THE COMET/POPPEA

The Comet / Poppea

New York Premiere

 

June 18, 19, 20 at 8:30 pm

June 20 & 21 at 3:00 pm

 

David H. Koch Theater

90 minutes, no intermission

Performed in English and Italian with English supertitles

 

Concept and Direction Yuval Sharon

The Comet Composer George Lewis

The Comet Libretto Douglas Kearney (based on a short story by W.E.B. Du Bois)

L’incoronazione di Poppea Composer Claudio Monteverdi

L’incoronazione di Poppea Libretto Giovanni Francesco Busenello

Music Director Marc Lowenstein

Scenic Design Mimi Lien

Lighting Design John Torres

Costume Design Oana Botez

Sound Design Mark Grey

Dramaturgy Robert Gooding-Williams and Wendy Heller

 

Ottone / Virtue Amanda Lynn Bottoms 

Poppea Kearstin Piper Brown

Nero / Julia’s father Anthony Roth Costanzo*

Julia Kiera Duffy

Seneca Evan Hughes 

Love / Nellie Joelle Lamarre

Ottavia / “Friend” / Fortune Whitney Morrison

Jim / Mercury Davóne Tines*

 

Percussion Jonny Allen*

Double Bass Doug Balliett*

Viola Miranda Cuckson*

C Flute, Piccolo, Bass Flute Emi Ferguson*

Harpsichord Elliot Figg

Violin Keir GoGwilt*

Cello Coleman Itzkoff*

Theorbo Paul Holmes Morton

Piano Richard Valitutto 

Baroque Cello Adam Young

* AMOC* Company Member

 

The Comet, composed by George Lewis with Libretto by Douglas Kearney, was commissioned by AMOC* and premiered at MOCA Geffen in June 2024. Published by C.F. Peters Corporation. 

Produced by Anthony Roth Costanzo and Cath Brittan, AMOC* (American Modern Opera Company), The Industry, Curtis Institute of Music, Yale Schwarzman Center, and Michigan Central Art. The AMOC* and Lincoln Center presentation of The Comet / Poppea is produced in collaboration with THE OFFICE performing arts + film.

The Comet / Poppea is made possible with generous support from Lead Sponsor Ellen Michelson. Additional major support for The Comet / Poppea is provided by Founding Sponsors: Carol Stein, Diamonstein-Spielvogel Foundation, Jeff Goodby, and T. June & Simon K.C. Li Charitable Fund.

Major support to develop the Run AMOC* Festival is provided by C. Graham Berwind, III, Stephen A. Novick, and Bruce and Suzie Kovner. Support to develop the Festival is provided by Paul Buttenwieser, Pat and Bill O’Connor, Jane Toll, and Robert Turner. Additional support to develop the Festival is provided by Barbara Glauber, Helen Little, Sarah Billinghurst Solomon, and Susan and David Young.

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

Production photos by Nina Westervelt

On L’incoronazione di Poppea

By Wendy Heller

 

E pur io torno qui, qual al linea al centro

qual foco a sfere e qual ruscello al mare 

 

And I still return like a line to the center

Like fire to the sun and stream to the sea

 

– Ottone, Act I, 1 L’incoronazione di Poppea

 

Like Ottone, drawn to the palace of his beloved Poppea, I, too, have been drawn to Claudio Monteverdi’s final opera “like a line to its center”—or a comet heading relentlessly toward earth. An artifact of the carnivalesque, libertine culture of mid–17th-century Venice, Poppea is an opera in which the murderous habits and perversions of the Julio-Claudians are draped in Monteverdi’s most erotic music, as if the elder composer wanted to show what might happen if words truly became the mistress of the music. And if the opera turns Roman history somewhat on its head, ending with the passionate love duet between Nerone and Poppea—who celebrate the deaths of the virtuous Seneca and Octavia—why should we care? After all, history tells us that within two years Nerone will murder Poppea (a kick while pregnant).  Librettist Giovanni Francesco Busenello summed it up nicely in his argomento: “All this according to Cornelius Tacitus, but here we represent things differently.” 

Here we represent things differently. Indeed. Surprisingly, the mesh of a W. E. B. Du Bois’s chilling science-fiction tale that reveals racism in 20th-century America with an exposé of corruption in Imperial Rome echoes something of the Venetian delight in weaving together multiple tales in a single opera. Here, too, the juxtaposition and layering of one opera on top of another illuminates unexpected commonalities of plot (both are cautionary tales about loss, triumph, and the crushing inevitability of history) and of music (George Lewis’s powerful score brilliantly responds to, punctuates, disrupts, and magnifies Monteverdi’s subversive expressiveness, capturing the horror, romance, and despair of Douglas Kearney’s searing libretto). The lament of the abandoned Octavia, the “disprezzata regina,” gains even more pathos when heard adjacent to Jim’s cry, “I have lost everything”; the excessive eroticism of Poppea and Nerone’s duets can be heard as unspoken desire between Jim and Julie. Merging the traumas of the ancient and modern world, The Comet / Poppea demolishes the boundary between presentism and our obsession with authenticity, providing a novel path forward for this troublesome, beloved genre.

On The Comet

 

Robert Gooding-William

“The Comet” is the tenth chapter of Du Bois’s Darkwater (1920), a book that considers European imperialism, WWI, and the East St. Louis Race Riots, all in the perspective of Du Bois’s democratic ideals and his conception of beauty.  When a “new comet” strikes the earth, it kills millions, in part through the release of “deadly gases.”  In New York, just two people seem to be left alive: Jim, a working-class black man, and Julia, a beautiful and well to do white woman.  

For most of the story Jim and Julia are alone, and during that time they imagine themselves as the sole survivors of the comet catastrophe, and as the soon-to-be progenitors of a new race and a new world.  Vague allusions to the Biblical apocalypse abound in Du Bois’s science fiction, as Jim and Julia anticipate the prospect of replacing a world wherein differences of class and race structure social life with a world within which such differences cease to exist.  

In Jim and Julia’s utopian vision, there is no ugliness.  As in Revelations 21, where the advent of “a new heaven and a new earth” is said to entail that “there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain,” Jim and Julia’s vision of a new earth seems similarly to lack anything of the ill and hate and hurt that Du Bois elsewhere says will always be with us.  For a few moments they fantasize a world in which “all is beauty.”  But their fantasy is short lived, for with the ugly “Honk! Honk!” of the car that announces the arrival of Julia’s father and boyfriend, they are confronted with the resurgence of class and racial hierarchies.  The story concludes on a note at once tragic and hopeful—with Jim discovering that the comet has killed his baby son, but that it has spared his wife whom he joyfully embraces.

 

George Lewis

I began writing the music for The Comet / Poppea under pandemic conditions in 2020 and 2021 in Berlin, where I was in residence with my family. While I was writing, I was making myself into a kind of busybody—sticking my nose into German cultural affairs, going on TV and the radio in my fractured German speech to suggest (or request) that the German and European world of contemporary classical music decolonize itself by thinking about some of the Afrodiasporic composers who, for no particularly good reason, have been absent from concert programming there. I imagined these absences as a huge hole in the roof: the rain was getting in and making a mess of the place. And I was writing this music while asking people to think about that image.

With my first opera, Afterword, there was no improvising: every word was written from start to finish. It was another kind of world—and I operate in that model quite a bit. But The Comet/Poppea is truly a different kind of experience, one with less autonomy. The music I wrote for this work would, I knew, exist as potential rather than as a complete description of the experience. For one thing, in Monteverdi, I had a co-composer. He’s not around anymore, but he still exercised considerable influence. 

 Du Bois’s short story “The Comet” was written in 1924, and these days, it’s considered a kind of proto-Afro-futurist text. The story is set in contemporary New York City (which, for Du Bois, was the 1920s) after a comet hits the earth, while The Coronation of Poppea unfolds in ancient Rome, where the emperor is seized with love for a woman who is not his wife. Many parallels between these two cities have been considered over the centuries, so that pairing comes with a kind of doubling. The Comet / Poppea plays with that dynamic: the two stories start to unfold in parallel worlds of time and space. As the piece goes on, those two worlds start to leak into each other. Drawing on Du Bois’s own concept of double consciousness, the opera is structured around a number of these doublings: points of repetition or intersection that underscore the dialogue between the two works and the relevance of that dialogue today. 

Both “The Comet” and The Coronation of Poppea deeply engage power and sexuality. We see this in the doubled couplings in each story: on one side of the veil, as DuBois has called it, we have his characters Julia and Jim. Jim is working-class and Black, while Julia is a white woman from the one percent. Julia isn’t really aware of the power of whiteness, but Jim certainly is. On the other side, we see Poppea, a noblewoman, and Nerone (the emperor Nero). Both of these relationships remind us that while it is possible for sexuality to transcend certain social divisions, it can also reveal and reinforce them, sometimes with bloody consequences. Seneca, the Stoic philosopher, is one of the early casualties of Nerone and Poppea’s love: he is ordered to a blameless death for daring to object to the mad emperor’s designs. During my writing process, as I was in touch with my collaborators and my students about repeated incidents of violence unfolding in the news, it struck me that Black people are often ordered to be Stoic under these conditions—to accept the brutality of a capricious power without resistance. In “The Comet,” I think we see a bit of that expectation and its consequences in Jim’s character, so that’s yet another doubling.

 Then there are the comets themselves. During my research process, I found that Seneca writes about the ways that comets were seen as portents of good fortune in ancient Rome, and I think that they are regarded similarly in our own time. Du Bois plays with this fantasy in his short story, highlighting and questioning the sense of earthly hope or anticipation that gets attached (often ineffectually) to celestial events. Considering Du Bois’s work as a sociologist, I’ve come to think of “The Comet” as a kind of thought experiment, unfolding in a rather dystopian situation. Everyone on the planet has been destroyed except for these two people—or so they think. So what happens when the large-scale social forces underpinning white supremacy are absent? 

I believe that it’s important to be honest about, and to honestly grapple with, the Afropessimist dimensions of Du Bois’s fictional experiment. Despite the possibility for a new order at the beginning of the story, “The Comet ” ultimately reminds us just how easily hierarchies as old as empire can return. Even when the veil is removed, it turns out that it has already affected us: it’s a type of radiation that has altered our DNA, and not for the better. So we must work even harder to remove it. 

 

Douglas Kearney

Juxtaposition fascinates me. It powers much figurative imagining and forms ligatures of associative thinking. In the field of contrast, productive tension, and surprising chime, juxtaposition, by holding the dissimilar in a curious intimacy, helps us become aware of possibilities we maybe didn’t intuit.

Case in point: director Yuval Sharon and composer George E. Lewis’s wild idea to pair a proto-Opera of the Italian court and a work of 1920s AfroFuturism.

The Comet / Poppea is the crossroads of this pairing.

In writing the libretto for The Comet / Poppea, however, I wasn’t explicitly tasked with looking for similarities between Monteverdi’s L’incoronazione Di Poppea and W.E.B. DuBois’s “The Comet.” That was excellent. Because, as a general rule, I distrust that kind of juxtaposition—the kind you find in metaphor and simile—as it makes lyrical the idea of false equivalence, whets a hunger for hunting out versions of ourselves in what is different, rather than working to understand particularities in divergence.

Instead, what excited me about paralleling these two stories along the ill trajectory of a comet, a side-winding bad sign, cousin, perhaps of the one that Tacitus noted, 50 years after Nero’s death, portended changes in rule, was how proximity warps them, bends them, each in turn.

L’incoronazione Di Poppea follows, positively it seems, an affair between a noblewoman, Poppea and the Roman emperor, Nero. How her manipulations and his abuse of power lead to their triumphant marriage. In  “The Comet,” the titular object kills a massive population in the early 20th century, sparing one Black man, Jim, and one white woman, Julia. They realize, with an almost divine sense of purpose, that they must repopulate humankind. I am interested in the pressure and pull of these stories, what they demand of each other and what 21st century opera demands of each of them. To that end, it was important that the stories survive in The Comet / Poppea; I didn’t write this libretto as a remix of either. Said plainly, I think of this opera as an adaptation, but one in which the sources are adapted to each other and not the genre of opera itself.

In our opera, DuBois’s comet tears time and space in its burning cold wake, creating a 1920s Manhattan where a radio acts as both a chorus and portal to a stylized/stymied first century Rome. In accordance with the ultimate bleakness of “The Comet,” and the historical vestments of the Monteverdi, any vision of possibility won’t appear via peering through this tattered portal. Even our opera’s deities use it without knowing its architect. This is because, here, we’ve made myth and sci-fi subject to folklore. Humbler, sure—but under its logic, characters from Heaven and Harlem got to make do. Those that force their will are the most grotesque. In The Comet / Poppea, transformation happens, just as a cold breeze, indeed, makes you colder for a time. But in such a breeze, you not only remain in your skin, you are keenly reminded of it.

The nature of change—what comes permanent, what won’t stay—haunts this libretto. As Jim, sings upon his entrance:

Where I come from, disaster is a home away from home.

I visit on vacation and I stay there when I roam.

When I swear I’m fixed to leave, I know I’m nearly there

and yesterday they would not have served me here.

See: The Comet / Poppea isn’t an exercise of pessimism, but an opportunity to play the changes in the changing same. Like folklore, like the Blues, or like a comet come round again, there’s always something to learn with another telling. Finding oneself at a crossroads simply increases the likelihood that something will come around.

THE ANNUNCIATION

THE ANNUNCIATION

Rosario Castellanos (Mexico, 1925 – 1974)
from The Sterile Virgin (1950)

Because since the beginning you were destined to be mine.
Before the ages of wheat and of the lark
and even before the fishes.
When God had nothing more than horizons
of unlimited blue and the universe
was a will not yet pronounced.
When everything lay in the divine lap,
intermingled and confused,
you and I lay there, complete, together.

Because since the beginning you were destined to be mine.

And here, you announce yourself.
Among contradictory angels you approach,
pouring yourself like a soft music,
like a glass of aromas and balsams.

You exalt my humility,
Your gaze, benevolent,
Transforms my wounds into ardent splendors.

And now, you approach
And you find me surrounded by prayers
Like high leaping flames.

 

LA ANUNCIACIÓN (extracto)

Rosario Castellanos (México, 1925 – 1974)
de De la vigilia estéril (1950)

Porque desde el principio me estabas destinado.
Antes de las edades del trigo y de la alondra
y aun antes de los peces.
Cuando Dios no tenía más que horizontes
de ilimitado azul y el universo
era una voluntad no pronunciada.
Cuando todo yacía en el regazo
divino, entremezclado y confundido,
yacíamos tú y yo totales, juntos.

Porque desde el principio me estabas destinado…

He aquí que te anuncias.
Entra contradictorios ángeles te aproximas,
como una suave música te viertes,
como un vaso de aromas y de bálsamos.

Por humilde me exaltas,
Tu mirada, benévola,
Transforma mis llagas en ardientes esplendores.

He aquí que te acercas
Y me encuentras rodeada de plegarias
Como de hogueras altas.

1. SE HABLA DE GABRIEL *

Rosario Castellanos (México, 1925 – 1974)

Como todos los huéspedes
mi hijo me estorba ocupando un lugar que era mi lugar
existiendo a deshonra,
haciéndome partir en dos cada bocado.

Fea, enferma, aburrida,
lo sentía crecer a mis expensas,
robarle su color a mi sangre,
añadir un peso y un volumen clandestinos
a mi modo de estar sobre la tierra.

Su cuerpo me pidió nacer, cederle el paso;
darle un sitio en el mundo,
la provisión de tiempo necesaria a su historia.
El paso, el paso.

Consentí.
Y por la herida en que partió,
por esa hemorragia de su desprendimiento
se fue también lo último que tuve de soledad,
de yo mirando trás de un vidrio.

Quede abierta, ofrecida
a las visitaciones, al viento
Quedé abierta a la presencia.

* El hijo del poeta Castellano, Gabriel, nació en 1961.


Apocryphal Gospel of James
(coda of GABRIEL WAS SPOKEN OF)

Now I, Joseph, was walking about
and I looked up and saw the heaven standing still,
and I observed in amazement,
and the birds of heaven at rest.
I looked down at the earth
and I saw a vessel lying there,
and workmen reclining,
and their hands were in the vessel.
Those who were chewing did not chew.
Those who were lifting did not lift up,
and those who were carrying to their mouths
did not carry, but all faces were looking upward.

I saw sheep standing still,
and the shepherd raised his hand to strike them,
but his arm remained up.

I observed the streaming river,
and I saw the mouths of the kids and the water,
but they were not drinking.

The winds stopped; they made no sound:
there was no motion of tree leaves.
The streams did not flow;
there was no motion of the sea.

The maiden stood looking intently into heaven.

1. TALK OF GABRIEL *

Rosario Castellanos (Mexico, 1925 – 1974)

Like all my guests my son impeded me,
occupying a place that was my place,
existing at inopportune times,
making me divide each bite in two.

Ugly, sick, bored,
I felt him grow at my expense,
steal the color from my blood,
add clandestine weight and volume
to my way of being on the earth.

His body asked to be born, to yield to his passing,
to give him his place in the world
the provision of time necessary for his history.


I consented.
And through the wound of his departure,
through the hemorrhage of his detachment,
also went the last of my solitude,
looking alone behind a glass.

I remained open, offered
to the visitations, to the wind,
to presence.

* Poet Castellano’s son, Gabriel, was born 1961


Evangelio apócrifo de Jacobo
(coda de SE HABLA DE GABRIEL)

Ahora yo, José, caminaba,
y miré hacia arriba y ví detenido el Cielo,
y observé en asombro,
y las aves del Cielo en descanso.
Y miré hacia abajo a la tierra
y ví allí una vasija,
y los obreros reclinaban,
y sus manos dentro de la vasija.
Aquellos que masticaban no masticaron.
Aquellos que levantaban no levantaron,
y aquellos que no comían
no comieron, pero todos miraban hacia arriba

Ví ovejas detenidos en su lugar,
y el pastor levantaba la mano para golpearlas,
pero su brazo permaneció en alto.

Y observé el río que fluye,
y ví las bocas de los corderos y el agua,
pero no bebían.

Y los vientos se detuvieron en silencio:
no había movimiento en las hojas de los árboles
Los arroyos no fluían;
no había movimiento en el mar.

La doncella se quedó mirando intensamente al Cielo.

2. MAGNIFICAT

King James Version (1604 – 1611)
Luke 1: 46-55

And Mary said,

My soul doth magnify the Lord,
and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.
For he hath regard the low estate of his handmaiden:
for, behold, from henceforth,
all generations shall call me blessed.

For he that is mighty hath done to me great things;
and holy is his name.
And, his mercy is on them that fear him
from generation to generation.
For he hath shown his strength with his arm;
he hath scattered the proud
He hath put down the mighty from their seats,
and exalted them of low degree.
He hath filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he hath sent empty away.
He hath helped his servant Israel
in remembrance of his mercy;
As he spake to our fathers, to Abraham,
and to his seed for ever.

2. MAGNIFICAT

Reina-Valera Versión
San Lucas 1: 46-55

Entonces María dijo:

Engrandece mi alma al Señor;
Y mi espíritu se alegró en Dios mi Salvador.
Porque ha mirado á la bajeza de su criada;
porque he aquí, desde ahora
me dirán bienaventurada todas las generaciones.

Porque me ha hecho grandes cosas el Poderoso;
y santo es su nombre.
Y su misericordia de generación á generación
á los que le temen.
Hizo valentía con su brazo:
esparció los soberbios
Quitó los poderosos de los tronos,
y levantó á los humildes.
A los hambrientos hinchió de bienes;
y á los ricos envió vacíos.
Recibió á Israel su siervo,
acordándose de la misericordia,
Como habló á nuestros padres á Abraham
y á su simiente para siempre.

3. SHAKE THE HEAVENS

King James Version (1604 – 1611)
Haggai 2: 6-7

For thus saith the Lord […] :

Yet once, it is a little while,
and I will shake the heavens
and the earth and the sea and the dry land.
And the desires of all the nations shall come.

And I will fill this house with glory.
And in this place, I will give peace.

 

Apocryphal Gospel of James

They drew near to Bethlehem.
They were three miles distant,
and Joseph turned and saw Mary weeping
and he said
“Probably that which is in her is distressing her.”

Once again Joseph turned and saw her laughing,
and he said:
“Mary, how is it that I see your face at one moment laughing and at another time weary?”

She said to Joseph,
“It is because I see two peoples with my eyes,
the one weeping and mourning,
the other rejoicing and glad.”

3. SACUDE LOS CIELOS

Reina-Valera Version
Haggeo 2: 6-7

Porque así dice Dios […]:

De aquí á poco aun haré
yo temblar los cielos
y la tierra, y la mar y la seca.
Y vendrá el Deseado de todas las gentes.

y henchiré esta casa de gloria,
y daré paz en este lugar.

 

Evangelio apócrifo de Santiago

Se acercaron hacia Belén. 
Estaban a tres millas de distancia,
y volteó José y vió a María llorar
y dijo
“Probablemente lo que hay en ella la está angustiando.”

Otra vez volteó José y la vió reir,
y dijo:
“María ¿cómo es que veo tu rostro unas veces
riendo y otras veces cansada?”

Le dijo a José,
“Es porque veo en mis ojos dos pueblos,
el que llora y se lamenta,
el otro regocijado y contento.”

4. PUES MI DIOS NACIDO A PENAR – VILLANCICO V *
(NAVIDAD, 1689, no. 287)

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz (Mexico, 1648 – 1695)

Pues mi Dios ha nacido a penar,
déjenle velar.

Pues está desvelada por mi
déjenle dormir.

Déjenle velar,
que no hay pena, en quien ama,
como no penar.

Déjenle dormir,
que quien duerme, en el sueño
se ensaya a morir.

Silencio, que duerme.
Cuidado, que vela…

Déjenle velar.
Déjenle dormir.

4. BECAUSE MY LORD WAS BORN TO SUFFER
(CHRISTMAS, 1689, no. 287)

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz (Mexico, 1648 – 1695)

Since my God was born to suffer,
let him stay awake.

Since he stays awake for me,
let him sleep.

Let him stay awake,
for there is no pain,
in one who loves as if there’s no suffering.

Let him sleep,
for one who sleeps,
while dreaming, rehearses death.

Silence, let him sleep.
Take care, let him stay awake…

Let him stay awake.
Let him sleep.

5. WHEN HEROD HEARD

King James Version (1604 – 1611)
Matthew 2: 1-3, 7-8

Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea
in the days of Herod the king, behold,
there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem, saying,

“Where is he that is born King of the Jews?
for we have seen his star in the East
and have come to worship him.”

Now when Herod the king had heard these things,
he was troubled […] and he privily called his wise men,
inquired of them diligently what time the star appeared.
And he sent them to Bethlehem, saying,

“Go and search diligently for the young child;
and when you have found him bring me word again
that I may come and worship him also.”

5. CUANDO HERODES ESCUCHÓ

Reina-Valera Version
San Mateo 2: 1-3, 7-8 (p. 2391)

Y como fué nacido Jesús en Bethlehem de Judea
en días del rey Herodes,
he aquí unos magos vinieron del oriente á Jerusalem, Diciendo:

¿Dónde está el Rey de los Judíos, que ha nacido?
porque su estrella hemos visto en el oriente,
y venimos a adorarle.

Y oyendo esto el rey Herodes,
se turbó,[…] y llamando en secreto á los magos,
entendió de ellos diligentemente el tiempo del aparecimiento de la estrella;
Y enviándolos á Bethlehem, dijo:

Andad allá, y preguntad con diligencia por el niño;
y después que le hallareis, hacédmelo saber,
para que yo también vaya y le adore.

6. AND THE STAR WENT BEFORE THEM

King James Version (1604 – 1611)
Matthew 2: 9, 11

When they had heard the king, they departed;
and, lo, the star which they saw in the east,
went before them,
till it came and stood over where the young child was.
And when they were come into the house,
they saw the young child with Mary his mother,
and fell down and worshiped him:
and when they had opened their treasures,
they presented unto him gifts;
gold, frankincense, myrrh.

6. Y LA ESTRELLA IBA DELANTE DE ELLOS

Reina-Valera Version
Mateo 2: 9, 11 (p. 2392)

Y ellos, habiendo oído al rey, se fueron:
y he aquí la estrella que habían visto en el oriente,
iba delante de ellos,
hasta que llegando, se puso sobre donde estaba el niño.

Y entrando en la casa,
vieron al niño con su madre María,
y postrándose, le adoraron;
y abriendo sus tesoros, le ofrecieron dones,
oro é incienso y mirra.

7. THE THREE WISE KINGS*

Rubén Darío (Nicaragua, 1867 – 1916)

– I am Gaspar. I have brought frankincense.
and I have come here to say: that life is good.
That God exists. I have come here to say that love is
everything.
I know it is so because of the heavenly star!

– I am Melchior.
I have brought fragrant myrrh
Yes, God exists. He is the light of day.
The whitest flower is rooted in the mud.
And all delights are tinged with melancholy!

– I am Balthasar. I have brought gold. I assure you
God exists. He is great and strong.
Know it is so because of the perfect star
that shines so brightly in Death’s diadem.

– Gaspar, Melchior, Balthasar, be still.
Love has triumphed and bids you to its feast.
Christ reborn turns chaos into light,
and on his brow, He wears the crown of life!

*originally written in Spanish and translated into English for
this piece

7. LOS TRES REYES MAGOS

Rubén Darío (Nicaragua, 1867 – 1916)

– Yo soy Gaspar. Aquí traigo el incienso.
Vengo a decir: La vida es pura y bella.
Existe Dios. El amor es inmenso.
¡Todo lo sé por la divina Estrella!

– Yo soy Melchor.
La mirra aroma todo.
Existe Dios. Él es la luz del día.
La blanca flor tiene sus pies en lodo.
¡Y en el placer hay la melancolía!

– Soy Baltasar. Traigo el oro. Aseguro
que existe Dios. Él es el grande y fuerte.
Todo lo sé por el lucero puro
que brilla en la diadema de la Muerte.

– Gaspar, Melchor y Baltasar, callaos.
Triunfa el Amor, y a su fiesta os convida.
¡Cristo resurge, hace la luz del caos
y tiene la corona de la Vida!

8. AND WHEN THEY WERE DEPARTED

King James Version (1604 – 1611)
Matthew 2: 13

And when they were departed,
behold, the angel of the Lord,
appeared to Joseph in a dream, saying,

“Arise and take the young child
and his mother and flee into Egypt,
and be thou there until I bring thee word:
for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him.”

8. Y CUANDO SE FUERON

Reina-Valera Version
San Mateo 2: 13 (p. 2392)

Y partidos ellos,
he aquí el ángel del Señor
aparece en sueños á José, diciendo:

Levántate, y toma al niño
y á su madre, y huye á Egipto,
y estáte allá hasta que yo te lo diga;
porque ha de acontecer, que Herodes buscará al niño para matarlo.

9. AND HE HATH SLEW ALL THE CHILDREN

King James Version (1604 – 1611)
Matthew 2: 16

Then Herod, when he saw that he
was mocked [by] the wise men,
was exceeding wroth, and he sent forth,
and he slew all the children that were in Bethel.

9. Y MATÓ A TODOS LOS NIÑOS

Reina-Valera Versión
Mateo 2: 16 (p. 2392)

Herodes entonces, como se
vió burlado de los magos,
se enojó mucho, y envió,
y mató á todos los niños que había en Bethlehem.

10. MEMORIAL DE TLATELOLCO

Rosario Castellanos (México, 1925 – 1974)

La oscuridad engendra la violencia
y la violencia pide oscuridad
para cuajar el crimen.

Por eso el dos de octubre aguardó hasta la noche
para que nadie viera la mano que empuñaba
el arma, sino sólo su efecto de relámpago.

¿Y a esa luz, breve y lívida, quién? ¿Quién es el que
mata?
¿Quiénes los que agonizan, los que mueren?
¿Los que huyen sin zapatos?
¿Los que van a caer al pozo de una cárcel?
¿Los que se pudren en el hospital?
¿Los que se quedan mudos, para siempre, de espanto?

¿Quién? ¿Quiénes? Nadie. Al día siguiente, nadie.
La plaza amaneció barrida; los periódicos
dieron como noticia principal
el estado del tiempo.
Y en la televisión, en el radio, en el cine
no hubo ningún cambio de programa,
ningún anuncio intercalado ni un
minuto de silencio en el banquete.
(Pues prosiguió el banquete.)

No busques lo que no hay: huellas, cadáveres
que todo se le ha dado como ofrenda a una diosa,
a la Devoradora de Excrementos.
No hurgues en los archivos
pues nada consta en actas.

Ay, la violencia pide oscuridad
porque la oscuridad engendra sueño
y podemos dormir soñando que soñamos.

Mas he aquí que toco una llaga: es mi memoria.
Duele, luego es verdad. Sangra con sangre
y si la llamo mía traiciono a todos.
Recuerdo, recordamos.
Ésta es nuestra manera de ayudar a que amanezca
sobre tantas conciencias mancilladas,
sobre un texto iracundo sobre una reja abierta,
sobre el rostro amparado tras la máscara.
hasta que la justicia se siente entre nosotros.

10. IN MEMORY OF TLATELOLCO

Rosario Castellanos (Mexico, 1925 – 1974)

Darkness engenders violence
and violence demands darkness
to coagulate the crime.

That is why October the second waited until night
So that no one could see the hand that gripped
The weapon, but only its lightning flash effect.

And in that light, brief and pallid, who? Who is it
that kills? Who are those who agonize? those who die?
Those who flee without shoes?
Those who run to fall into the pit of a prison?
Those who rot in the hospital?
Those who remain mute, forever, with terror?

Who? Who? No one. On the following day, no one.
Dawn broke on the plaza cleanly swept **;
the newspapers reported as the main news
the state of the weather.
And on the television, on the radio, in the cinema
there was no change of program,
no interrupting news bulletin, nor even one
minute of silence at the banquet.
(Thus the banquet proceeded.)

Don’t search for that which is not there: traces, corpses
for all has been given as offering to a goddess,
to the Devourer of Excrements. +
Do not rummage through the archives
for nothing has been recorded.

Oh, violence calls for violence
because darkness breeds sleep
and we can sleep dreaming that we sleep.

But behold, I touch a wound: it is my memory,
It hurts, then it is true. Bleed with blood
and if I call it mine, I betray everyone.
I remember, we remember.
It is our way of awakening
amidst so many tainted consciences,
amidst an angry text, amidst an open gate,
amidst a face concealed behind a mask.
until justice is felt by us all.

* written after the military and police massacred students
and
civilians protesting the government in the Plaza de las
Tres Culturas on October 2, 1968, in the Tlatelolco
section of Mexico City.

** literal translation: “the plaza day-break sweep”;
“barrida” can be translated as: to sweep clean;
a political sweep; or a slaughter

+ refers to the goddess Tlazoltéotl, the Devourer of
Excrement

11. PUES ESTÁ TIRITANDO

King James Version (1604 – 1611)
Isaiah 30: 25, 26

IN THE DAYS OF THE GREAT SLAUGHTER

In the days of the great slaughter, when the towers fall,
the light of the moon shall be the light of the sun,
and the light of the sun shall be sevenfold,
as the light of seven days […]
And there shall be upon ev’ry high mountain
and upon ev’ry high hill, rivers and streams of waters.

 

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz (México, 1648 – 1695)

POR CELEBRAR DEL INFANTE – VILLANCICO I *
(NAVIDAD, 1689, no. 283)

1––Pues está tiritando
Amor en el hielo,
y la escarcha y la nieve
me lo tienen preso,
¿quién le acude?
  2––¡El Agua!
    3––¡La Tierra!
         4––¡El Aire!

1––¡No, sino el Fuego!
Pues el Niño fatigan
sus penas y males,
y a sus ansias no dudo
que alientos le faltan,
¿quién le acude?
  2––¡El Fuego!
    3––¡La Tierra!
      4––¡El Agua!

1––¡No, sino el Aire!
Pues el Niño amoroso
tan tierno se abrasa
que respira en Volcanes
diluvios de llamas,
¿quién le acude?
  2––¡El Aire!
    3––¡El Fuego!
      4––¡La Tierra!

1––¡No, sino el agua!
Si por la tierra el Niño
los Cielos hoy deja,
y no halla en qué descanse
su Cabeza en ella,
¿quién le acude?
  2––¡El Agua!
    3––¡El Fuego!
      4––¡El Aire!

1––¡No, mas la Tierra!

11. FOR HE IS SHIVERING

Reina-Valera Version
Isaías 30: 25, 26

EL DÍA DE LA GRAN MATANZA

En el día de la gran matanza, cuando caerán las torres,
la luz de la luna será como la luz del sol,
y la luz del sol siete veces mayor,
como la luz de siete días,
Y sobre todo monte alto,
y sobre todo collado subido, habrá ríos y corrientes de aguas


Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz (Mexico, 1648 – 1695)

TO CELEBRATE THE INFANT
(CHRISTMAS, 1689, no. 283)

1––Since Love is shivering
on the ice, and the frost and the snow
have imprisoned him from me,
Who attends to him?
  2––The Water!
    3––The Earth!
      4––The Air!

1–– No, but the Fire will!
Since the Child becomes exhausted
with pains and ills,
and his anxieties no doubt
leave him breathless
Who attends to him?
  2––The Fire!
    3––The Earth!
      4––The Water!

1––No, but the Air will!
Since the loving, tender Child,
burns himself
as he breathes floods of flames
like in Volcanoes,
Who attends to him?
  2––The Air!
    3––The Fire!
      4––The Earth!

1––No, but the Water will!
Since the Child today
leaves the heavens for the earth,
and can find here
some place to rest his head,
Who attends to him?
  2––The Water!
    3––The Fire!
      4––The Air!

1––No, but the Earth will!

* villancico was a common poetic and musical form of
Latin America, popular from the late 15th to 18th centuries.
With the decline in popularity of the villancicos in the 20th
century, the term became reduced to mean merely
Christmas carol.

12. A PALM TREE
Two works interwoven

I. Apocrypha of the New Testament
Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew 20

And so it happened
that on the third day after their departure
Mary was fatigued by the heat of the sun in the dessert
And seeing a palm tree said to Joseph
“I want to rest a bit under its shadow.”
Joseph quickly led her to the palm
and let her get down from the animal

While Mary sat,
she looked up at the top of the palm
and saw it full of fruit.
She said to Joseph,
“I wish I might have some fruit from this tree.”

Joseph said to her,
“I am astonished that you say this,
when you see how high this palm tree is.
You think to eat from the fruit of the palm,
but it is not possible.
I think more of the lack of water,
which already fails us.
We now have nothing by which we can refresh ourselves
and the animal.”

Then, the infant Jesus,
who was resting with smiling face
on his mother’s lap,
said to the palm tree
“Bend down tree and refresh my mother with your fruit.”
And at this voice
the palm bent down its head to the feet of Mary,
and they gathered its fruit,
and all were refreshed.

Then Jesus said to it,
“Rise up, palm, and be strong,
be a companion of my trees
which are in my Father’s Paradise.
Open a water course beneath your roots
which is hidden in the Earth,
and from it let flow waters to satisfy us.”
And the palm raised itself at once,
and fountains of water,
very clear and cold and sweet,
began to pour out through the roots.

II. Rosario Castellanos (México, 1925 – 1974)
de El rescate del mundo (1952)

UNA PALMERA
(interpola en A PALM TREE)

Señora de los vientos,
garza de la llanura
cuando te meces canta
tu cintura.

Gesto de la oración
o preludio del vuelo,
en tu copa se vierten uno a uno
los cielos.

Desde el país oscuro de los hombres
he venido, a mirarte, de rodillas.
Alta, desnuda, única.
Poesía.

12. UNA PALMERA
Dos textos entrelazados

I. Apócrifa del Nuevo Testamento
Evangelio del pseudo-Mateo 20

Y así sucedió
que en el tercer día después de su partida
María estaba cansada por el calor del sol en el desierto
Y al ver una palmera le dijo a José
“Quiero descansar un poco debajo de su sombra.”

Rápidamente José la llevó hacia la palmera
y la bajó del animal

Mientras María se sentaba
miró hacia arriba a la palmera
y vió su fruta
Le dijo a José,
“Quisiera comer alguna fruta de este árbol.”

José le dijo,
“Me asombro a que me lo digas,
cuando veas qué tan alta está la palmera.
Piensas comer la fruta de la palmera,
pero esto no es posible.
Pienso más en la falta de agua,
que aun nos falla.
Ahora no temenos nada para refrescarnos y el animal

Y luego el niño Jesús,
quien descansaba con su rostro sonriente
en el regazo de su madre,
le dijo a la palmera
“Inclínate árbol y refresca a mi madre con tu fruto.”
Y al escuchar su voz
la palmera se inclinó a los pies de María,
y recogieron su fruta,
y todos se refrescaron.

Luego Jesús le dijo
“Levántate, palmera, y se fuerte,
se una compañera de mis árboles
que están en el Paraíso de mi Padre.
Abre un curso de agua debajo de tus raíces
escondidas en la Tierra,
y deja que fluyan las aguas para satisfacernos.”
Y la palmera se alzó en seguida,
y las fuentes de agua,
muy claras y frías y dulces,
comenzaron a brotar por todas las raíces.


Rosario Castellanos (Mexico, 1925 – 1974)
from The rescue of the world (1952)

A PALM


Lady of the winds,
heron of the plain
when you sway,
your waist sings.

Gesture of prayer
or prelude to the flight of wings,
into your cup are poured the heavens
one by one.

From the dark land of men
I have come, to look at you, kneeling.
Tall, naked, unique.
Poetry.

 

 

Company

ADAM YOUNG

ADAM YOUNG

ALEXANDER GEDEON

ALEXANDER GEDEON

AMANDA LYNN BOTTOMS

AMANDA LYNN BOTTOMS

ANTHONY ROTH COSTANZO

ANTHONY ROTH COSTANZO

CATH BRITTAN

CATH BRITTAN

COLEMAN ITZKOFF

COLEMAN ITZKOFF

DAVÓNE TINES

DAVÓNE TINES

DOUG BALLIETT

DOUG BALLIETT

DOUGLAS KEARNEY

DOUGLAS KEARNEY

ELLIOT FIGG

ELLIOT FIGG

EMI FERGUSON

EMI FERGUSON

EVAN HUGHES

EVAN HUGHES

GEORGE LEWIS

GEORGE LEWIS

JOELLE LAMARRE

JOELLE LAMARRE

JOHN TORRES

JOHN TORRES

JONNY ALLEN

JONNY ALLEN

KEARSTIN PIPER BROWN

KEARSTIN PIPER BROWN

KEIR GOGWILT

KEIR GOGWILT

KIERA DUFFY

KIERA DUFFY

MARC LOWENSTEIN

MARC LOWENSTEIN

MARK GREY

MARK GREY

MILA HENRY

MILA HENRY

MIMI LIEN

MIMI LIEN

MIRANDA CUCKSON

MIRANDA CUCKSON

OANA BOTEZ

OANA BOTEZ

PAUL HOLMES MORTON

PAUL HOLMES MORTON

RICHARD VALITUTTO

RICHARD VALITUTTO

ROBERT GOODING-WILLIAMS

ROBERT GOODING-WILLIAMS

WENDY HELLER

WENDY HELLER

WHITNEY MORRISON

WHITNEY MORRISON

YUVAL SHARON

YUVAL SHARON

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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