,
serviu-nos de guia.
Encontramos na gruta
gente em fuga, pernoitavam ali.
Vimos.
A jovem aquecia o recém nascido nos seus braços,
os outros aqueciam-se ao lume.
Deixamos-lhe broa, queijo, nozes, uma capucha de burel,
e seguimos caminho até ao vale.
O som dos chocalhos voava pela serra.

Poem: “Vimos”
pelo compositor

4)
“fuga para o Egipto”

Cruzam desertos, mares, florestas,
não poucas vezes a vida,
de um lado para o outro, a vida.

Excerto do poema: “Clube Mediterrâneo, doze fotogramas e uma devoração”
João Pedro Mésseder (“Clube Mediterrâneo, doze fotogramas e uma devoração”, Editora dos Tipos Xerefé)

5)
“lamentação”

— oh coração escarpado,
que lhe toquem através do sangue turvo,
nem o amor nem o cego idioma das mães hão-de salvá-lo nunca:
súbito cai o terrífico estio sobre o mundo,
mas só a ele o queimará por entre as searas que amadurecem,
invisíveis, implacáveis,
alta noite
•

Excerto do poema: “Quem fabrica um peixe fabrica duas ondas”
Herberto Helder (“Obra completa”, Porto Editora)

6)
“pietà”

Vejo-te ainda, Mãe, de olhar parado,
Da pedra e da tristeza, no teu canto,
Comigo ao colo, morto e nu, gelado,
Embrulhado nas dobras do teu manto.

Sobre o golpe sem fundo do meu lado
Ia caindo o rio do teu pranto;
E o meu corpo pasmava, amortalhado,
De um rio amargo que adoçava tanto.

Depois, a noite de uma outra vida
Veio descendo lenta, apetecida
Pela terra-polar de que me fiz;

Mas o teu pranto, pela noite além,
Seiva do mundo, ia caindo, Mãe,
Na sepultura fria da raiz.

Poema: “Pietà”
Miguel Torga (“Diário X”, 1966, Coimbra)

7)
“assunção”

(vocalizado, sem texto)

LYRICS IN ENGLISH
Anunciation
Only the angel's shoulder
allows a vision
of the light
the sign
is in the woman
the face announces
the solemn procession of the sun that grows in her
on the lap
the mystery
the flower of the lily lit

Poem: “Anunciação”
José Tolentino Mendonça (in the book: “Poesia reunida”, Assírio & Alvim)

Nativity

What l saw,
at birth, was the sky.
In the retinal tear,
the unleashed light: my second ocean.
I learned to be blind,
before, in line and color,
the world revealed itself.
What I then saw,
before knowing I could see,
were the hands.
Birthing gestures
taught me how much,
from the hands,
our whole life we keep being born.
The hands were,
thus, my second womb.
Light and hands
shaped the impossible border between ocean and womb.
Light and hands
consoled me
of the incurable loneliness of being born.


Poem: “Cores de parto”
Mia Couto (in the book: “Tradutor de chuvas”, Editorial Caminho.)

Adoration

We walked down the loose schist trails,
lit between shadows of moonlight.
We saw.
Here and there, under the heather and gorse,
creatures crawled, on the hunt…
At the bottom, near the stream,
we saw a tiny glare,
it became our guide.
We found in a cave
people on the run, spending the night.
We saw.
The young woman warmed the newborn in her arms,
the others warmed up by the fire.
We left them bread, cheese, walnuts and a wool cape,
and continued down to the valley.
The sound of sheep bells flew around the mountain.

Poem: “Vimos”
Eugénio Rodrigues (unpublished)

Escape from Egypt

They cross deserts, seas, forests
more than a few times,
life.
From one side to the other,
life.

Excerpt from the poem: “Clube Mediterrâneo, doze fotogramas e uma devoração”
João Pedro Mésseder (in the book: “Clube Mediterrâneo, doze fotogramas e uma devoração”, Editora dos Tipos Xerefé)

Lament

oh rugged heart,
• may it be touched through the murky blood,
neither love nor the blind language of mothers will ever save him:
suddenly falls the dreadful summer upon the world,
but only him will it burn between the ripening harvests,
invisible, ruthless, high night

Excerpt from the poem: “Quem fabrica um peixe fabrica duas ondas”
Herberto Helder (in the book: “Obra completa”, Porto Editora.)

Pietà

I can still see you, Mother,
your empty gaze, of stone and sadness, in your corner,
With me in your arms, dead, naked and cold,
Wrapped in the folds of your cloak.

Over the bottomless wound, on my side,
Was running the deep river of your mourning;
my body spasmed, shrouded, by a sour river that sweetened so.

Then, the night from another life
Slowly descended, desired,by the polar-earth that I’d become;

But your weeping, into the night,
Sap of the earth, was falling, Mother, Into the root’s cold grave.

Poem: “Pietà”
Miguel Torga (in the book: “Diário X”, s/editora, 1966, Coimbra.)

Assumption
(vocalized – without text)

Canção da Lousã

Ó minha terra bonita, garrida vila coimbrã,
com tua luz infinita e o teu nome de Lousã,
Lousã, Lousã, Lousã, Lousã.

És noiva do horizonte, toda de branco vestida.
Não há nuvem que te afronte neste ceu da tua vida.
Lousã, Lousã, Lousã, Lousã.

O teu arvoredo murmura em segredo, batendo-lhe o vento!
Tuas raparigas soltam as cantigas a todo o momento!
As águas nas fontes, as aves nos montes, tu do que é vivente,
sorri a quem passa, acolhe a desgraça e vive contente!
Lousã, Lousã, Lousã, Lousã.

Não és forte nem és feia, és pequenina e singela,
como uma casa de aldeia que só tem uma janela!
Lousã, Lousã, Lousã, Lousã.

Embora sejas pequena sabes tão bem cativar
que quem parte leva pena e pensa logo em voltar.
Lousã, Lousã, Lousã, Lousã.

António Victor

Shortly after returning to live in Lousã, Portugal, my hometown, I woke up one night with a melody running in my head that attached itself to the words of the local town song, "Song of Lousã." I got up and jotted down the melody so I wouldn’t forget it. The next day I worked it out. The idea was to update the “Song of Lousã”, using the same lyrics as the original 1940’s version, from a local XX century poet, António Victor, with music by me, from another generation, and in a style for yet another generation. The initial version was for voice, percussion and winds, of which I made this arrangement for a cappella choir and beatbox.

Canção da Lousã

Ó minha terra bonita, garrida vila coimbrã,
com tua luz infinita e o teu nome de Lousã,
Lousã, Lousã, Lousã, Lousã.

És noiva do horizonte, toda de branco vestida.
Não há nuvem que te afronte neste ceu da tua vida.
Lousã, Lousã, Lousã, Lousã.

O teu arvoredo murmura em segredo, batendo-lhe o vento!
Tuas raparigas soltam as cantigas a todo o momento!
As águas nas fontes, as aves nos montes, tu do que é vivente,
sorri a quem passa, acolhe a desgraça e vive contente!
Lousã, Lousã, Lousã, Lousã.

Não és forte nem és feia, és pequenina e singela,
como uma casa de aldeia que só tem uma janela!
Lousã, Lousã, Lousã, Lousã.

Embora sejas pequena sabes tão bem cativar
que quem parte leva pena e pensa logo em voltar.
Lousã, Lousã, Lousã, Lousã.

António Victor

The work mas o toque (but the touch) is a tribute to human kindness and to all those health professionals and volunteers who cared for and care for the sick as well as the healthy, during the Coronavirus pandemic which began in 2020. The work is based on an excerpt from the poem The Human Touch, by the American poet, doctor and surgeon Spencer Michael Free (1856-1938).

The work is written for an eight part a cappella choir and there are two versions, one in Portuguese, the other in English.

Sometimes all it takes is a word, a single note, a chord, an image, a rhythmic or melodic motive, as the starting point for a whole musical work. Other times, the work is born out of a conjugation of multiple factors, ideas and interests. Pietà is of the later kind. It mixes the art of Paula Rego, the poetry of Miguel Torga, and the mountains of Lousã, a small town in central Portugal where I was born and currently live.
The idea for this work began when in 2003 I discovered the pastel drawings by Paula Rego for the Chapel of the Belém Palace, official residence of the Portuguese President, commissioned by the then President, Jorge Sampaio. In those works, Paula Rego depicts moments in the life of Mary of Nazareth, mother of Jesus, in a hiper-natural style with figures from today. At that moment I thought of composing a kind of “stabat mater” in the same spirit as the drawings, each section, in some way representing each of the eight drawings. I began looking for appropriate texts, which took me to the poetry of Miguel Torga. However the project was put to the side and only recently, after returning to Lousã, where there is a sanctuary and cult following of “Our Lady of Piety”, did I complete the work as a tribute to my ancestors who built that sanctuary on a hill of schist stone and deep green moss, hidden in the middle of the mountains.
Pietà, also the title of Miguel Torga's poem, is the first of the eight sections that I completed, the other sections await the conjugation of other factors to join Pietà.

Pietà

Vejo-te ainda, Mãe, de olhar parado,

Da pedra e da tristeza, no teu canto,

Comigo ao colo, morto e nu, gelado,

Embrulhado nas dobras do teu manto.

Sobre o golpe sem fundo do meu lado

Ia caindo o rio do teu pranto;

E o meu corpo pasmava, amortalhado,

De um rio amargo que adoçava tanto.

Depois, a noite de uma outra vida

Veio descendo lenta, apetecida

Pela terra-polar de que me fiz;

Mas o teu pranto, pela noite além,

Seiva do mundo, ia caindo, Mãe,

Na sepultura fria da raiz.

Lisboa, Cadeia do Aljube, Natal de 1939 - Como se fosse ainda em S. Pedro de Roma

Miguel Torga (Do livro: Diário X, s/editora, 1966, Coimbra)

I first came across the text I selected for this work, as an anonimous Latin quote at the beginning of a novel. At the time, it impressed me so much that I jotted it down in one of my notebooks. I forgot the novel but remembered the quote. 

Intrigued by it, I decided to find its author, and the work it had come from. As I typed the first words of the poem in my search engine, it appeared: Catullus 5. The author, Gaius Valerius Catullus, a Latin poet of the late Roman Republic who wrote poetry about personal life rather than classical heroes. 

Catullus 5 is a passionate ode and one of the most famous poems by Catullus. 

Sung in Latin

Excerpt of a love poem by latin poet Catullus (ca. 84–54 BC)

Soles occidere et redire possunt;
nobis, cum semel occidit brevis lux,
nox est perpetua una dormienda.
Da mi basia mille.

English translation:

Suns are able to set and return;
once the brief light sets,
we must sleep one perpetual night.
Give me one thousand kisses.

Mulher

Vejo uma pequena chama, mas muito brilhante, no horizonte dentro do meu coração de vidro coberto de gelo. Vejo uma mulher de cabelo selvagem que ilumina a minha noite, os seus pés beijam a terra com cada passo, o seu vestido transparente é o companheiro dos ventos, ela chama-me com os seus olhos de fogo e com sua voz de madeira curtida pelas ondas e lágrimas. A lua faz brilhar a sua pele, e o seu peito de frutos maduros oferece vida e descanso, protecção e coragem, prazer e inspiração. Suas mãos tocam-me suavemente, atravessam o meu corpo para chegar à minha alma. Quando lá chegam, aromas de flores e de mar salgado intoxicam-me até me fazerem cantar e dançar, cantar e amar.

Woman

I see a small flame, but very bright, in the horizon inside my heart of ice covered glass. I see a woman with wild hair that lights my night, her feet kiss the earth at each step, her transparent dress is company to the winds, she calls me with her fiery eyes and her wooden voice cured by the waves and the tears. The moon shines on her skin, her breasts made of ripe fruits offer life and rest, protection and courage, pleasure and inspiration. Her hands touch me softly, they penetrate my body to reach my soul. When they arrive, the aroma of flowers and the salty sea intoxicate me and make me sing and dance, sing and love.

(translation to english by the composer)

(Unpublished. With permission from the author to reprint and set to music.)

Introduction
Imagine you are walking in a garden and you find a fairy singing, a dancer amongst the trees, animals hiding behind the bushes and a poet writing in his tower. The audience are spread throughout the garden watching and following the action. They can hear the singing and music through wireless headphones. The musicians are in an enclosed space nearby, not visible to the audience until the end. 

The opera Oriana was conceived to be presented on stage (concert hall or theater) or outdoors (in a park, a botanical garden, or a forest) with the help of some technology. This performance concept has been used in other opera presentations and it allows opera to be presented outdoors with acoustic quality, to the point that one can hear a whisper from a singer in the distance. 

The libretto was extracted from the children's tale The Fairy Oriana, by Portuguese author Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen (1919-2004), which serves as the basis for the outdoor performance possibility, mirroring the atmosphere where the story takes place. 

Oriana has a duration of 47 minutes, with an optional break, and was composed in the spirit of Maurice Ravel's, L'enfant e les surtilèges, aiming to be an opera for all ages. 

Singers:
Oriana - soprano (soubrette)
Queen of the Good Fairies/and of Bad Fairies - mezzo soprano
Fish/Spider - tenor
Poet - baritone
Narrators - treble voices (minimum 3)
Old Lady/Snake - contralto

Choreographer/Dancer (minimum 1)


Musicians:
a) piano
b) chamber ensamble