What’s in a song?

A few weeks ago I had yet another audition – this time for Santa Fe Opera (for some insanely modern opera called “Life is a Dream” by Lewis Spratlan) and I chose to open by singing the following song:

It is the first song titled “Alive and Taking Names” in a cycle called “Miz Inez Sez” by composer David Del Tredici. The poetry is by American poet Colette Inez.  I premiered the cycle with David at the piano a few years ago at Miller Hall in Columbia University, and a while later we recorded them under the CRI label.

I am not really sure that this is a good song with which to open an audition.

To regress even further: my path seems to be so left of center, so specifically different in a way, that, especially for opera auditions, I don’t really know what it is they might be looking for (actually, I’ve never really known…) and so, instead of going to usual traditional aria route I make an artistic choice and sing something that really means something to me. Damned be formality and hence this song.

all right, whatever.

back on track: I feel that with this cycle I began to understand, less intellectually and rather more in an intuitive way, that the choice of poetry is what makes the difference (to me, at least?) between a really superb song and one that aspires to be great but is either ‘posing to hard’ or ‘just can’t quite get there’.

Here is the poem:

“If I set out to list ointments
Would I find myself slick,
ceaselessly involved
in salves, balms, daubs, smears,
referencing spikenard, lotion , pomade,
greasing the wheels, as it were, of my skin?

Best to forego fat, the oleaginous stuff
that lards the heart.

If I set out to list ills, ague, pox, bloody flux,
would I find myself sick,
ceaselessly involved in coup, rot,
referencing bran, drugging the fool
in the ward of my skull?

Best to forego pain, the surgical brain
doesn’t love nouns.

Croaker, monger, medic, quack,
sawbones, prober,  jawsmith, vet,
I am well, sound, hale, cross referenced with fit,
snuffling the morning ari, alive and taking names.”

O000 – K.

Strange poem. Perhaps it speaks volumes to you and immediately connects with your gut; or maybe not at all, or perchance it even gets you visibly annoyed and angry.

Regardless, here is what I feel – it is, OBVIOUSLY, very specifically meaningful to Mr. Del Tredici (Why Obviously? – exactly because it is such an unusual poem and poet, and David OBVIOUSLY went searching).  And I believe that comes through in the music composed to it, which is so enormously evocative, so PERSONAL.

I cannot tell you how many works I’ve sung with what is considered great poetry, and how many times the composition of them disappoints or just falls short of being truly insightful, layered and moving to the core. More and more, I find that it is a rare occurrence to have a composer that is so aware of his inner world that his choices are then very specific and true to that world, and I find that very compelling.

And by the way I find this to be true with Schubert, Wolf and Faure (to give an example) just as much as with a contemporary composer….to name a few contemporary composers with whom I’ve worked, and whose works I’ve found to possess that very rare quality – David Del Tredici, Eric Whitacre, John Corigliano, Jonathan Newman…

This is not to say that these persons might not benefit from, say, going to a therapist. It’s not that they have it all figured out, and furthermore they may even run the most complicated souls on the human gamut!  But my sense is that they are very honest with themselves when it comes to their creative process. And that honesty seems to come through in the connection they find with one poem or another and then with the music that comes to them through that poem. Maybe a lot of amateuristic mumbo jumbo, but that’s how I feel…

Is this a learned quality in a person? can it be taught? can it be honed? I don’t know. I do know that it is uncommon and extraordinary and precious, and that when presented with such a work of art, it gives my spirit the chance to learn something new.