Prayer for Humanity

SKU: PE.EP73479

ISBN 9790577019888. 297 x 210mm inches. English.

At First Light was commissioned by Eric Bruskin, a resident of Philadelphia, USA, in memory of his mother. Eric had a longstanding enthusiasm for my work, and I was touched to be the person he approached for a task which is both a privilege and a daunting responsibility. In a sense, no music can ever measure up to the weight of love or the hope of consolation vested in it under such circumstances - but in memory I carry the deaths of both my own parents, and I was able to draw upon that. Eric's fondness for my Cello Sonata (itself written in memoriam) led him to ask that I include a solo 'cello part in the new work - but his attachment also to my polyphonic sacred choral writing meant that he wanted a centrepiece which would be both a showcase of that approach and the celebration of a life well lived. Therefore, the seven movements of At First Light arrange themselves as a series of slow meditations surrounding an exuberant 9-minute motet in which the lamenting cello falls temporarily silent.

Eric's Jewish faith meant that approaching an agnostic humanist brought up within the Anglican tradition was hardly free of problems! Gradually, though, I was able to win his approval for a collated mosaic of texts. This embraces some liturgical Latin (necessary for the motet) as the shared preserve of broad western culture in general, but balances it with a secular approach to loss, celebration, remembrance and the many shades of our mourning those whom we see no longer. Eric was adamant that he did not want the title Requiem; but what has emerged is still a form of semi-secular Requiem in all but name, taking its title instead from a phrase in the poem by Thomas Blackburn set as the third movement. This seemed to suggest succinctly how the loss of one very close to us is an awakening into an unfamiliar world where everything is changed. Following the exuberant central movement, the texts by the Lebanese-born Kahlil Gibran and the US, Kentuckian poet Wendell Berry first address the departed loved one directly, then place us within an imaginary funeral cortege, where the perennial and universal in human experience become personal without subscribing explicitly to any particular faith (or lack of it). The final text of all is a translation of a Hebraic prayer, requested and provided by Eric Bruskin, which serves to mirror its Latin counterpart heard at the outset.

Throughout, the lamenting cello represents a commentary on the experience articulated in the text. It evokes and, in a sense, tries to embrace and sanctify the individual existential journeys of the bereft, as they in turn seek to make their own sense of what the short-lived Second World War poet Alun Lewis called 'the unbearable beauty of the dead' (movement 5).

In a modern world hostage to ever greater menace, displacement, bloodshed and anguish, I hope fervently that this music not only brings a measure of solace to the person who commissioned it, but also makes its own small contribution to bailing out the sinking ship of humanity.

SKU: GI.G-007115

UPC: 641151071152.

This simple, haunting melodic line resembles some aspects of late-nineteenth-century Romanticism. Perfect for Reconciliation, Confirmation, and Pentecost, this sung intercession to the Holy Spirit depicts humanity's quest for holiness through identification with the mind, heart, and soul of God. Blending adult and child voices with the clarinet and flute obbligato lines in this piece creates a unique song-prayer to the Spirit of God.

SKU: GI.G-8955

UPC: 785147895503. Latin. Text Source: From the Liturgy of the Hours for Exaltation of the Holy Cross.

My setting of this well-known prayer is largely based on a piece of 16th-century visual art of the same name,Salvator mundi, attributed to Leonardo da Vinci. Though many artists have created similar paintings depicting Christ in this fashion, Leonardo’s is of the small minority in which the orb that Christ holds in his left hand lacks any sort of ornamentation or indeed any kind of religious symbol at all. The orb, as it appears in other depictions, is referred to as a globus cruciger (cross-bearing orb). This term does not apply in this instance, as the orb lacks a cross, existing purely as an unblemished globe, calm and serene, mirroring the expression that is present on Christ’s face. This piece should be sung in largely the same way that the painting appears on the canvas: subdued and reverent. The dynamic contrasts in measures 22–28 represent a very human supplication to Christ, but they should not be overstated or dramatic in any way. Such is the case with the entire work, it is a very introspective take on the prayer’s text, and as such it should feel quietly restrained and reflective throughout. The piece ends with four double-barred repetitions of the word “Deus,” representing the four points of the cross. Listen to The Same Stream perform Salvator Mundi from Songs of the Questioner.

SKU: FG.55011-679-5

Anyone who believes traditional tonality to be no longer capable of expressing anything more than timeworn cliches should listen to Kerem's work. (Robert Maxham / Fanfare) Lament for violoncello and strings was written as a commission from Camerata Nordica and its principal cello, Per Nystrom, in 2008. At Per's request the solo part in this piece was composed to represent a lone human voice in a world of disappointment. The composer tells: I used the violins and violas as an operatic choir: they support and comment on the lament of the lone human being. The bass line is one long drone throughout the piece, representing destiny or unwanted reality. It disappears only when the solo voice with the chorus of violins and violas intensifies in their disagreement with life. At the climax of the piece the solo voice is momentarily swallowed by the chorus, only to return with an angry statement of the opening phrase. Thereafter the chorus calms down in acceptance that the world won't change. The bass drone returns to haunt the dying lament of the lone voice. The very last phrase is the only one in a major key and echoes as a prayer for hope. Duration c. 9 minutes. Score (all three versions), separate solo parts for violoncello / viola / violin and orchestral parts (33221).

SKU: HL.4008736

ISBN 9798350120134. UPC: 196288197065.

Although specifically describing the uncertainty of approaching night and an evening prayer, Hymn at Twilight is actually about the human emotions of doubt, insecurity, hope and resolve. This solemn piece opens quietly and introduces a recurring four-note rising figure. Optimism, anxiety and resignation alternate, with the flute taking centre stage. Brass and woodwind take up the chorale. The piece ends in a mood of sanguine optimism.

SKU: HP.9085

UPC: 763628190859.

In Little Seeds you will find new hymns from my heart. My devotional life is given to you in my hymnwriting. During the past three years I have been writing songs for the unity of the church - songs reminding us of our baptism. I have been writing biblical story hymns for lesser-known characters. I have written paperless songs that may be easily memorized. I set a Rumi poem. There are new hymns for Christian missions from everywhere to everywhere. You will find new texts and musical settings for folk songs from around the world. I hope I have treated these with the love and respect they deserve. You will find alternate arrangements of some songs that may be useful in different settings. Lim Swee Hong composed three tunes for this collection at my request. I am also pleased to include Lianne Tan's first published hymn tune in Little Seeds.

SKU: HL.49047037

ISBN 9781705182024. UPC: 842819116998. 9.0x12.0x0.123 inches.

My father, Y. “Raghu” Raghunathan, came from India to the U.S. in 1963, followed soon after by my mother Sita. Dad enjoyed a substantial career as a pharmaceutical chemist, but he drew satisfaction from a simple life among family and friends, never allowing professional demands to overshadow his devotion to loved ones. Modest, compassionate, and ardently egalitarian, he was careful not to take anything too seriously, especially himself. He embraced his own ordinariness because it connected him to everyone else; it made him no better or worse than his neighbor, no more or less deserving of friendship or kindness than any of his fellow human beings. He showed us how to live with dignity, compassion, grace, and boundless love. His last piece of advice to me: “Go slow.” Several weeks after his passing, I happened upon a recording of Shostakovich’s 24 Preludes and Fugues, opus 87. I couldn’t understand why at the time, but the sixteenth prelude and fugue took hold of me and would not let go. I completely immersed myself in that piece for ten days, until it became a mystical conduit for something else: in this semi-trance state I produced a prelude and fugue of my own, in prayer (orison) and in praise (upastuti). It shadows Shostakovich’s form, but it somehow expresses my father’s unhurried, loving spirit. I’ve come to believe that he sent me this piece as a blessing. I hope you feel his presence in it as I do. Vijay Iyer.