Premiered by Ruoyang Xiang at Indiana University Jacobs School of Music Auer Hall 3/23/2023

Program notes: 
“If having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans”.  
-James Harriot  
To all creatures great and small,  May you always stay the ways you are…

To All Creatures Great And Small - for piano (2023)

Premiered at Indiana University Jacobs School of Music Auer Hall 4/17/2023

Program notes:
Wars are remembered by the banks of two rivers,
by the ocean waves that swallow the metallic taste of swords and daggers, by the snow-cloaked prairies pockmarked with the hooves of cavalry
as the mountains weep above.
去年战，桑乾源，今年战，葱河道
洗兵条支海上波，放马天山雪中草

Each weary mile of the soldiers’ march only brings them closer to their final beds. The Huns till the yellow soil with corpses, growing desolation.
On the Qin’s fortress walls, the beacons burn an endless red,
never resting until the bloodshed ends.
万里长征战，三军尽衰老
匈奴以杀戮为耕作，古来唯见白骨黄沙田
秦家筑城避胡处，汉家还有烽火然
烽火燃不息，征战无已时

Soldiers fall in barren fields, never to rise again,
their last cries drowned by the screams of their horses. Their bodies are looted by crows, who take the intestines as their war spoils.
野战格斗死，败马号鸣向天悲
乌鸢啄人肠，衔飞上挂枯树枝

The generals gain nothing but this portrait of battle, of wild grass painted with blood.
They say soldiers are weapons,
The Saint has no choice but to use them. 
士卒涂草莽，将军空尔为
乃知兵者是凶器，圣人不得已而用之

- Original Poem by Li Bai 李白, English Translation by Chelsey Zhu

Zhan Cheng Nan 战城南 - for wind quintet, percussion and tenor (2023)

Barbora Kolářová, violin
Jordan Bak, viola
Mia Barcia-Colombo, cello
Charles Paul, bass

Commissioned by the Lake George Music Festival
made possible by the New York State Council on the Arts


Program Note:

The initial impetus for …enfumée was Georgia O’Keeffe’s Blue II, an early work from a series of abstract and monochromatic explorations in 1916. When setting out to write this piece I initially chose to engage with O’Keeffe’s work because of her close connection with Lake George. While browsing a featured exhibit of her work at MoMA, I was immediately struck by the deep saturation and subtle shading of the color in this particular painting, the powerful movement portrayed in the crumpled yet expansive swirl of blue –  like someone making a fist of smoke. This image resonated particularly strongly at the time, as we were in the midst of New York’s first encounter with the hazardous smoke from the Canadian wildfires which was engulfing the city and surrounding regions of the country. In that moment I decided not to write a work that was necessarily in direct response to O’Keeffe’s painting, but rather to allow my connection and inspiration in that moment to refocus the piece as an outlet for my experience with that recent and present change in our environment. I began to see vivid imagery of the swirls of smoke, the flow of the air patterns, the gradually shifting colors of haze. I was mesmerized by air flow maps I found on various air quality tracking apps, the constantly shifting color patterns, all the while living through my own waves of paralyzing anxiety, an almost PTSD-like response to being told to be afraid of the air we breathe, yet again. It was ironic that after such a long period of time with Covid, growing accustomed to masking indoors but finding relief and safety in the free-flowing air outside, we were now being told to stay locked indoors and mask up if we ventured out. 

I composed …enfumée while in residence at Copland House, an idyllic retreat in Cortlandt, NY. Aaron Copland’s house is situated in a wonderfully isolated natural setting, a perfect space to engage with this subject matter, to escape from the city and breathe the fresh air. In the middle of my residency another wave of smoke set in, creating an opportunity for me to re-engage directly with the experience in the middle of the composition itself. I remember the first afternoon of the smoke’s return, driving on a bridge across the Croton Reservoir and almost stopping my car in the middle of the road as a I was struck by the imagery looking out into the hills beyond the water: it looked exactly like O’Keeffe’s paintings of Lake George, the haze from the smoke recreating her shading, her brushstrokes. The title …enfumée is also a reference to the work …à la Fumée, an homage to the composer Kaija Saariaho who passed away in June and whose music I have held in my mind and heart as I worked on this piece.

...enfumée (2023)

Reading Session at 2023 Brevard Summer Festival by Brevard Sinfonia on July 31st, 2023
Composed by Yeeun Sim

A Song of the Wind for orchestra (2023)

3° (삼도/Sahm-doh) for Orchestra
Composed by Hansol Choi
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Written for and conducted by Yeo Ryeong Ahn 
Performed by University of Michigan School of Music's University Symphony Orchestra, directed by Kenneth Kiesler
.
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Hill Auditorium, Ann Arbor
December 5th, 2023
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All rights reserved by Hansol Choi 2023

3°(삼도/Sahm-doh) for Orchestra

Performed by TAK Ensemble 

Laura Cocks, flute
Madison Greenstone, bass clarinet
Charlotte Mundy, voice
Marina Kifferstein, violin
Ellery Trafford, percussion

Audio by David Bird

Performed and recorded at the Reva and David Logan Center for the Arts in Chicago, IL

Cover art by Simon Miller


Program Note:

Alex and I met in the summer of 2016 during a week-long voice intensive at Oberlin Conservatory. We were both bright-eyed high school-aged singers in training, and became fast friends.  I was delighted to discover an incredibly kind person with whom to share a mutual love of art song, crunchy-chorded choral music, and every node on the spectrum from the most absurdly silly to the most heartrendingly poignant musical theatre. More so, however, I was immediately struck, fascinated, and touched by Alex’s command of language. The most initially obvious symptom of this prowess was their piquant, unnaturally rapid wit, which induced many diaphragmatically compromising belly-laughs that added a welcome layer of difficulty to the week’s proceedings. Most moving, however, was their directness of expression. In the moments that matter most, they’re able to wield words in a way that cuts right to the pith of what is meant and catch you by surprise. These moments can invite vulnerability, change your lens, and even break your heart (in the best way, of course). 

It’s the presence of this very directness that drew me to their beautiful collection of poems “The Stars We Named Together”, after which this song cycle is titled. Espinosa’s poetry serves as a time capsule of sorts; a period of freewheeling love, anxiety, discovery, and fixation frozen in amber. While it’s impossible for me to represent every aspect of the rich world of meaning in this collection, the four poems culled here are my attempt to refract these words through my own experience of loving and being loved through chronic and severe anxiety and depression. To quote one pithy Alex-ism: “It doesn’t have to be real, it just has to be true.” I hope this piece allows you to feel some aspect of your truth represented as Alex’s poems have done for me. 

I would like to express my immense gratitude to TAK Ensemble for their singular artistry, generosity, patience, thoughtfulness, and altogether stellar vibes, as well as to Kari Watson for being at the helm of this incredibly gratifying project. 



Text by Alex Espinosa from their collection "The Stars We Named Together" (2017-2020):

I. Weekday Conversation

Hey you.
How was your day?
Oh my god, I can't believe you.
She is a very nice lady.
My day was pretty good too, by the way.
Yes, so I've heard.
I did shower today, so that was nice. I had the best pizza today.
Of course.
Y'know, you could also do that.
Of course I will.
Yeah, give me just a sec.
Let's go!




II. mi flor de la luna

all of the stars
we named on the beach
are shining in your hair
tonight
my flower of the moon
bloom in my arms
let me kiss the moonlight of your skin
taste all your heavenly bodies
let me write love
with my hands eyes tongue
bring me to god




III. So Cold

My fingertips are chilly, can you feel how
(the weight of all this bullshit on my shoulders is so)
frosty they are? It's winter, it's
(heavy with snow, with love, with hate, l'm)
so cold.
(so cold).




IV. stray thoughts iv (dead spaces)

So we're here
again, here, now
in this small room
with its tiny dead spaces and
I don’t know
how to fill them.
I don’t know how to fill them anymore

The Stars We Named Together (2024): for high voice, flute, bass clarinet, violin, and percussion

Performed by Ensemble Dal Niente in RED NOTE New Music Workshop 2024

March 26, 2024
Illinois State University Kemp Recital Hall

Andrew Nogal, Oboe
Ammie Brod, Viola
Ben Melsky, Harp

[Program Notes]
Writing this piece, I've explored my own heterotopia—it could be my hometown, school, room, or park. These places hold specific meanings intertwined with memories, transforming into spaces that exist as both real and alternative realities. Coined by French philosopher Michel Foucault, the term ‘heterotopia’ suggests ‘worlds within worlds,’ merging time and space within a single location, mirroring and challenging external realities. Despite its introduction in Foucault's essay Of Other Spaces: Utopias and Heterotopias, the concept's precise definition remains elusive.

Heterotopia for Oboe, Viola and Harp (2024)

Written for Bell Sounds, A Carillon New Music Concert at the University of Chicago, May 2024

John Mori, Carillon

Audio by Chris Willi

Sleep Whispers (after Philip Glass) (2024): for carillon

Performed by Ensemble PHACE in Vienna Contemporary Composers Festival 2024

June 23, 2024
Lorelay Saal

[Program Notes]
“Connexion” illustrates the journey from physical intimacy to emotional bonding. In literature and film, the act of lovemaking often symbolizes the creation of deep relationships. Through this intimate act, individuals forge profound bonds where trust, affection, and understanding flourish. This shared physical language weaves hearts and souls into a tapestry of love, illustrating the powerful connection between physical and emotional intimacy. The term ‘connexion’ is a spelling variant of ‘connection’ which was historically used in England.

Connexion for Alto flute, Bass clarinet, Tenor saxophone and Trombone (2024)

a dance is a kind of wish (2023) was commissioned by the University of Nevada, Reno for the faculty of the School of Music in honor of the University’s 150th anniversary. It is dedicated, with admiration and gratitude, to Dmitri, Aaron, Joshua, Eric, Natalie, Hyeyeon, Andy, and Reed.

Performed February 2023 by the faculty of University of Nevada
Dmitri Atapine, cello
Aaron Hill, oboe
Joshua Anderon, clarinet
Eric Fassbender, bassoon
Natalie Higgins, horn
Hyeyeon Park, piano
Andrew Heglund, percussion
Reed Chamberlin, conductor

Image: The Three Dancers (1925) by Pablo Picasso

a dance is a kind of wish (2023) for cello and chamber ensemble

Rondeau, Ostinato, and Fantasia (2018)
for piano/harpsichord, percussion, clarinet, saxophone, violin, and cello.

Commissioned by the Barlow Endowment for Music Composition

Premiere:
April 9, 2019, Taplin Auditorium, Princeton, NJ
Latitude 49
Jani Parsons, keyboard
Chris Sies, percussion
Andy Hudson, clarinet
Andy Hall, sax
Tim Steeves, violin
Max Geissler, cello
Recording:
Live Recording of the Premiere
Recording engineer: Andres Villalta

A Song of the Wind for orchestra (2023)

Yeeun Sim

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