MUSIC FOR NEW BODIES

MUSIC FOR NEW BODIES

Music by Matthew Aucoin*
Text based on poems by Jorie Graham, assembled by Matthew Aucoin and Peter Sellars
Stage Direction by Peter Sellars 

 

Lighting Design Ben Zamora
Assistant Director Yibin Wang
Production Stage Manager Betsy Ayer
Costume Stylist Victoria Bek

High Soprano Song Hee Lee
Soprano Lauren Randolph
Mezzo Megan Moore
Tenor Daniel McGrew
Bass-Baritone Will Socolof

Sandbox Percussion Jonny Allen*, Victor Caccese, Terry Sweeney

Percussion Cover Jeffrey Stern

Flute Emi Ferguson* and Hunter O’Brien
Clarinet Yasmina Spiegelberg
Oboe Joe Jordan
Bassoon Kara LaMoure
Violin Miranda Cuckson* and Rachel Lee Priday
Viola Carrie Frey
Cello Iva Casian-Lakos and Jesse Christeson
Bass Maggie Cox
Harp Jacqueline Kerrod
Piano Baron Fenwick
Keyboard Ning Yu

Conductor Matthew Aucoin

* AMOC* Company Member

 

The American Modern Opera Company’s appearance, including Music for New Bodies, is generously supported by Katie and Paul Buttenwieser.

 

Music for New Bodies is a co-commission of American Modern Opera Company (AMOC*), DACAMERA, Los Angeles Opera, the Shepherd School of Music at Rice University, and the Aspen Music Festival and School. Foundational residency support for the development of Music for New Bodies was provided by Brown Arts Institute at Brown University.

By arrangement with Associated Music Publishers, Inc., publisher and copyright owner.
 

 

Special thanks to Avery Willis Hoffman, Jessica Wasilewski, Joshua Bristow, Ian Driver, Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts, and THE OFFICE performing arts + film.

 

AMOC*
Artistic Director Zack Winokur
Co-Founder Matthew Aucoin
Director of Investment Strategy Courtney Beck
Operations Manager Shelby Blezinger-McCay
Company Manager Ryan Gedrich
Senior Advisor Jennifer Chen

Premiered December 2018 at The Met Cloisters, Fuentidueña Apse, New York, NY

Production photos by Nina Westervelt



Program note by Matthew Aucoin

To be alive today is to be overwhelmed. We are overwhelmed every day by the gap between what we know and what we’re capable of feeling. We know too much: we know that the planet is warming and frequently afire; we know that millions of people around the world are suffering as a result of unnecessary wars and preventable famines—but how can we let ourselves feel everything we know without simply giving in to despair?

The poetry of Jorie Graham is singularly capable of gathering together these irreconcilable scales of existence: the global and the personal, the cosmic and the mundane. In Graham’s recent poems, a depiction of the ravages of chemotherapy can transform in an instant into an image of the destruction that human beings have unleashed on the ocean floor through decades of pollution. And as technological advances have made it possible for us to live life almost entirely in virtual spaces, Graham has insistently asked the question of what it is about physical, embodied life that’s worth defending.

One of music’s great gifts is simultaneity: multiple contradictory experiences can be gathered together, in a piece of music, into something coherent and even beautiful. Music is also capable of making the unbearable bearable—and not only bearable, but joyous. Graham’s poetry, with its utopian syntheses of every imaginable kind of earthly experience, struck me as irresistible material for an equally utopian musical work.

The result is Music for New Bodies, a piece that might be called a vocal symphony, or an opera with only the ghost of a narrative. It’s a 70-minute work for five singers, an instrumental ensemble of eighteen players, and electronics.

This is a polyvocal piece, in every sense of the word: the five singers sing in many voices, not all of them human. There is a central “speaker,” or protagonist: a person who has just received an aggressive medical diagnosis. At different moments in the piece, all five singers portray that central speaker; sometimes all five of them portray her at once. But that speaker’s consciousness is frequently invaded by other voices: the voices of the medicines flowing through her veins; the voices of surgeons and other medical personnel; the untrustworthy voices of chatbots and AI-generated presences; and, at the other end of the spectrum, voices from deep within the planet—the voice of the earth’s core, the voice of the Mariana Trench.

Throughout the piece’s composition, as I assembled the text, I regularly called my beloved collaborator and friend Peter Sellars, who directed this staging of the piece and who had invaluable ideas along the way about the piece’s libretto. Peter has also been present for every workshop and every concert performance of the piece so far, and his presence has added an incomparable intensity to the very fabric of the piece.

The sound engineer Kyle Joseph and I worked together to create the electronic elements, and Kyle was a crucial partner in bringing that aspect of this composition to life.

And finally, I am so grateful that I’m able to perform this piece with an ensemble of friends, the brilliant and fearless artists who make up AMOC* (American Modern Opera Company).


Music for New Bodies: Synopsis/Guide

1. Cryo

Music for New Bodies begins in a moment of crisis, of spiritual freefall. The first movement, “Cryo,” features a speaker reckoning with one of those dubious, provisional immortalities—such as cryonics—that are now available to those with the money and the desire. This movement seems to take place in the immediate aftermath of a dreaded diagnosis: “The bad news became apparent too late.” The passage of time, the way one has been living one’s life day to day—all these things suddenly seem to have lost their meaning.

And though the speaker is unnerved by the idea of preserving one’s body in the hope of future resurrection, she can’t help but reflect on what it means for human beings that such a step can now be considered. She is on the verge of embarking on “a long stilling voyage,” a journey whose destination is unknowable. “I have no idea what is retained,” the singers intone. “What is here is certainly not there.”

The music of this movement jumps unpredictably between different material: the speaker is in a state of dissociation; she is unable to confront the full implications of the step she’s about to take. Speech emerges in fragments. The mood toggles between frozenness, panic, a kind of wild lashing-out, and moments of painful clarity. At times, the five singers speak in a desperate, blurted unison; at other times, their lines fracture and scatter.

Near the end of the movement, something mysterious happens: the speaker’s words fuse with those of the medieval mystic Julian of Norwich, whose scaldingly powerful vision of Jesus on the cross are overlaid with the speaker’s contemporary attempt to attain a very different form of life after death.

2. I [know myself]

The second movement, “I [know myself],” is a brief, frightening snapshot of another destabilizing experience: the speaker looks in the mirror and does not recognize what she sees there. This movement is a fierce attempt to remain grounded, to locate oneself, even as the speaker stares and stares and feels less and less sure of her own bodily existence. The music features a quiet yet implacable pulse, a kind of heartbeat of oblivion, out of which erratic, almost fast-forwarded instrumental figures emerge.

3. Deep Water Trawling

This movement departs from the human world, visiting the most distant and unknowable realm on our planet: the very bottom of the ocean.

In the first part of the movement, the five singers embody some deep-sea presence—maybe they’re deep-water fish, or maybe they’re the voice of the sea floor itself—speaking up to humanity, telling us about the unimaginable violence we’ve unleashed through pollution and ghostfishing. An electronic pulse, like a ship’s rotating propeller, dominates the texture. The messages that these deep-sea beings have for us aren’t exactly encouraging: “there is nothing in particular you want—you just want,” they say. That phrase, “you just want,” builds and builds, like a burgeoning pile of toxic waste, to a pulverizing musical climax.

The second half of the movement, which begins with the line “Ask us anything,” is a dialogue between an oracular deep-sea presence (portrayed by the mezzo-soprano) and a group of human “questioners” (the other four singers). This spirit of the deep is a kind of modern-day Erda, and like Erda, she has frightening truths to tell us.

4. Prying / Dis-

The bottom of the ocean, with its dim light, transforms into an operating room in a hospital. The speaker is about to undergo an intense operation, one that may save her, but from which she might not return alive. The movement begins with the ambient sounds of a hospital’s daily routine—”anesthesiologists back from coffee break”—and the inexorable preparatory steps before the operation begins: “the guidewires in, the intravenous ports, the drip begun.”

The speaker reflects on the fact that she will soon be literally opened up and examined: “They will learn everything about me while I sleep.” In these moments of preparation, she experiences violent, shuddering shifts in emotion: she lashes out, she wonders whether this is worth even trying—and finally she accedes, relaxes, and gives herself over to the journey that awaits her. The music of her encounter with “the machine reading me out” is unexpectedly lush, ecstatic, even erotic.

As the drugs have their effect and she descends “down through this operating theater’s novocaine-green gleam,” we enter a hallucinatory, almost psychedelic realm: the singers seem to give voice to the drugs themselves as they pass through her veins. The music takes on a strange, synthetic sweetness, like an aural manifestation of the seductive, not entirely human voice of a medical corporation.

After the operation, there is a blackout, a desolate instrumental section, devoid of life. And yet the patient has survived. She slowly wakes up, hears the world outside, and steps out of the hospital into the sunlight: “and you get a little extra life to live…can you still live it.”

5. Poem

It’s only after having undergone this long journey, from the chaos of the first two movements through the terrifying messages of “Deep Water Trawling” and the transformative surgery of “Prying / Dis-“, that the speaker is capable of hearing a different voice: a voice from the earth’s core, a calm, potent voice with a message for us. “The earth said / remember me,” the movement begins.

Having begun in an all-too-human state of panic and dissociation, Music for New Bodies ends in a state of more-than-human serenity. The planetary voices in this piece generally have bad news for the human species, but this earth-voice has something else to tell us. Sure, it says, everything won’t be OK for you. But there’s also something bigger than you—the planet itself, and whatever nameless forces brought the planet into being—and those forces will outlast you. In this final movement, the five singers and the full ensemble give voice to the rumbling, radiant presence of those more-than-human forces, which vibrate with a fierce, unquenchable joy.

–Matthew Aucoin

Company

BARON FENWICK

BARON FENWICK

BEN ZAMORA

BEN ZAMORA

BETSY AYER

BETSY AYER

CARRIE FREY

CARRIE FREY

DANIEL MCGREW

DANIEL MCGREW

EMI FERGUSON

EMI FERGUSON

HUNTER O’BRIEN

HUNTER O’BRIEN

IVA CASIAN-LAKOS

IVA CASIAN-LAKOS

Jacqueline Kerrod website shoot

JACQUELINE KERROD

JEFFREY STERN

JEFFREY STERN

JESSE CHRISTESON

JESSE CHRISTESON

JOSEPH JORDAN

JOSEPH JORDAN

KARA LAMOURE

KARA LAMOURE

LAUREN RANDOLPH

LAUREN RANDOLPH

MATTHEW AUCOIN

MATTHEW AUCOIN

MEGAN MOORE

MEGAN MOORE

MIRANDA CUCKSON

MIRANDA CUCKSON

PETER SELLARS

PETER SELLARS

RACHEL LEE PRIDAY

RACHEL LEE PRIDAY

SANDBOX PERCUSSION

SANDBOX PERCUSSION

SONG HEE LEE

SONG HEE LEE

VICTORIA BEK

VICTORIA BEK

WILLIAM SOCOLOF

WILLIAM SOCOLOF

YASMINA SPIEGELBERG

YASMINA SPIEGELBERG

YIBIN WANG

YIBIN WANG

Reference Guide

A novelist, short-story writer, poet, essayist, and diplomat who was probably the most important Mexican woman writer of the 20th century. She was deeply compelled by the writings of Spanish 16th Century religious activist and author Saint Teresa of Avila and Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz. Learn more.

Written in 1950, this was an early collection of poems by Castellanos

A 2nd Century apocryphal text not appearing in the King James Bible or modern Reina Valera Bible, the Protevangelical Gospel of St. James tells the story of the birth, childhood, and early adolescence of Mary, mother of Jesus. The text featured in El Niño is drawn from Chapter 17. Read the full text here.

The primary English translation of the Old and New Testaments in current use. It was made in 1604—by a commission brought together by King James—in response to issues with earlier English language translations developed in the prior century.

Initially translated by former Catholic Monk Casiodoro de Reina in 1569 and revised by his student Cipriano de Valera in 1602, the Reina Valera Bible is the common Spanish-language translation of the bible used by Spanish-speaking protestants.

Living in Mexico in the 17th century, Sor Juana was a poet, dramatist, scholar, and nun, an outstanding writer of the Latin American colonial period and of the Hispanic Baroque. Learn more.

The Nicaraguan poet— who lived from 1867-1916 —is credited with initiating the Spanish-language literary movement of “modernismo” in the late 19th century. Learn more.

On October 2, 1968 in the Tlatelolco section of Mexico City, the Mexican Armed Forces opened fire on a group of unarmed civilians in the Plaza de las Tres Culturas who were protesting the upcoming 1968 Summer Olympics. 300 people —most of them students—were killed. Learn more.

Aztec goddess who represented sexual impurity and sinful behavior. Learn more.

The Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew (Ps. -Mt.) is one of the most important witnesses in the Latin West to apocryphal stories about the lives of Mary, Joseph, Jesus, and Mary’s parents, Anna and Joachim. Learn more.

A collection of Rosario Castellanos poems, El rescate del mundo (The Ransom of the World), was published in 1952; these are short, spare poems that provide rare descriptive tributes to indigenous women and their work. Learn More.

“…elevated an already-revisionist work into something much more powerful”

Upcoming tour performances: 

December 21, 2023 at Cathedral of St. John the Divine, New York, NY. Learn More

Gallery*

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