My Mother, for SATB chorus, weaves together three texts, each a collage of images and memories surrounding the author’s mother (or, in one case, grandmother). They were written as part of the Traveling Stanzas project, a collaboration between centers of poetry and design at Kent State University, which cultivates poems by members of refugee and immigrant communities in the Akron, Ohio area. As such, the three authors have vastly different backgrounds. Their poems, however, are united by a number of shared themes. In the piece, I have deconstructed the texts down to their barest elements—individual lines or words—and rearranged them according to common themes: first, physical attributes (that is, body parts); imagery of plants; water imagery; depictions of hardship; strength; wisdom; joy; comfort; and finally, non-physical attributes (that is, the intangible). Meanwhile, the main motive of the piece (G–E–B–C–D–E–G–A) is the inversion of a motive from the fifth movement of the Brahms Requiem (“Ich will euch trösten…”), which Brahms wrote in response to the death of his own mother, using text that references a mother’s comfort. My Mother was commissioned by the Cleveland Chamber Choir and its Artistic Director Scott MacPherson, who premiered the work in 2017 in Cleveland, Ohio.
Recording: The Cleveland Chamber Choir; Scott MacPherson, conductor (Shaker Heights, Ohio, 2017)
My Mother
whose smile was the moon and stars
of my night sky
who made my heart flow
like a warm stream
whose feet were stones
to handle all the hardships of our life
whose voice was a piano
that made my mind softer
my mother
whose skin was a strawberry
sweet and shiny
Rachel Dim Ra (Myanmar)
My Mother
whose eyes were like the surface
of a quiet sea
whose words were like pure water
irrigating thirsty fields
whose advice gave clarity
like eyeglasses
so I could see the right way
My mother whose face
was like a garden
Every time I looked at her
I rested among its fragrant flowers.
Usama Halak (Syria)
My Grandma
whose arms are a safe, warm coat
in the ice cold winter
whose laughter is like the sound
of trickling streams
who smells like a freshly baked cake
whose hair is whiter than the snow
who takes care of her family
like a giant tree
whose branches give shelter
to a lone wanderer in a storm
whose love is stronger than
a fortress wall.
Agnes Haiszer-Silling (Hungary)