Conductor: Harrie Starreveld
Flute: Cem Önertürk
Violin: Ellen Jewett
Cello: Gözde Yaşar
Piano: Tayfun İlhan

Klasik Keyifler 2013 - Cappadocia

A night at the park

Premiered by NAMES Ensemble at Mozarteum University of Salzburg in October 2022

https://www.names-ensemble.com

Hakkâri'de Bir Mevsim-Part I

Hakkâri'de Bir Mevsim-Part II

Hakkâri'de Bir Mevsim-Part III

Hakkâri'de Bir Mevsim-Part IV

Hakkâri'de Bir Mevsim-Part V

Hakkâri'de Bir Mevsim-Part VI

Sound installation for the statue created by Meltem Şahin. Commissioned by the Commagene Land and River Biennial. Adıyaman-Turkey, 2023.

The music is composed on an anonymous hymn written for goddess Artemis. Vocals are created with AI.

Κλύθι μου, ω βασίλεια, Διός πολυώνυμε κούρη, Τιτάνις, βρομία, μεγαλώνυμε, τοξότι, σεμνή, πασιφαής, δαδούχε, θεά Δίκτυννα, λοχείῳ, ὀδίνων ἐπάρογέ καί ὀδίνων ἀμύητε, λυσίζονε, φιλόιστρε, κυνηγέτι, λυσιμέριμνε, εὔδρομε, ἰοχέαιρα, φιλαγρότι, νυκτερόφοιτε, κλισία εύάντιτε, λυτηρία, ἀρσενόμορφε, Ὀρθίε, οκυλόχεια, βρότων κουροτρόφε δαίμον, ἀμβροτέρα, χθονία, θηροκτόνε, ολβιόμοιρε, η κατέχεις ορέων δρυμούς, ελαφιβόλε, σεμνή, πότνια, παμβασίλεια, καλόν θάλος αἰείν εοῦσα, δρυμονία, σκυλακίτι, Κυδωνίας, αἰολόμορφε:

ἔλθε, θεά σώτειρα, φίλοις μύστισιν ἅπασιν εύάντιτος, ἄγουσα καλούς καρπούς ἀπό γαίης εἰρήνην τ’ ἐρατῆν καλλιπλόκαμον θ’ υγιείαν: πέμποις δ’ εἰς ορέων κεφαλάς νούσους τε καί ἄλγη.

Hear me, queen, many-named daughter of Zeus, Titanian, resounding, illustrious, arrow-bearing, holy, visible to all, torch-bearing, Huntress goddess who ensnares, presiding at birth, assistant in childbirth and uninitiated into childbirth,
you with the undone belt, lover of madness, huntress, disperser of troubles, fast-running, arrow-shooting, lover of the hunt, you who wander at night, welcome at every door, liberator, shaped like a man, upright, you who hasten childbirth, divine nurse to mortal children, immortal, Chthonian, killer of wild beasts, good-fortuned, you rule the mountain forests, tracker of stags, holy, sovereign, Queen of all, forever possessing beautiful youth, wood dwelling, protectress of dogs, Kynodian, ever-changing:

Come, savior Goddess, welcoming friend to all initiates. To bring us the beautiful fruits of the earth and pleasant peace and beautiful-haired health and may you send to the summits of the mountains sickness and suffering

Potnia Theron

commissioned and performed by Hezarfen Ensemble in Bilkent Concert Hall/Ankara as a part of British Council's "Word and Sound" concerts and Bilkent New Music Days 2015.

Flute: Cem Önertürk
Piano: Müge Hendekli
Percussion: Amy Salsgiver

http://www.hezarfenensemble.com

The Cubical Domes(after D.Gascoyne)

Mezzo Soprano: Tuğçe Oğuzülgen
Piyano: Hazal Evruk

Durakta üç kişi
Adam, kadın, çocuk

Adamın elleri ceplerinde,
Kadın çocuğun elini tutmuş.

Adam hüzünlü,
Hüzünlü şarkılar gibi hüzünlü

Kadın güzel,
Güzel anılar gibi güzel

Çocuk,
Güzel anılar gibi hüzünlü,
Hüzünlü şarkılar gibi güzel.

C.Süreya

Three Songs For Mezzo Soprano And Piano, III

Aleksandra Raszyńska, soprano
Kati Lehismets, piano


Bitti,
Her şey birden durdu 
Oldu, olamadı
ve bir yangın sönemedi.

Kimdir? Bilemedi, 
Bulamadı. 
Aynaya bakamadan, 
Gitti.

Yarınlar, hevesler, kursaklar, 
Tutsaklar, yüksekler, alçaklar. 
Koca bir baş dönmesi,
ve yenmiş tırnaklar.

Tüm görgülü ve saygılı insanlar, 
“Toplanın! Burada ölü bir adam...” 
“Ya da boşverin”.

Burada bir ada, 
Yağmursuz, güneşsiz 
Sevmeyeceksiniz. 

Ölü bir adam, gri bir ada,
Bilmeyeceksiniz.

Mert Kocadayı



A MAN OR AN ISLE

It’s ended, Everything has suddenly stopped.
It could happen, it could not,
a fire could not been burned out.

Who is he?
He could not know,
He could not find. 
Without looking at the mirror, 
He is gone.

Tomorrows, urges, crops, 
Captives, highs, lows. 
A huge vertigo,
and biten nails.

All well-mannered and respected people, 
“Gather! There is a dead man...” 
“Nevermind”.

Here there is an isle, 
Rainless, sunless 
You will not like it. 
A dead man, a grey isle,
You will not know it.

Bir Adam ya da Bir Ada / A Man or an Isle

Flute: Katrin Szamatulski
Cello: Lorena Dorizzi
Piano: Anda Kryeziu

The Verb to be

I know the general outline of despair. Despair has no wings, it doesn’t necessarily sit at a cleared table in the evening on a terrace by the sea. It’s despair and not the return of a quantity of insignificant facts like seeds that leave one furrow for another at nightfall. It’s not the moss that forms on a rock or the foam that rocks in a glass. It’s a boat riddled with snow, if you will, like birds that fall and their blood doesn’t have the slightest thickness. I know the general outline of despair. A very small shape, defined by jewels worn in the hair. That’s despair. A pearl necklace for which no clasp can be found and whose existence can’t even hang by a thread. That’s despair for you. Let’s not go into the rest. Once we begin to despair we don’t stop. I myself despair of the lampshade around four o’clock, I despair of the fan towards midnight, I despair of the cigarette smoked by men on death row. I know the general outline of despair. Despair has no heart, my hand always touches breathless despair, the despair whose mirrors never tell us if it’s dead. I live on that despair which enchants me. I love that blue fly which hovers in the sky at the hour when the stars hum. I know the general outline of the despair with long slender surprises, the despair of pride, the despair of anger. I get up every day like everyone else and I stretch my arms against a floral wallpaper. I don’t remember anything and it’s always in despair that I discover the beautiful uprooted trees of night. The air in the room is as beautiful as drumsticks. What weathery weather. I know the general outline of despair. It’s like the curtain’s wind that holds out a helping hand. Can you imagine such a despair? Fire! Ah they’re on their way … Help! Here they come falling down the stairs … And the ads in the newspaper, and the illuminated signs along the canal. Sandpile, beat it, you dirty sandpile! In its general outline despair has no importance. It’s a squad of trees that will eventually make a forest, it’s a squad of stars that will eventually make one less day, it’s a squad of one­-less-­days that will eventually make up my life.

Mert Kocadayi

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