<back

Black Petal (2021)



Selected for June in Buffalo 2023 (deferred)

written for the [Switch~ Ensemble]
flute/bass flute, alto saxophone/baritone saxophone, percussion, violin, and cello
Black Petal is after Li-Young Lee

Duration: 10 minutes

Movements:
I. Vacant Boat, Burning Wing, My Black Petal
II. Does someone want to know the way to spring?
III. the far years between stars in their massive dying

Performances

  • University of Missouri, recorded telematically by the [Switch~ Ensemble] on April 21, 2021 and premiered online May 2, 2021

  • [Switch~ Ensemble], University of Missouri, Columbia, MO, February 15, 2022


Program Note:

Black Petal is inspired by a poem of the same title by Li-Young Lee from his book, Book of My Nights. My aim was to translate the poem into music and to interpret the emotion and themes into a meditative soundscape. For the purposes of this composition, I divide the poem into three sections that align with the work’s three movements.

The poem begins with a character who reminisces about their dead brother, “I keep him under my pillow, a dear wish / that colors my laughing and crying.”  In this first section, the persona speaks of the absence that their brother’s passing has left in their life. It acts as a reminder of the inevitability of death and, in a larger scope, the brevity of life: “He died too young to learn his name. / Now he answers to Vacant Boat, / Burning Wing, My Black Petal.”

The second section is a dialogue between the two in which the brother answers the persona’s questions. This acts as a continuation of the first movement’s themes of death, but the replies lay a foundation for acceptance and reconciliation. “Does someone want to know the way to spring? /” the character asks. “He’ll remind you / the flower was never meant to survive / the fruit’s triumph.”

The final section begins with a sentiment of memory: “He says an apple’s most secret cargo / is the enduring odor of a human childhood.” So long as we allow people to live on in our memories, they are never truly absent; the past, in essence, gives comfort and hope to the present. The character also learns to recognize the cycle of generations that is inherent to existence, which provides a reason to look towards the future. “His voice / weighs nothing / but the far years between / stars in their massive dying, / and I grow quiet hearing / how many of both of our tomorrows / lie waiting inside it to be born.”

In the last few years, I have become comfortable with the idea of death, and I do not desire a legacy or memoir. Knowing I will live on in the memories of the people I care about has always been enough. In writing Black Petal, perhaps I am counteracting this philosophy, but I hope that this piece offers an introspective experience.