VOX AT THE OLYMPIA BAKERY – “TREE OF LIFE”

Molweni (We Are One) – Music by Grant McLachlan (b. 1956)*

• This work, with words by David Parry-Davies*, was commissioned by VOX for the Eco-Logic Awards 2018
• Our soloist this evening is Carelize Jacobs

Molweni Mother Earth
I thank you for my Body
Made from your rocks and roots
Your Body becomes my Body
My Body becomes your Body
We are One

 

Molweni Mother Earth
I thank you for your Air
That flows through my lungs
Your Air becomes my Air
My Air becomes your Air
We are One

 

Molweni Mother Earth
I thank you for your Waters
That flow through my veins
Your Waters become my Waters
My Waters becomes your Waters
We are One

 

Molweni Mother Earth
I thank you for your Life-force
That gives vitality to my body
Your Life-force becomes my Life-force
My Life-force becomes your Life-force

 

Molweni Mother Earth
I greet you in love and gratitude
We are One

Sicut Cervus – Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina (1525/6–1594, Italy)

• This is a sublime setting of Psalm 42

Sicut cervus desiderat ad fontes aquarum,
ita desiderat anima mea ad Te, Deus.

 

As a hart longs for the flowing streams,
so longs my soul for thee, O God.

The Blue Bird – Charles Villiers Stanford (1852–1924, Ireland)

• Our soloist this evening is Lia Hall
• This year the choral community is marking 100 years since the death of the great Irish composer, Sir Charles Villiers Stanford. More information about this piece and its words, written by Mary E. Coleridge (1861–1907), great-grandniece of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, may be found in this blog post by Debi Simons

The lake lay blue below the hill.
O’er it, as I looked, there flew
Across the waters, cold and still,
A bird whose wings were palest blue.

 

The sky above was blue at last,
The sky beneath me blue in blue.
A moment, ere the bird had passed,
It caught his image as he flew.

Caged Bird – Nicky Schrire (b. 1986)*

• You can read more about this piece on our page ‘New Choral Music for South Africa’; it was first performed by VOX at Flower Songs, our botanically-inspired recital at the UCT Irma Stern Museum in 2019
• The poignant words are written by Maya Angelou (1928–2014)
• Our soloist on Saturday is Sarah McArthur; on Sunday, Suzie Cameron will be singing the opening solo passage

A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wing
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

 

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

 

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

 

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

 

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

 

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

Butterfly – Mia Makaroff (b. 1970, Finland)

Sweet is the touch of your newborn wings
We fly in circles and play with the sun
We haven’t seen this world before
So fair, so bright, so blue the sky

 

Love me, love me on the leaves
Before we say goodbye
Love me, kiss me with the breeze
You will be my lullaby
Tomorrow I’ll die
Tomorrow I’ll die
Tomorrow I’ll die
You’ll be my lullaby

 

Love me, kiss me with the breeze
Kiss me with the breeze
Kiss me with the breeze
Kiss me with the breeze
Love me, love me on the leaves
Love me, love me

 

Love me, love me on the leaves
Before we say goodbye
Love me, kiss me with the breeze
You’ll be my lullaby

 

Tomorrow I’ll die

 

Sweet is the wind as it gently blows
The day away, and the nighttime comes
Great are the wonders that silence shows
I fall asleep, and I dream of the sun
And my butterfly

‘Wie Sing?’ and ‘Te snel’ from Weggewerp – Hans Huyssen (b. 1964)*

• These two movements are part of a four-movement work commissioned by VOX and the SAMRO Foundation entitled Weggewerp. The first performance (delayed by the Covid-19 pandemic) formed the centrepiece of our Karoo-inspired concert last year, Timeless Whispers
• The texts and translations of these two poems by WEG Louw (1913–1980)* may be found on the page describing Weggewerp
• Tonight these poems are recited by Dirk Binneman

The Seal Lullaby – Eric Whitacre (United States)

• The gentle lullaby has been one of our favourite pieces over the years, especially because of its links to the Cape! We have all seen seals frolicking in our coastal waters, and the words were written by a frequent visitor to our shores, Rudyard Kipling (1865–1936)
• During the Covid-19 pandemic, we were proud to partner with the Cape Town Philharmonic Orchestra for a virtual performance of this work
• This piece is accompanied by Anthea van Wieringen

Oh! Hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us,
And black are the waters that sparkled so green.
The moon, o’er the combers, looks downward to find us,
At rest in the hollows that rustle between.

 

Where billow meets billow, then soft be thy pillow,
Oh weary wee flipperling, curl at thy ease!
The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark overtake thee,
Asleep in the arms of the slow swinging seas!

Stars – Ēriks Ešenvalds (Latvia)

• These beautiful words are by American poetess Sara Teasdale (1884–1933)
• We first performed this work in the first instalment of our New Soundscapes series entitled A Tale of Two Tave(r)ners

Alone in the night
On a dark hill
With pines around me
Spicy and still,

 

And a heaven full of stars
Over my head
White and topaz
And misty red;

 

Myriads with beating
Hearts of fire
The aeons
Cannot vex or tire;

 

Up the dome of heaven
Like a great hill
I watch them marching
Stately and still.

 

And I know that I
Am honored to be
Witness
Of so much majesty.

Pula, Pula! – Franco Prinsloo*

• We have previously presented this piece at In The Dark :: Pärt/Palestrina (2017) and our Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols (following the First Lesson)
• The words are Setswana:

Pula, pula, pula a e ne
A dinoka di elele
A dinoka di retlhatswe dipelo
A pula e tale go nosetsa lefatshe le le nyorilweng
Dinoka di elele di retlhatswe dipelo

 

Let it rain
Let the rivers flow
Let the rivers clean our hearts
Let the rain come and quench the thirsty earth

Cloudburst – Eric Whitacre

• The words are taken from the poem The Broken Water-Jar by Mexican diplomat (and Nobel Laurete) Octavio Paz (1914–1998); this translation is by Lysander Kemp
• The piece formed one of the choral centrepieces of our Trust the Silences presentations in 2016 and 2017
• Our vocal soloists this evening are Chris Arnold, Aaron Juritz and Megan Gardner
• Our instrumentalists are Suzanne Buchanan (wind chimes), Sarah McArthur (suspended cymbal), Fran Laenen (glockenspiel), Bevan Timm (thunder sheet), Kyle Paulssen (bass drum) and Anthea van Wieringen (piano)

El cántaro roto

 

La lluvia…

 

Ojos de aqua de sombra,
ojos de agua de pozo,
ojos de aqua de sueño.

 

Soles azules, verdes remolinos,
picos de luz que abren astros
como granadas.

 

Dime, tierra quemada, no hay aqua?
hay sólo sangre, sólo hay polvo,
sólo pisadas de pies desnudos sobre la espina?

 

La lluvia despierta…

 

Hay que domir con los ojos abiertos,
hay que soñar con les manos,
soñemos sueños activos de río buscando su cauce,
sueños de sol soñando sus mundos,
hay que soñar en voz alta,
hay que cantar hasta que el canto eche,
raíces, tronco, ramas, pájaros, astros,
hay que desenterrar la palabra perida,
recordar lo que dicen la sangre y la marea,
le tierra y el cuerpo,
volver al punto de partida…

 

The broken water-jar

 

The rain…

 

Eyes of shadow-water,
eyes of well-water,
eyes of dream-water.

 

Blue suns, green whirlwinds,
birdbeaks of light pecking open
pomegranate stars.

 

But tell me, burnt earth, is there no water?
Only blood, only dust,
Only naked footsteps on the thorns?

 

The rain awakens…

 

We must sleep with open eyes,
we must dream with our hands,
we must dream the dreams of a river seeking its course,
of the sun dreaming its worlds,
we must dream aloud,
we must sing till the song puts forth roots,
trunk, branches, birds, stars,
we must find the lost word,
and remember what the blood,
the tides, the earth, and the body say,
and return to the point of departure…

* South African