The Sharp Edges of the Earth - Nevitt
Program Notes:
The Sharp Edges of the Earth was written for soprano Regina Stroncek, set to three poems of Hilda Doolittle. It explores themes of nature and figures of Greek mythology.
The moon, the sea, the beasts of the earth. Tumultuous and teeming with energy, yet eternal and steady in their patterns of rise and fall, ebb and flow, birth and death. What is it we seek to gain from them? To lay down arms and sit together with the moon? To absorb the vast power of the sea? To control the men and animals of the earth with a twirl of our fingers?
Perhaps what we truly envy is nature’s predictability. It is inevitable - the moon will rise, the waves will peak, the panther will strike. But can we sit and speak with each other truthfully, under the starkness of the moonlight? Can I live with the assuredness of the sea? Can any of the magic of the universe make my love stay with me forever?
We may not be able to rein in the forces of nature to gain what we truly want, but we surely have a song together. What note shall we pitch? What do you ask of the ocean when no one else is listening?
-Laura Nevitt, composer
Text:
I. Moonrise
Will you glimmer on the sea?
Will you fling your spear-head
On the shore?
What note shall we pitch?
We have a song,
On the bank we share our arrows -
The loosed string tells our note.
O flight,
Bring her swiftly to our song.
She is great,
We measure her by the pine trees.
II. Oread
Whirl up, sea -
whirl your pointed pines,
splash your great pines
on our rocks,
hurl your green over us,
cover us with your pools of fir.
III. Circe
It was easy enough
to bend them to my wish,
it was easy enough
to alter them with a touch,
but you
adrift on the great sea,
how shall I call you back?
Cedar and white ash,
rock-cedar and sand plants
and tamarisk
red cedar and white cedar
and black cedar from the inmost forest,
fragrance upon fragrance
and all of my sea-magic is for nought.
It was easy enough -
a thought called them
from the sharp edges of the earth;
they prayed for a touch,
they cried for the sight of my face,
they entreated me
till in pity
I turned each to his own self.
Panther and pather,
then a black leopard
follows close -
black panther and red
and a great hound,
a god-like beast,
cut the sand in a clear ring
and shut me from the earth,
and cover the sea-sound
with their throats,
and the sea-roar with their own barks
and bellowing and snarls,
and the sea-stars
and the swirl of the sand,
and the rock-tamarisk
and the wind resonance -
but not your voice.
It is easy enough to call men
from the edges of the earth.
It is easy enough to summon them to my feet
with a thought -
it is beautiful to see the tall panther
and the sleek deer-hounds
circle in the dark.
It is easy enough
to make cedar and white ash fumes
into palaces
and to cover the sea-caves
with ivory and onyx.
But I would give up
rock-fringes of coral
and the inmost chamber
of my island palace
and my own gifts
and the whole region
of my power and magic
for your glance.