1 - 6/7ths. of the way to the end of the world  0:00-4:35 
2 - engendering [a]round [a]n end of gender  4:50-9:11 
3 - queer chant [shadow subsong with chorus]  9:17-15:10 

I have been thinking about the end of the "world" since childhood. Since then, I have been thinking about the end of my desires, my dreams, my oddnesses - the end of beauty, the end of the body, the end of sex, the end of truth (or at least the end of the use for truth), the end of love, the end of music, the end of queerness (which is in large part about ending things). All these spaces approach endings – when one ending is reached, there is always another ending beyond it waiting. Endings can be beautiful. And aching.
 
Alternative scenarios fascinate me. Something that has been very seductive to me is imagining micro-cultures where a community that otherwise has never been allowed to thrive to flourish in the light of promise. I ponder: An eco-pessimist culture that honestly embraces the reality of full eco-collapse, also known as the end of the world, but without having lost hope entirely. A fully gender-rich, or emptied, range of countless identities. A world where valuing the truth is the most prized of currencies, or the least. An understanding that some of us possess an endless urge to control, to place everything into an order, to spin in place. A time when queerness is not quite normative (then it would be, by definition, not queer), but kind of being there "just because." And I imagine if all these "cultures" had their own folksongs. 
 
At times, it feels very hard to imagine new realities. These imagined folksongs for these existing micro-cultures have not existed until now. The songs are very easy to sing if you know the words. The words are not easy to remember. The music that goes along with the tunes and the words - well, that is the hardest part of all! 
 
In short, these are pieces conceived for cultures that I want to have folksongs. The words are mine - the prosody, the tunes, all mine. The songs are theirs, whether they want them or not. In these folksongs, the human voice and the words are rarely heard, and only emerge as if unable to be contained.
 
This piece is dedicated to the ever kind and deeply conscientious Gusty, and with deep gratitude to the highly collaborative Grossman Ensemble musicians, the marvelous and thoughtful conductor Tim Weiss, to the visionary Dr. and Mrs. Grossman, and the University of Chicago Center for Contemporary Composition and its dedicated partners and donors. Thank you for being so very kind to me (to all of us on this program, in fact) in a field where it is very easy to do things for some but not for many. Your generosity and consideration is gratefully recognized by many of us. And it matters.

A video of the premiere can be found at: https://youtu.be/1JetPck0b5Q?si=rMa7itv5a5jccdyr

The Hardest Folksongs Never Written (2023) - Grossman Ensemble, with Tim Weiss (cond.)

"Newtown Odyssey" is a fantastical opera about our relationship to our environment. We want to engage what is historically and presently apparent if one slows down, looks, and listens closely. It is both celebratory and cautionary, both serious and satirical. This on-the-water experiential performance is built to accommodate the happenstance of live performance on an industrial waterway. - Dana Spiotta, librettist

Scene 3 - The Developers: Inside the actual opera, this scene is filmed and viewed as audience members travel along the site during the performance. Heard here is this film's soundtrack. The music/sound is meant to simulate and abstract antiquated recording technologies for playback and/or amplification for the sung text (possibly Victrola players, Sony Walkman, etc.).

VIDEO OF FILM: https://youtu.be/OIxjjpT5rWA?si=bxE2g2lRhJQOOhuV

Singers:
Charlotte Mundy, Developer 1
Kyra Sims, Developer 2

TEXT
Developer 1 
(spoken/sung)
Welcome to One Creek One, site proposal #0352-A!

Developer 2
Pull over for a moment!
Hang with us, chill out
Have a micro, a nitro
a brine, a biotic 
a switchel, a shrub, 
a feral-strained, forage-forward
slightly fizzy semi-hard 
kam-bu-cha!

Developer 1
Natural yeast, grown in the creek
Local, indigenous! 
 
Developer 2					 
Bio-fermented, right from the creek
Organic, unfiltered!

Developer 1 
Unfiltered!

Developer 2
Fermented!

Developer 1
From the creek

Developer 2
From the creek

Developer 1
We have a proposal, 
Pending community rezoning

Developer 2
Pending an environmental review

Developer 1
Pending city approval

Developer 2
Pending tax incentives!

Developer 1							
Hear us out! Here us out!

Developer 1 
(spoken/sung)
Hit ‘em with the pitch deck! 

Developer 2
Luxury lofts 
Lavish views, roof decks
Reclaimed oak flooring
Basaltina stone counters
Sleek, smart 
Kohler bidets
Luxury lofts,
Lavish views, roof decks
Wall of windows gleaming
private Peloton gyms
full height
Soaking tubs

Developer 1
5000 units
All sustainable, of course	
With limited community beach
and green space 
Don’t be a NIMBY 
Rezone, rezone, 
Re-zone

5000 units
All market-rate, of course
With a public art walk
with upcycled pavers
Don’t be a NIMBY
Rezone, rezone, 
Re-zone

Developer  1 
(shout singing)										
Wait, wait
Rich people need housing too!						
							
Developer 2
We haven’t even told you about the floating, glass-bottomed 
gastro-pub!
Developer 1
Or the roof-top
Skate park!

from "Newtown Odyssey" - (scene 3) The Developers

Equal magnitude for fl, cl, perc, pn, vn and vc (2023)

Ensemble Ipse
Matt Ward, conductor
Margaret Lancaster, flute
Christa Van Alstine, clarinet
Molly Morkoski, piano
Colleen Bernstein, percussion
Esther Noh, violin
Caleb van der Swaagh, cello

Equal Magnitude (2023)

for violin and viola
James Garlick, violin
Richard O'Neill, viola

The Happiness of Two Salmon Returning Home

"Failing is something queers do and have always done exceptionally well; for queers failure can be a style... or a way of life... and it can stand in contrast to the grim scenarios of success that depend upon 'trying and trying again.' In fact, if success requires so much effort, then maybe failure is easier in the long run and offers different rewards." -Judith Halberstam, Queer Art of Failure

Premiered April 2024 at the Ann E. Pitzer Center at the University of California, Davis by Nick May as part of the I Exist Project.

jouissance, or learning to let go

From performances of some works I completed years ago: 

-Concertino for violin and small ensemble (2009/10), MM I (Moto), MM II (Sotto), and MM III (Rotto), with Axel Strauss (vln.), Matilda Hofman (cond.) and the Left Coast Chamber Ensemble

K. Rohde - Concertino for violin and small ensemble, MM III (rotto)

Dorris and Ophelia, two iconic women destined to self-destruction and death, lost their lives for nothing in the order of a solidly masculine world. This piece dramatically gives voice to Doris and Ophelia, in their new form of parallel apparitions, physically resonate their misfortune, amplify their psychology with the power of music, tells us their story of self destruction, aftermath of sadness, and question of the order we are in. I have deeply engaged with the text with musical techniques such as prosodic analysis and word painting, to create the affect behind the wonderful poem, Doris at the River (in Far District), written by Poet Ishion Hutchinson whom I have shaped my composition in collaboration with, and manifested by beautiful performance of Rachel Calloway and Xak Bjerken. [CB]

Doris at the River
by Ishion Hutchinson

There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds 
Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke -Shakespeare, Hamlet

Her melody broke through a shell
Over the town that August we found 
Her in the arms of native Ariel,
Strands of hair and leaves in her mouth.

Who knew she lived in such troubled 
Branches in the corners of daydreams, 
Singing the perfect epitaph:
All things that you possess, possess their death.

The river streaked into a brown mirror, 
The tail of her slime green dress bushed 
Fallen woods in decay as we pulled her out. 
Her hands were clasped on her chest.

This was the work of devotion, 
Not art - the silver of love cracked. 
Ants draped her eyelids, indifferent 
To the sun and us staring down.

Doris at the River: An Apparition of Ophelia

In Turkic folklore, Jinn (Cin in Turkish) are invisible and sometimes visible other than human persons with free will, superior to humans. There is not much known about them, nevertheless, they live in a parallel universe with an access to our own. They appear in grotesque forms in human interactions. This piece is about a Jinn embodiment under the midnight soundscape of the 15 July Military Coup Attempt in Ankara, in 2016.

Coup d'Etat: Cin in the Machine

“Reality is what we perceive.” This is how I read the doctrine of “esse est percipi” in Berkleian idealism. But is there really a singular universal system of perception in music? Not, at least, in Katık.
Katık literally means additive in Turkish, a sort of catalyst in a process of synthesis, which does not dissolve or merge the predominant entities into each other. As many other Turkish words, katık carries multiple simultaneous meanings within it. Kat is layer or level, and adding. Katı is solid, stiff, something that cannot be easily breakable or penetrable. Atık is disposal. But there is much more about this word. 
“Katık yap!” is a phrase that has been associated with the ordinary day life in Turkish households for so long. When there is not enough food, it means “eat with [bread],” the cheapest product that a person can buy in Turkey. It is an embodiment of the food insecurity and financial plunge of  working and middle class families, which is a situation of growing global precarity, exceeding the framework of the Turkish context. 
Besides the intertwined contextual meanings of the word and the inspiration behind Katık, this piece incorporates multiple techniques that discard the elements of conventional orchestral language. Katık includes abstractions of  complex sound relations, through Tritone paradoxes, Doppler effects, dynamic pitch cycles, inharmonic and harmonic spectral processes, combinational tones, missing fundamentals, and so on. 
The perceptive codes in Katık are subjective, and the sound world and meanings that come out of it are unrevealing. [CB]

.KAT.I.K

Diane Seuss is a poet, a thinker, a seer, a sayer - an oracle of sorts. Her collection Four-Legged Girl is a complete game changer in the way it:
-tells stories, 
-captures the way we remember, reinvent, forget, 
-manages to shock and touch and move us,
-catches us off guard and draws us only further in.

It Wasn't A Dream is a collection of six settings of Seuss's poems from her collection. It is for soprano, tenor and piano four-hands. I composed it for the Brooklyn Art Song Society in 2018. Here is the opening setting of the first third of the title poem. Thanks to soprano Charlotte Mundy, tenor Andrew Fuchs, and pianists Miori Sugiyama and Michael Brofman.

I - It Wasn't A Dream (part 1) from It Wasn't A Dream (2018)

This is from my collection of Etudes for Mixed Ensemble, which is an ongoing set a pieces for the Schubert Octet instrumentation, plus piano. 

These works try to capture what appears to be the commonly understood idea of virtuosity, and apply it to an otherwise inherently awkward musical affect; Saturation is the idea behind "A(u)nti Mazurka." 

In total, these pieces are as much studies for the ensemble as they were for me when I composed each of them. This performance is from the 2019 Composers Conference, as performed by the Conference Ensemble, conducted by James Baker.

from Etudes for Mixed Ensemble - III. A[u]nti Mazurka

This an easy way to get quick access to recent (& not-so-recent) works of mine. Contact me with any queries. REQUEST: Should you wish to play my work, I ask you include it on a program that reflect the values of belonging, and make an honest effort to be equitable, representative & fully inclusive. Thank you.

(pronounced Road-HEE or Rhod-DAH)

I - It Wasn't A Dream (part 1) from It Wasn't A Dream (2018)

Kurt Rohde

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