"I love the kind of woman who will actually just kill me." - Spike Spiegel

You Alright Shawty?

Grace Rogers has been inspired by musicians of many genres, resulting in a style that relates to many types of music, but barely fits in to any genre fully. 

You Don't Own the Blues

Performed May 3rd, 2016 at the University of Illinois in Urbana-Champaign.

Marla Moore, soprano
Larisa Chasanov, piano

Willow 
Poem by Anna Akhmatova
Translated into English by Judith Hemschemeyer

And I grew up in patterned tranquility,
In the cool nursery of the young century.
And the voice of man was not dear to me,
But the voice of the wind I could understand.
I liked burdocks and nettles,
But best of all the silver willow.
And, obligingly, it lived
With me all my life; its weeping branches
Fanned my insomnia with dreams.
And—strange!—I have outlived it.
There the stump stands; with strange voices
Other willows are conversing 
Under our, under those skies.
And I am silent…As if a brother had died.

	This poetry by Anna Akhmatova paints a beautifully tragic scene—touching largely on elements of memory, nostalgia, dream, and loss.  The speaker begins by recalling a placid childhood in which nature provided more understanding and healing than that of humankind.  For whatever reasons, the speaker could not understand the actions of men, but instead felt comfort and solace in the whispering branches of a willow tree—a tree that she felt watched over her at night and soothed her with a gentle lullaby from its whispering branches.  

It is not until the last five lines of the poem that we understand why the speaker has been moved to recall these childhood memories; she has returned, presumably as an adult after years of being away, to her childhood home—to the willow tree that helped raise her—only to find that it is gone.  The tree has been cut down and instantly a sting of pain, of loss cuts through her.  Suddenly her source of healing as a child has been cut off and she must find a way to push on—much like one who has lost a close relative, even a brother.

This vivid imagery spoke to me and I tried to create a musical environment in which all of the complex emotional states in the poem could be explored.  Although very little action takes place—arguable none—the speaker’s inner turmoil is staggering.  

The piece was written specifically for soprano Marla Moore.  The work requires a great deal of technique, both emotionally and dramatically.  Having seen both of those from Marla, I knew that her fluid coloratura and vast emotional pallet would fit the character of the music and the speaker perfectly.  

-Lucas Marshall Smith


Willow (2016) for soprano and piano

so much of any year is flammable draws its title from a poem by Naomi Shihab Nye entitled Burning the Old Year. The piece seizes fragments of live radio signals and intercuts them with an original fixed media composition by tapping simple rhythms in morse code across conductive materials. The piece does not necessarily follow a literal interpretation of the poem so much as it considers the possibilities of what lies between things done and undone.

so much of any year is flammable was commissioned by Mantra Percussion as part of their 3 Nights Composer Portrait Series and premiered at the Music at First Series.

Performed at Tate Hall ~ Central Piedmont Community College 6/13/16

Iktus Percussion Quartet
Chris Graham
Piero Guimaraes
Josh Perry
Stephanie Wilson

with Drew Dolan, Lowell Gerard Fuchs, and Adam Scott Neal

Paula Matthusen -- so much of any year is flammable [6 performers + electronics]

A little night (rain) music is, ostensibly, about nighttime rain (as much as music can be “about” anything) and follows in the tradition of the nocturne as it evokes a general nocturnal ambience.

However, with this piece I also wanted to capture as best I could in a traditional wind work a specific feeling that most (all?) new parents feel: timelessness. When awake with a new child throughout the night, time feels different, foreign, new, and exciting. Moments do not seem to follow each other as you are used to. The present is a beautiful, deep inhale, and the past is merely a promise of release that seems to never quite come. 

The breath in, the moment you are in, is all that there is, and it is a beautiful, dark, scary, wonderful thing filled with love, commitment, and purpose.

a little night (rain) music

"Brodmann area 22" is named after the region of the brain that is responsible for auditory processing and perception of prosody.  This is relevant to the piece in that the vocal line mimics the prosody of human speech, with the phonemic content driving the melodic contour. This piece is in a loose AB form, where the two separate musical ideas present in the A section gradually converge upon the B section. The vocal line uses the D pentatonic scale, but restacked so that the tonal center is E. The roto-toms are tuned at five equal pitches to an octave, contrasting with the more consonant vocal line. A single crotale delineates the sections of the piece.

Brodmann Area 22

l y r i c c


(hook)

sjfhjsfuhkdjhashifiueskjdna

(verse1)

Bitch wanna roast me 
Cuz I got a xbox one 
I don’t even have no games
all I play is gta
My nigga got Franklin dick
Livin in a franklin crib 
I’ma get frank lil bitch 
Why you on my frank like this 
Bitch I’m annual flossing 
VVS
Yeah I play animal crossing 
Gamecube, 3DS
I aint ever been poor 
Used to play sims 4
Put a lil wall round niggas 
Take the door off trap em in the swimmin pool 


I don’t play fortnite fuck that 
Chun li when I street Fight 
Bust back 
You aint got combos whats that 
Rock bitches on mortal kombat 
It’s tricky to rock a rhyme 
Merk bitches on ssx 
Leave bitches all bald like Seeiah 
Mic check em like test test test 
I remember my downward spiral 
Back when I was playin Spyro 
When I never went out n lied low 
Way before my lil ass went viral 

 Super smash bros 
You so ass though 
Prolly pick Kirby 
So you don’t get smashed on!

SHAKE THAT ASS HOE

(verse2)

MASTER OF MY CRAFT NEVER PLAYED MINECRAFT 
LOOK HOW MY MIND CRAFTS THINGS 
BE ON MY HALO TINGS 
LOOK AT MY SONIC RINGS 
AHOOGA DON’T PUSH ME 
I HADOUKEN 
HEAR THE “TOASTY”? 
DONKEY KONG WHEN HE DRUM ON THAT PUSSY 
I DON’T PLAY BUT I SURE AINT NO ROOKIE
STEAL A NIGGA LIKE A BANDIT, BOO 
THEN SPEND EVERY PENNY OF HIS BANDS AND LOOT 
NOW SHE THINK THAT IM THE DEVIL LIKE A BANDICOOT 
WAWAWAWAWAWA WHAT U WANNA DO? 

(hook)

jisekfhuamkuwycgihfewjknanacd

super position, for solo harp

derek douglas carter