the breath fails, reaching the screaming beneath the rubble

This piece is inspired by Vietnamese poet, Ocean Vuong’s work “Nothing” and my

experience listening to his live reading of it. The poem unfolds during a trivial, quotidian day spent shoveling snow.

This man and I, the two men, are making space by moving the snow aside–which will vanish anyway. There is so much room in a person there should be more of us in here. Time flows backward, folding the tactile layers it just spread. Inwardly, there is something–which will also vanish anyway–blossoming. The spatiotemporal boundaries fluctuate vaguely on the threshold of different “zones” in the poem. Looking through the threshold, the snow, the flakes, and the smoke all carry shifting meanings. The snow has started up again, whitening

the path as though nothing happened. But to live like a bullet, to touch people with such intention. To be born going one way, toward everything alive.

And yes, the snow will vanish anyway. Yet, the nothingness hovers, growing heavier, and heavier.

*Sentences in Italic are quotations from the poem “Nothing”.

Performers: Neue Vocalsolisten Stuttgart

Peyee Chen, soprano

Susanne Leitz-Lorey, soprano

Helena Sorokina, mezzo-soprano

Martin Nagy, tenor

Guillermo Anzorena, baritone

Andreas Fischer, bass

Recorded and mixed by Christopher Jacobs