…to me from the earth… was commissioned by CAM Raleigh in collaboration with New Music Raleigh and North Carolina Symphony for performance in artist Thomas Sayre’s exhibition “White Gold.” “White Gold” refers to the cotton industry in the American South and the artist’s respect and reverence for the land and the labor from which the cotton grows. …to me from the earth…was premiered by the North Carolina Symphony and New Music Raleigh with Soprano Aundi Marie Moore in four performances in November, 2016.

Political activist and writer Grayson Haver Currin describes the premiere performance as “an absorbing piece of slow-moving music that doubles as site-specific work and triples as political performance art.” Currin continues, “Sparr composed the thirty-one-minute …to me from the earth… after several visits with Sayre, where he would see early models of the installation and ask the artist about his upbringing and inspiration, his motivation and his memories.

The study shows. Like Sayre’s own pieces, which show the toil behind their production in every smear of tar or every heavy chunk of concrete, …to me from earth… is physical and slightly confrontational. Especially near the start, the tones are snarling, with abrasive slashes of violin digging into a sinister drone. At various points throughout, the musicians whisper the Soprano’s words beneath her, suggesting a platform of ghosts with pain and persecution that’s needed an outlet for centuries.”

The work is dedicated to the progress and improvement of the human condition.

I. Introduction (Blue Smoke Rising)
My red pickup choked on burnt oil
as I drove down Highway 99.
In wind-tattered garbage bags
I had packed my whole life:
two pairs of jeans, a few T-shirts,
an a pair of work boots.
My red pickup choked on burnt oil,
and through the blue smoke rising from under the hood,
I saw almond orchards, plums,
and raisins spread out on paper trays,
and acres of Mendota cotton my mother picked as a child.

II. Furrow (Dust That Filled the Air)
My mother crawled through the furrows
and plucked cotton balls that filled
the burlap sack she dragged,
shoulder-slung, through dried-up bolls, 
husks, weevils, dirt clods,
and dust that filled the air with thirst.

III. Field (Told by the Setting Sun)
But when she grew tired,
she slept on her mom’s burlap,
stuffed thick as a mattress,
and Grandma dragged her over the land
where time was told by the setting sun. . . .

IV. Soliloquy: Earth Casting (To Me From the Earth) & Barn (Whispered its Soft Curses)
History cried out to me from the earth, 
in the scream of starling flight, 
and pounded at the hulls of seeds to be set free. 
History licked the asphalt with rubber
sighed in the windows of abandoned barns, 
slumped in the wind-blasted palms, groaned in the heat, and whispered its soft curses.

V. Conclusion (Mi Historia)
I wanted my own history—not the Earth’s (…mi historia)
nor the history of blood, nor of memory (…mi historia)
and not the job founded for me (…mi historia)

...to me from the earth... (live recording at CAM Raleigh)

Hammer & Nail is a fast and furious duo inspired by heavy metal and progressive rock.  It features hard hitting, razor sharp contrapuntal lines between the two instruments, creating a brazen and percussive sound with the sophistication of Bach and the rebelliousness of Sid Vicious.

Performance by the Soli Chamber Ensemble - https://www.solichamberensemble.com/

D.J. Sparr - Electric Guitar
Carolyn True - Piano

See the entire concert! - https://youtu.be/0yFTLHPEF2o

More Info

Hammer And Nail, for Electric Guitar and Piano

D.J. SPARR: The Glam Seduction

Oxygen by Randall West

Midterm projects from MUSI464/591 at Yale School of Music

Meretzky // Vyolinen Round

"Only a beginning" was inspired by words and music I interacted with during the Summer of 2015.  The title comes from Indira Ghandi's quote: "Martyrdom does not end something, it is only a beginning."  I happen to stumble upon this quote after a week of performing Poulenc's "Dialogues of the Carmelites" at Caramoor and a chance encounter of hearing a friend sing the "In Paradisum" of the standard Catholic Funeral mass.  With all of these events coinciding, I could not help but reflect on what sacrifice means - what we think it means, and how it actually plays out in everyday life. We may sacrifice things for God, our spouse, our children, our family, our friends, sometimes even for people we don't even know. This piece explores what can happen to us emotionally in this act of giving, and what we ultimately learn about ourselves in the process.

Recorded live in Scarsdale, NY in February 2016
Ani Gregorian, violin
Jessica Meyer, viola

"Only a Beginning" for Violin and Viola

2. ...to me from the earth... (live recording)

The earth is my witness

I. Introduction (Blue Smoke Rising)
My red pickup choked on burnt oil
as I drove down Highway 99.
In wind-tattered garbage bags
I had packed my whole life:
two pairs of jeans, a few T-shirts,
an a pair of work boots.
My red pickup choked on burnt oil,
and through the blue smoke rising from under the hood,
I saw almond orchards, plums,
and raisins spread out on paper trays,
and acres of Mendota cotton my mother picked as a child.

1. ...to me from the earth... (live recording)

II. Furrow (Dust That Filled the Air)
My mother crawled through the furrows
and plucked cotton balls that filled
the burlap sack she dragged,
shoulder-slung, through dried-up bolls, 
husks, weevils, dirt clods,
and dust that filled the air with thirst.

3. ...to me from the earth... (live recording)

4. ...to me from the earth... (live recording)

III. Field (Told by the Setting Sun)
But when she grew tired,
she slept on her mom’s burlap,
stuffed thick as a mattress,
and Grandma dragged her over the land
where time was told by the setting sun. . . .

5. ...to me from the earth... (live recording)

IV. Soliloquy: Earth Casting (To Me From the Earth) & Barn (Whispered its Soft Curses)
History cried out to me from the earth, 
in the scream of starling flight, 
and pounded at the hulls of seeds to be set free. 
History licked the asphalt with rubber
sighed in the windows of abandoned barns, 
slumped in the wind-blasted palms, groaned in the heat, and whispered its soft curses.

V. Conclusion (Mi Historia)
I wanted my own history—not the Earth’s (…mi historia)
nor the history of blood, nor of memory (…mi historia)
and not the job founded for me (…mi historia)

6. ...to me from the earth... (live recording)

for violin, alto sax, electric guitar, double bass, piano, and percussion
Written for decibel, recorded at Real World Studios in Bath, England on January 20th, 2017. 

in the desperate din of 
this uncharted conversation
a quiet realization

there is no manual for this moment

there is only your 
unceasing, senseless chatter
and I find I have less to say

Cresswell: I find I have less to say

I find I have less to say (2017)

for orchestra

2 fl, picc,  3 ob, 2 clar, bass clar, 2 bsn, cbsn

4 hn, 3 tpt, 2 tbn, bass tbn

harp, piano, timpani, 3 perc

strings

Program notes:

We use the same word for a windowed room and the chambers of our hearts. Light—like blood—must pass through the atrium to fill us with breath and life.

Recorded in a reading session by Michael Lewanski and the Toledo Symphony Orchestra on November 7, 2017 in Kobacker Hall (Bowling Green State University).

Atrium

https://www.innova.mu/albums/d-j-sparr/electric-bands
innova 013

ELECTRIC BANDS

D. J. Sparr: I Can Hear  Her Through The Thin Wall Singing - 5. Heaven

Caitlin Vincent, Libretto

Lindsay Kesselman, Soprano
Kevin Geraldi, Conductor
UNCG Chamber Wind Ensemble

6. ...to me from the earth... (live recording)

D. J. Sparr

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