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 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.