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Orchestra
2024
- Program Notes
- When you wake up, a warm metallic wall pressed against your head, the world will have closed in on you. Forget about writing, about reading, about concerts, theaters, work, classes, meetings, the time of day, the day of the week, the month of October, your five-year plan. You are in the doldrums now, and they give you tranquilizers to stay there. Beyond the reach of your fingers, people come and go in a din and blur. ​ When you wake up, you may brush your teeth, or peel an orange, or slip outside to the quiet walkway behind your house. There, above the garbage bins, is the largest thing. Arcas and Orion are pinned on that hazy tapestry somewhere, and they were once like you, marking the world through palpable breaths and the tiny motions of their fingers. Today is Monday or Wednesday or Saturday. It is the day before tomorrow, and when you wake up, you shall crumple the shell of another boiled egg. ​ “Is there any true transcendence, or is this idea always a consoling dream projected by human need on to an empty sky?” What else can you think about? You dream of flocks and flutes surrounding you and Farmer Oak. You dream of metempsychosis, of IMAX, of brass chorales, of oceans and galaxies and rockets escaping the Earth. You dream that tomorrow, when you wake up, this myopic radius of sensations might have been transfigured into something “remarkably clear” and immeasurably large.
- Performer Credits
- Ezra Calvino, Yale Philharmonia
- Publisher
- Yonty Press