| - HOME - | -News- | - About Us - | - Concert - | - Other Events - | - Join / Support - | -Music- |
| -Find- | - Directions - | - Photos - | - History - | - Members - | - Links - | -Print- |
 With Love from Us To You
|
Feburary 14, 2003 | First United Church of Christ, New Cumberland
March 27, 2004 | Lancaster Theological Seminary
(also presented March 7 as part of the Beech Tree Series at York Unitarian Universalist Church)
Dan Krynak, Artistic Director | Anthony Haubert, Guest Accompanist | Renee Bartholomew, Percussionist
By Holly Near, arranged by J. David Moore for MUSE
Trio: Jan D., Joanne N., Suzanne N.
Words & music Phil Spector, Ellie Greenwich & Jeff Barry, arr. Roger Emerson
Music by Ruth Elaine Schram, text adapted from Robert Burns
Ysaye Maria Barnwell, on text by Kahlil Gibran
Ysaye Maria Barnwell
Music by Dave and Jean Perry
On a poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Music and text by Nathan Christensen
On the poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
By Atahualpa Yupanqui, arranged by Emile Solé
Soloist Cathy N.
In this lullaby by one of the most popular Latinoarmerican composers of the mid-20th century, sung in the dialect of the black slave culture, the infant is given impossible promises and warned of dire consequences (including a reference to the brutal practice of cutting off a person’s foot to prevent escape).
“Sleep, sleep dear little black one, your mama’s in the fields, little one.
Sleep, sleep little one.
She’s going to bring quail for you, she’s going to bring fresh fruit for you,
she’s going to bring pork for you, she’s going to bring many things for you.
and if the little black one doesn’t go to sleep, the white devil will come and zap!
he’ll eat your little foot, chica bu; hurry, chica bu.
Sleep, sleep dear little black one,
your mama’s in the fields, little one. She’s working hard, working, yes,
working and they don’t pay her, working, yes,working and she’s coughing, working, yes, for her sweet little black one, for her little one, yes.”
Traditional Serbian (Yugoslavian) Gypsy dance, arranged by Nick Page
Directed by Giesala C.
Ensemble: Jan D., Virginia DeC., Donna G., Kim H., Joanne N., Suzanne N., Amy S., Beth S., Lucy T.
“Let’s go to the baths and kiss, kiss, kiss!”
To Central Europeans this 9/8 rhythm of 2+2+2+3 is as natural as a 4/4 rock beat is in North America.
Music by Roger Bourland, poetry by Francisco X. Alarcon
Commissioned by Vox Femina Los Angeles
I Want to Stop Being an Endless Night
“I want to stop being an endless night, a discarded book no one reads,
an umbrella left in the closet opened only on rainy days.
I’m so smeared with this fate, gray and silent as a bolted door,
that loneliness like shadowy ink has bruised my lips.
With one yank I want to snap it, this noose around my neck,
race out the door to meet you at the docks where they’ve announced your arrival.
To you I confess all I want is to stop being night.”
Wind
“I want to embrace you, dear wind,
Stroke your summer neck and kiss your smooth face till all distances disappear.
The hills, vineyards, the sea are borne lightly on your shoulders,
like dawn’s youthful pleasure, you can turn night into day.
Wind, I aspire to your freedom,
to see mountaintops with your eyes, that blaze that rouses streets and beds.
Don’t you see my shimmering hands? Don’t you feel the heat inside me?
I, too, within my veins, carry fire.”
Both Page and Pen
“Your eyes show my how to see again like mirrors of water, understanding all,
there’s no mystery they can’t solve. A single glance is more than enough.
Your eyes see, listen, touch, speak,
are beacons on the horizon shedding light on shades of life
beyond the reach of words.
So I start to read your body, pausing at every mole,
as if they were commas, as if they were periods.
I love to scribble on your chest, use the muscles on your back as lines.
You and I are both page and pen.”
Matriarch
“My dark grandmother would brush her long hair
seated out on her patio.
Even ferns would bow to her splendor and her power.”
Another Language
“Beneath this language there’s another,
more ancient, more agile, elusive as an alley cat,
cozy as the lemon tea my grandma made on rainy days,
free as a big smile on a bus.
Lovers speechless whisper it, children teach it to their dogs,
the dead come back to utter it,
language that isn’t given but slapped out like a newborn’s first cry,
air that is revived in the lungs, song and sob,
grimace and sign, a wedge prying open our mouths.”
Eric Helmuth
Claude Debussy, arranged by Linda Steen Spevacek
“When, ’neath the setting sun, glows a river in evening,
and the warm summer wind blows out across the field
Then from all things a thought arises to be happy,
and it counsels the troubled heart.
And it tells us we should enjoy the gift of living while we’re young
and the sun is setting in full bloom.
For we shall go away, like water that is flowing. It to the sea, we to the tomb.”
Music by Morton Lauridsen
On a poem (Les Roses) by Rainer Maria Rilke
“Abandon surrounding abandon, tenderness touching tenderness...
Your oneness endlessly caresses itself, so they say;
self-caressing through its own clear reflection.
Thus you invent the theme of Narcissus fulfilled.”
Folk song adapted by Luigi Zaninelli
Music by Quincy Jones and Rod Temperton
Words by Jones, Temperton and Lionel Richie
Arranged by J. David Moore
from “The Color Purple”
Cathy N., "trumpet"
John David, arranged by Philip Lawson
By Pat Ballard, arranged by Ed Lojeski
Lew Brown and Carl Schraubstader, arranged by David Hall
Special thanks to Shoes for the reprise of her show-stopping performance
By Connie Kaldor, arranged by Willi Zwozdesky
Soloists: Laura D. (Harrisburg), Kim H. (Lancaster)
Email Links:
Report problems with this site
Request info