Official site of composer Andrea Clearfield. Biography, list of works with audio, score samples, reviews and program notes, photographs, upcoming performances.
Scored for: tenor and baritone soloists (may be members of the choir), TTBB, brass ensemble (4 horns, 4 trumpets in Bb, 3 trombones (2 tenor, 1 bass), tuba), 2 percussion, harp, organ Text: Robert Espindola Language: primarily English with some Spanish and Hebrew Duration: 40 min. Premiere: May 3, 2009, Meyerson Symphony Center, The Turtle Creek Chorale and Dallas Winds Commissioned by: The Turtle Creek Chorale, Jonathan Palant, music director Published by: Self-published, Angelfire Press
Contact Andrea Clearfield for score and parts:
Our Better Angels premiere with the Turtle Creek Chorale and the Dallas Winds. Photo by Michael McGary.
“Andrea Clearfield has an uncanny way of capturing the very deepest essence of the texts she sets. OUR BETTER ANGELS is a wonderful example of pairing intense, rich poetry with passionate, fiery music. Singers attach themselves to the words and melodies quickly, and are able to provide nuance early on in the preparation. The complex rhythmic intensity in the orchestration helped make our performances thrilling for singer and audience member alike.”
- Jonathan Palant, Artistic Director, Turtle Creek Chorale
PROGRAM NOTES
We, who would heal the world, must first-ourselves be healed,
yielding to a greater love, the human heart reveals. . .
calling to our better angels
to restore our dignity!
–Robert Espindola
(Extract from the concert program)
Andrea with Jonthan Palante, Artistic Director of Turtle Creek Chorale
Composer Andrea Clearfield collaborated with poet Robert Espindola to produce Our Better Angels. Work began more than a year ago and Ds. Clearfield and Rev. Espindola both established dialogue with Dr. Palant and with the chorus as a whole while developing the themes for this work. We are grateful for the generous support from the Morton H. Meyerson Tzedakah Fund which has made the commissioning and the premiere of this work possible.
Our Better Angels is a song cycle constructed of six movements, bracketed by a prologue and an epilogue. Each movement evokes the experience of different communities within the diverse society of the United States of America. The rending impact of the deportation of illegal immigrants is described in My Niñera. The lingering ghosts of lynchings haunts The Killing Trees. The harsh brutality of forced internment experienced by Chinese immigrants and Americans of Japanese ancestry is related in China Camp. Hostility toward and misunderstanding of Americans of Islamic faith is recounted in Of Many Names. A plea for acceptance of LGBT people is voiced in Simply Love Them. Courage in the face of destructive violence, and the enduring resilience of people of Jewish faith is the theme of Amidst The Ashes. The epilogue, Redemption, concludes with a call upon “our better angels,” and the healing that comes with acceptance.
Naturally, even a work of this scope cannot hope to express the experience or history of every race or creed or ethnicity or nationality or distinct group that has contributed to the making of American society over the past three centuries. But the aim of Our Better Angels is to tell its tale for all peoples and all groups who have been subjected to the violence of discrimination and the pain of exclusion. We hope that by remembering an often difficult and inglorious past, we may all be moved to work toward a future where the better angels of our nature triumph.
– Jonathan Palant
LISTEN
MOVEMENTS (may be performed independently)
OUR BETTER ANGELES
PROLOGUE
I. MY NINERA
II. THE KILLING TREES
III. CHINA CAMP
IV. OF MANY NAMES
V. SIMPLY LOVE THEM
VI. AMIDST THE ASHES
VII. REDEMPTION
Prologue
We, who would heal the world,
must first–ourselves be healed,
yielding to a greater love,
the human heart reveals. . .
in the better angels of our nature,
the past somehow concealed.
We, who would heal the world,
must be seekers of justice and peace,
bringing forth redemption
for our lost humanity. . .
calling to our better angels
to restore our dignity!
I. My Niñera
The rain was pounding on the window pane,
the night they came–it haunts me still!
What heart or mind of man,
could take away the hands, that once cradled me?
It was her voice that I’d hear when I’d wake.
Her lullabies before I’d sleep.
In every memory, that childhood keeps for me,
she is there.
My Niñera
Somehow, a fence now–stretches far and wide
between the journeys of our lives.
Though I no longer am a child,
beyond the years, across the miles–I see her smile.
My Niñera.
What fence is broad enough–or high,
to surround the boundaries of a heart?
What defines a family,
or decides–who can or cannot be
in our lives?
At night before I put my son to sleep,
I sing the lullaby, she sang to me. . .
*Que Dios vele por ti, y mantiene su tiernamente,
en su cuidado. Dormir, dormir, Bebe’
*May God watch over thee, and keep you tenderly,
in his care. Sleep. . .baby sleep.
II. The Killing Trees
On a tree beyond my reaching
sits a bird with broken wing.
The injured prey of childhood play,
no longer can he sing.
Yet loudly speaks his silence, so near to death he clings.
“Is there no one–who will come. . .to mend my broken wing?”
On a tree beyond my memory
hangs a young man helplessly.
A silhouette of cruelty. . .
the stinging face of bigotry.
Loudly speaks his silence, as breathlessly he swings.
“Is there no one–who will come. . .to mend my broken wing?”
There are no trees beyond our reaching!
No wings that we won’t mend!
When every live is valued, for the goodness found in them.
Across the years of ignorance, love’s healing hand can reach,
to uproot the seeds of indignity. . .
that once grew the killing trees.
III. China Camp
Soft,
falls the moonlight,
on my mother’s face as she lies sleeping.
Keeping her arms, around me tightly
as fear is deepening.
Afraid–not knowing what awaits,
when morning breaks, captured in a place,
from where there’s no escape!
Stark,
loom the buildings,
sentinels of brick to restrict our lives.
Kept and encamped. . .
and judged by the contours of our eyes.
While brothers and sisters overseas,
were defending liberty,
for a country we believed–stood for dignity!
Now,
fades the moonlight,
upon that time of blind obsession. . .
When ripped from our homes,
and stripped of pride and all possessions.
Oppression,
fueled by fear–inflamed by hate,
will no longer denigrate, any life or any race.
Joyously, we will celebrate. . .
the contours of all eyes!
IV. Of Many Names
Turn back your eyes from them!
Disdain–and condemn them when,
they pass by your doorsteps or drift through your lives.
Kindle your children’s minds,
with malice and vicious lies.
Teach them to despise. . .those whose faces are veiled!
For the children of Islam’s house, shall never be denounced
by the one who created them, the god of many names.
Keep your daughters far away!
Forbid–your sons to play,
with those, who you loathe. . .for the clothes that they wear!
Fill them with disturbing thoughts,
toward those who seem oddly taught. . .
to worship and pray!
For the children of Muslim faith, shall never be displaced
by the one who created them, the god of many names.
But know that the day will come,
when all you have said and done,
may cost you the very ones. . .you nurtured in fear!
For the children the future brings, shall honor the lives and dreams,
of all–who are created, by the god of many names!
V. Simply Love Them
Far from me
he has journeyed,
a lifetime now it seems.
His hopes and dreams not of my choosing. . .
against all I believed.
I chose to close the door behind us
refusing my child’s plea to
. . .simply love him.
. . .simply love him
Far from me
she has journeyed,
I cannot count the years.
Only tears now trace the distance
and the moments that disappeared. . .
since she was here, filled with fear. . .
wounded and waiting for me to
. . .simply love her.
. . .simply love her,
Far from us
no son should journey
no daughter slip away–
ashamed of who they choose to love
or how their hearts are made.
Unafraid. . .what the world may say
let us bring all children home–and
. . .simply love them
. . .simply love them
Far from you,
they need not journey,
into some distant night.
. . .simply love them.
VI. Amidst The Ashes
He stood amidst the ashes,
in tears of disbelief.
Yet on his face there was a smile
as he whispered these words to me. . .
They may destroy our temples
as a testament to their hate.
But they. . .can not defile our God,
or desecrate our faith.
Standing there beside him
in the wreckage and debris,
he softly raised his voice in praise,
the prayer of our people’s peace. . .
Baruch atah Adonoi.
Elohaynu, melach hoalam.
Shehecheyanu, vekiyemanu, vehigiyanu
Lazman Hazeh. Amen*
We stood amidst the ashes,
a rabbi with his son.
Finally, I understood
the journey once begun. .
by the wandering ones of Yisrael
for centuries disowned.
Who embraced their faith
with courage and strength. . .
claiming each other as home.
*Blessed are you, Lord our God
ruler of the universe, for giving us life,
for sustaining us, and for enabling us to reach this day.
Redemption
If we touch. . .
the pain of a wounded soul,
…we must seek redemption!
If we know. . .
the fear of captivity,
…we must seek redemption!
We, who would heal the world,
must be keepers of wisdom and light!
Calling forth our better angels,
to bring redemption to all of life!
Our Better Angels
Scored for: tenor and baritone soloists (may be members of the choir), TTBB, brass ensemble (4 horns, 4 trumpets in Bb, 3 trombones (2 tenor, 1 bass), tuba), 2 percussion, harp, organ
Text: Robert Espindola
Language: primarily English with some Spanish and Hebrew
Duration: 40 min.
Premiere: May 3, 2009, Meyerson Symphony Center, The Turtle Creek Chorale and Dallas Winds
Commissioned by: The Turtle Creek Chorale, Jonathan Palant, music director
Published by: Self-published, Angelfire Press
Contact Andrea Clearfield for score and parts:
See preview score pages: OUR BETTER ANGELS CHORAL SCORE EXCERPT (PDF)
OUR BETTER ANGELS FULL SCORE EXCERPT (PDF)
QUOTE
Our Better Angels premiere with the Turtle Creek Chorale and the Dallas Winds. Photo by Michael McGary.
“Andrea Clearfield has an uncanny way of capturing the very deepest essence of the texts she sets. OUR BETTER ANGELS is a wonderful example of pairing intense, rich poetry with passionate, fiery music. Singers attach themselves to the words and melodies quickly, and are able to provide nuance early on in the preparation. The complex rhythmic intensity in the orchestration helped make our performances thrilling for singer and audience member alike.”
- Jonathan Palant, Artistic Director, Turtle Creek Chorale
PROGRAM NOTES
We, who would heal the world, must first-ourselves be healed,
yielding to a greater love, the human heart reveals. . .
calling to our better angels
to restore our dignity!
–Robert Espindola
(Extract from the concert program)
Andrea with Jonthan Palante, Artistic Director of Turtle Creek Chorale
Composer Andrea Clearfield collaborated with poet Robert Espindola to produce Our Better Angels. Work began more than a year ago and Ds. Clearfield and Rev. Espindola both established dialogue with Dr. Palant and with the chorus as a whole while developing the themes for this work. We are grateful for the generous support from the Morton H. Meyerson Tzedakah Fund which has made the commissioning and the premiere of this work possible.
Our Better Angels is a song cycle constructed of six movements, bracketed by a prologue and an epilogue. Each movement evokes the experience of different communities within the diverse society of the United States of America. The rending impact of the deportation of illegal immigrants is described in My Niñera. The lingering ghosts of lynchings haunts The Killing Trees. The harsh brutality of forced internment experienced by Chinese immigrants and Americans of Japanese ancestry is related in China Camp. Hostility toward and misunderstanding of Americans of Islamic faith is recounted in Of Many Names. A plea for acceptance of LGBT people is voiced in Simply Love Them. Courage in the face of destructive violence, and the enduring resilience of people of Jewish faith is the theme of Amidst The Ashes. The epilogue, Redemption, concludes with a call upon “our better angels,” and the healing that comes with acceptance.
Naturally, even a work of this scope cannot hope to express the experience or history of every race or creed or ethnicity or nationality or distinct group that has contributed to the making of American society over the past three centuries. But the aim of Our Better Angels is to tell its tale for all peoples and all groups who have been subjected to the violence of discrimination and the pain of exclusion. We hope that by remembering an often difficult and inglorious past, we may all be moved to work toward a future where the better angels of our nature triumph.
– Jonathan Palant
LISTEN
MOVEMENTS (may be performed independently)
OUR BETTER ANGELES
PROLOGUE
I. MY NINERA
II. THE KILLING TREES
III. CHINA CAMP
IV. OF MANY NAMES
V. SIMPLY LOVE THEM
VI. AMIDST THE ASHES
VII. REDEMPTION
TEXT
Our Better Angels
Text by Robert S. Espindola ©2008
Prologue
We, who would heal the world,
must first–ourselves be healed,
yielding to a greater love,
the human heart reveals. . .
in the better angels of our nature,
the past somehow concealed.
We, who would heal the world,
must be seekers of justice and peace,
bringing forth redemption
for our lost humanity. . .
calling to our better angels
to restore our dignity!
I. My Niñera
The rain was pounding on the window pane,
the night they came–it haunts me still!
What heart or mind of man,
could take away the hands, that once cradled me?
It was her voice that I’d hear when I’d wake.
Her lullabies before I’d sleep.
In every memory, that childhood keeps for me,
she is there.
My Niñera
Somehow, a fence now–stretches far and wide
between the journeys of our lives.
Though I no longer am a child,
beyond the years, across the miles–I see her smile.
My Niñera.
What fence is broad enough–or high,
to surround the boundaries of a heart?
What defines a family,
or decides–who can or cannot be
in our lives?
At night before I put my son to sleep,
I sing the lullaby, she sang to me. . .
*Que Dios vele por ti, y mantiene su tiernamente,
en su cuidado. Dormir, dormir, Bebe’
*May God watch over thee, and keep you tenderly,
in his care. Sleep. . .baby sleep.
II. The Killing Trees
On a tree beyond my reaching
sits a bird with broken wing.
The injured prey of childhood play,
no longer can he sing.
Yet loudly speaks his silence, so near to death he clings.
“Is there no one–who will come. . .to mend my broken wing?”
On a tree beyond my memory
hangs a young man helplessly.
A silhouette of cruelty. . .
the stinging face of bigotry.
Loudly speaks his silence, as breathlessly he swings.
“Is there no one–who will come. . .to mend my broken wing?”
There are no trees beyond our reaching!
No wings that we won’t mend!
When every live is valued, for the goodness found in them.
Across the years of ignorance, love’s healing hand can reach,
to uproot the seeds of indignity. . .
that once grew the killing trees.
III. China Camp
Soft,
falls the moonlight,
on my mother’s face as she lies sleeping.
Keeping her arms, around me tightly
as fear is deepening.
Afraid–not knowing what awaits,
when morning breaks, captured in a place,
from where there’s no escape!
Stark,
loom the buildings,
sentinels of brick to restrict our lives.
Kept and encamped. . .
and judged by the contours of our eyes.
While brothers and sisters overseas,
were defending liberty,
for a country we believed–stood for dignity!
Now,
fades the moonlight,
upon that time of blind obsession. . .
When ripped from our homes,
and stripped of pride and all possessions.
Oppression,
fueled by fear–inflamed by hate,
will no longer denigrate, any life or any race.
Joyously, we will celebrate. . .
the contours of all eyes!
IV. Of Many Names
Turn back your eyes from them!
Disdain–and condemn them when,
they pass by your doorsteps or drift through your lives.
Kindle your children’s minds,
with malice and vicious lies.
Teach them to despise. . .those whose faces are veiled!
For the children of Islam’s house, shall never be denounced
by the one who created them, the god of many names.
Keep your daughters far away!
Forbid–your sons to play,
with those, who you loathe. . .for the clothes that they wear!
Fill them with disturbing thoughts,
toward those who seem oddly taught. . .
to worship and pray!
For the children of Muslim faith, shall never be displaced
by the one who created them, the god of many names.
But know that the day will come,
when all you have said and done,
may cost you the very ones. . .you nurtured in fear!
For the children the future brings, shall honor the lives and dreams,
of all–who are created, by the god of many names!
V. Simply Love Them
Far from me
he has journeyed,
a lifetime now it seems.
His hopes and dreams not of my choosing. . .
against all I believed.
I chose to close the door behind us
refusing my child’s plea to
. . .simply love him.
. . .simply love him
Far from me
she has journeyed,
I cannot count the years.
Only tears now trace the distance
and the moments that disappeared. . .
since she was here, filled with fear. . .
wounded and waiting for me to
. . .simply love her.
. . .simply love her,
Far from us
no son should journey
no daughter slip away–
ashamed of who they choose to love
or how their hearts are made.
Unafraid. . .what the world may say
let us bring all children home–and
. . .simply love them
. . .simply love them
Far from you,
they need not journey,
into some distant night.
. . .simply love them.
VI. Amidst The Ashes
He stood amidst the ashes,
in tears of disbelief.
Yet on his face there was a smile
as he whispered these words to me. . .
They may destroy our temples
as a testament to their hate.
But they. . .can not defile our God,
or desecrate our faith.
Standing there beside him
in the wreckage and debris,
he softly raised his voice in praise,
the prayer of our people’s peace. . .
Baruch atah Adonoi.
Elohaynu, melach hoalam.
Shehecheyanu, vekiyemanu, vehigiyanu
Lazman Hazeh. Amen*
We stood amidst the ashes,
a rabbi with his son.
Finally, I understood
the journey once begun. .
by the wandering ones of Yisrael
for centuries disowned.
Who embraced their faith
with courage and strength. . .
claiming each other as home.
*Blessed are you, Lord our God
ruler of the universe, for giving us life,
for sustaining us, and for enabling us to reach this day.
Redemption
If we touch. . .
the pain of a wounded soul,
…we must seek redemption!
If we know. . .
the fear of captivity,
…we must seek redemption!
We, who would heal the world,
must be keepers of wisdom and light!
Calling forth our better angels,
to bring redemption to all of life!