Missing Piece

Bury the Hatchet (2023) outlines, in fairly firm terms, how we respond to personal hurt. When we’re hurt, when we grow apart, when we’re at odds, we choose: if we believe that the person can change, we go through the difficult and often non-linear path of healing with them (burying the hatchet) — if this person has proven their inability to change, we should feel free to end that relationship gleefully and without remorse (twisting the knife). Neither choice is represented in pure programmatic form between the two voices, violin and cello, but more so in energy — halting misalignment and squabbling leading to the eventual warm cohesion of the first movement, the maniacal speed and vicious glee of the second. In short: some relationships are worth the work, and the others can be cut loose.

Shadows of Time in five episodes for orchestra by Henri Dutilleux is a work that I partic­u­larly admire. It is a rich and extra­or­di­narily shaped compo­sition. I find the third movement, “Mémoire des ombres” (Memories of Shadows) deeply moving in its subject (the text is a sentence from Anne Frank’s diary: “Why us, why the star?”), in its dedi­cation – “for Anne Frank and for all the children in the world, all innocent (1945-1995)” – and in its unfor­gettable compo­si­tional mastery.

I took a phrase, the first one sung by the child’s voice, as a point of departure for my little homage because it has often come to my mind since 1998, the year I first heard the work.

I wrote this piece origi­nally as an homage to Henri Dutilleux’s 95th birthday.

Aure, physics, old word. Breeze, breath, air:
We were caressed by a gentle breeze that our ancient language called “aure”; a kind of delicate morning breeze, misty and scented in the dew. (Chateaubriand, Mémoires d’outre-tombe)

Dance and Meditation was commissioned by Missing Piece Duo with support from the Illinois Arts Council. Often with violin and cello duos, it is typical to have the violin play the melody while the cello accompanies. I wanted to explore bringing the two instruments together as if they are one voice.

The first movement is a fast dance. The two instruments often play in a similar register together. The movement’s opening main motive is developed with an almost obsessive focus, becoming faster and more frantic. Finally the movement climaxes with a celebratory return to the opening gesture, now with the violin playing the main motive in a much higher register while the cello plays leaping patterns and quickly switches between pizz. and arco. The movement concludes with a hushed slower version of the opening theme.

The second movement, “Meditation,” is much calmer. Neither the violin or cello plays the melody at first. I explore adding a third voice of the two instrumentalists singing a wordless vocalise.

Inspired by a shared love of foraging—be it acorns or found sounds— forager, developed with and written for Missing Piece, combines field recordings, found objects, direct animation and images/video gathered in Southern California and Illinois. Blending recorded improvisations by Missing Piece with fixed media and graphic notation, forager invites performers and audience members to consider the surprising beauty and complexity with which the natural world integrates with the decaying urban landscapes we inhabit and navigate daily.