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JACOB AVSHALOMOV
Jacob Avshalomov was born on March 28, 1919 in Tsingtao, China. His mother was from San Francisco; his father was Aaron Avshalomov, a Siberian-born composer whose works have an oriental cast, the result of a thirty year residence in China.
Early in 1937 he came into the orbit of his father's activities in Shanghai. Up to that point music had been an avocation; and although interrupted by the Japanese invasion and a stint in a British volunteer corps, the commitment to music had been made. In December of that year, Avshalomov's mother returned to the United States to be repatriated and with her came her immigrant son, resolved to devote himself to composition.
During a year in Los Angeles he studied with Ernst Toch. Next came two years in Portland, where he lived and studied with Lucia and Jacques Gershkovitch, met his future wife Doris, attended Reed College and played percussion and cello in the Junior Symphony. Then followed two years at the Eastman School of Music, where he took his B.M. and M.A. degrees.
During WWII Avshalomov was in London where he conducted English madrigal groups and an international amateur chorus. Returned to Washington, D.C., he was transferred to the State Department-where for a time he considered making a career. But a fellowship at Columbia University was followed by a post on the music faculty where he served from 1946 to 1954.
That year he returned to Portland to conduct the Junior Symphony's 30th Anniversary concert in February, and in June accepted the post as Conductor to succeed Jacques Gershkovitch, his mentor. He completes his 40th and final season June 1, 1995. Avshalomov leaves a record with the Portland Youth Philharmonic of over 10,000 student auditions, six international tours, five compact disc recordings. Alumni of the Portland Youth Philharmonic can be found in major orchestras around the world.
In 1968 he was appointed to a six year term on the National Humanities Council by President Johnson. Immediately after that he was named to the National Arts Endowment Music Planning Section. He is one of the few Americans to have served both Endowments.
Mr. Avshalomov's compositions have been conducted by Lawrence Leighton Smith, Stokowski and Robert Show in Europe, Russia and Asia. In recent years his works have been performed in New York, Detroit, Salt Lake City, San Francisco, Seoul and Budapest.
PRAISES FROM THE CORNERS OF THE EARTH
Praises From the Corners of the Earth is the general title that Jacob Avshalomov has given to his choral setting of four texts that he has assembled into an eloquent exhortation to both humanity and divinity. It was commissioned by John Dexter in 1964 for his Mid America Chorale and was first performed in that year, in Des Moines, Iowa. In the original version, the chorus was accompanied by organ and percussion instruments. The orchestral version is the result of a commission from Lawrence Smith, former Music Director and Conductor of the Oregon Symphony Orchestra, and is dedicated to Mr. and Mrs. Robert H. Noyes of Portland.
The musical style of each section of the work reflects the character and the source of the words. The Donne setting is open in texture. The prayer of Chief Joseph uses drums in a manner that could be called "Indian." The text from the Koran is delivered in a long florid melody recalling the cries of the muezzin who, from the minaret of a mosque, calls the faithful to prayer. The music for the cummings poem is fragmented and flighty. The work comes around a full circle by closing with a repetition of the Donne.
I
Heare us, O heare us Lord; to thee
A sinner is more musique, when he prayes,
Than Spheares, or Angells praises bee,
In Panegyrique Allelujaes;
Heare us, for till thou heare us, Lord
We know not what to say:
Thine eare to our sighes, teares, thoughts gives voice and word.
O Thou who heard'st Satan in Job's sick day, Heare thy selfe now, for thou in us dost pray.
John Donne. Holy Sonnets xxiii
II
O thou great mystery, Creator of the universe,
Whose Power & Goodness are displayed in
the wonders of the sun & the glories of the moon,
the great foliage of the forest
and the waters of the deep.
Sign of the four winds
At whatever corners of the earth that we may meet
Let us be friends, white man & red man,
And when we come to the end of that long trail
And step off into the eternal hunting ground
From which no hunter returns,
Let us have faith, both in Thee—
thou great mystery—
And in each other.
O Kitchi Manito, hear us!
Chief Joseph Strongwolf
Ill
By the noon-day Brightness
By the dark of Night
Thy Lord hath not forsaken thee,
And surely the future will surpass the present,
And thy Lord will be bounteous to thee.
So that thou wilt be content.
Did he not find thee orphaned and protect thee?
Did he not find thee wandering and guide thee?
Did he not find thee needy and provide for thee?
Therefore, as to the orphan, wrong him not,
And him that asks of thee, chide him not away;
And as for the favors of thy Lord,
Tell them abroad.
The Koran, Surah xciii
IV
i thank You God for most this amazing day;
for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a
blue true dream of sky; and for everything
that's natural that's infinite that's yes
(i am alive again today and this is the sun's birthday; and of the gay great
happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting, touching, hearing, seeing
breathing any human merely being
doubt unimaginable you?
(now the ears of my ears awake and now the
eyes of my eyes are opened)
e.e. cummings
(i thank You God © 1950 by e.e. cummings. From POEMS 1923-1954 by permission of Horcount Brace Jovanovich Inc.)
RAPTURES FOR ORCHESTRA ON MADRIGALS OF GESUALDO
This is a work in which the orchestra goes into raptures over three of Gesualdo's wonderful madrigals, dwelling on the extraordinary harmonies, extending the flights of feeling and motion, and deepening the poignancies.
In Moro Lasso the voices sing the entire madrigal through, unaccompanied, before the orchestra is engaged. In Mille Volte il Di, the voices present the madrigal in short sections for the orchestra to comment on. In lo Pur Respiro the song is presented in longer sections. The madrigals are otherwise sung exactly as Gesualdo wrote them.
The orchestral music consists entirely of the music of the madrigals; they are metamorphosed in texture, range, tempo and by repetitions. No extraneous material whatever has been introduced.
The world premiere of this work was given by the Spokane Symphony Orchestra and Chamber Chorale on February 23,1982 under the direction of Donald Thulean, who conducts this performance.
MORO, LASSO, AL MIO DUOLO
I die, alas, for all my sorrow
and she who could give me life. Ah!
how she wounds me and will offer no pity!
Oh most painful fate, she who could
grant me life renders me death.
MILLE VILTE IL DI MORO
I die a thousand times a day.
And you, cruel sighs, care not
that in dying I cease not to sigh.
And you, cruel soul, afflicted by my grief
and yet holding me in it,
know that only death can free me from my harsh and bitter state.
My sighs and my soul are merciless to me,
and only death is pitiful.
IO PUR RESPIRO
Am Istill breathing, despite my anguish
And heart, art thou still beating,
Oh cruel heart unfeeling? Woe!
Futile is my yearning to see
but once again my beloved!
O come, Death, come and take me,
rid me of hopeless suffering!
And with a single blow end my life and woe.
Gesualdo
SYMPHONY OF SONGS
My Symphony of Songs is dedicated to all the musicians who have played in the Portland Junior Symphony and Portland Youth Philharmonic orchestras - past and present. It was commissioned by Friends of the Association
Many of my works have a literary connection - in choral/orchestral, narrative and vocal pieces. This Symphony, my third, draws on seven songs composed over a fifty-year period. The texts are by poets ranging from Thomas Nashe, in the 16th century, to Gordon Newell, the sculptor/poet. In some of the movements the vocal line is simply assigned to one or more instruments, with the rest of the orchestra providing the "accompaniment." In others, the original material is "symphonized" by extending it to depths and heights, intensities and explorations which far exceed the expressive range of voice and piano. In short, the songs are given a symphonic treatment, which is latent in the full orchestra. You don't have to love poetry to respond to the music, but reading the poems will let you know what prompted the sounds you hear.
I. FED BY MY LABORS
Fed by my labors
those lines drawn on the ground
have become ribs of rock
and cast shadows
where the clear sun stretched
his long length before.
Some of those stone spines
have raised themselves higher
than my head above their thrilling start, and now
the warm winds of autumn
must find new ways to pass this hill.
When the first rain comes
it will feel gently for its
old accustomed slope
and then strike hard in fury
to take again its threatened realm.
Gordon Newell
II. ADIEU, FAREWELL EARTH'S BLISS
Adieu, farewell earth's bliss,
this world uncertain is:
Fond are life's lustful joys,
death proves them all but toys,
None from his darts can fly
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!
Rich men trust not in wealth,
Gold cannot give you health;
Physic himself must fade,
All things to end are made,
The plague full swift goes by;
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!
Beauty is but a flow'r which wrinkles will devour:
Brightness falls from the air,
Queens have died young & fair,
Dust hath closed Helen's eye.
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!
Wit with its wantonness
tasteth death's bitterness;
Hell's executioner hath no ear
for to hear what vain art can reply.
Haste therefor each degree
to welcome destiny.
Heaven is our heritage,
Earth but a player's stage;
Mount we unto the sky.
I am sick, I must die.
Lord have mercy on us!
Thomas Nashe, In Time of Plague
IIIa. ANSWER JULY
Answer July -
Where is the Bee -
Where is the Blush -
Where is the Hay?
Ah, said July -
Where is the Seed -
Where is the Bud -
Where is the May -
Answer Thee - Me -
Nay - said the May -
Show me the Snow -
Show me the Bells -
Show me the Jay!
Quibbled the Jay -
Where be the Maize -
Where be the Haze -
Where be the Bur?
Here - said the Year -
Emily Dickinson
IIIb. THE WATCH
When I took my watch
to the watchfixer I
felt privileged but also pained to
watch the operation. He
had long fingernails and a voluntary squint. He
fixed a magnifying cup over his
squint eye. He undressed my watch. I
watched him split her
in three layers and lay her
middle - a quivering viscera -
in a circle on a little plinth. He shoved
shirtsleeves up and leaned
like an ogre over my
naked watch. With critical pincers he
poked and stirred. He
lifted out little private things with a
magnet too tiny for me
to watch almost. "Watch out!" I
almost said. His
eye watched, enlarged the secrets of
my watch, and I watched anxiously.
Because what if he touched her
ticker too rough, and she
gave up the ghost out of pure fright?
Or put her things back backwards so
she'd run backwards after this? Or he
might lose a minuscule part, connected
to her exquisite heart, and mix her
up, instead of fix her.
And all the time,
all the time-pieces on the walls,
on the shelves, told the time,
told the time in swishes and ticks,
swishes and ticks, and seemed to be gloat-
ing, as they watched and told. I
felt faint, I was about to lose my
breath - my ticker going lickety-split
- when watchfixer clipped her
three slices together with a gleam and two
flicks of this tools like chopsticks.
He spat out his eye, lifted her
high, gave her a twist, set her
hands right, and laid her little face, quite
as usual, in its place on my wrist.
May Swenson
IV. WHO IS MY SHEPHERD
Who is my shepherd
that I shall not want?
Who with earth-roughened hands
will loose the spike that joins
my ankle-bones and bear me home,
and have me in his house?
I seek a father who most need a son,
yet have no voice to call one or
the other, nor wind nor oracle to
publish me, where I am meant to die.
Who is my uncle that shall intervene?
assist the turning wheel, that like
the running tower of the Sun
will smash my king's house,
and my cockle-shell.
Who is my mother that shall
make my bed?
who with gold-beaten rings
will quicken me
that I beget my son
where my cold father
with his lust lay down.
Who is one blind that has already
seen blood where it will fall soon?
He knows my ways and how I
rule this ground,
in his perpetual light will I be found.
The day is in the sea, the night grows cold.
Is the event long passed?
The suckling beast knows where
I lie alone.
I seek a father
who most need a son.
John Malcolm Brinnin
Va. THE SMILE
There is a Smile of Love,
There is a Smile of Deceit,
And there is a Smile of Smiles
In which these two Smiles meet.
There is a Frown of Hate,
There is a Frown of Disdain,
And there is a Frown of Frowns
Which you strive to forget in vain,
For it sticks in the Heart's deep Core
And it sticks in the deep Back bone;
And no Smile that ever was smil'd
But only one Smile alone,
That betwixt the Cradle and Grave
It only once Smil'd can be;
But, when it once is Smil'd,
There's an end to all Misery.
Vb. THE GRAIN OF SAND
There is a grain of Sand in Lambeth
that Satan cannot find,
Nor can his Watch Fiends find it
'tis translucent and has many Angles,
and within every angle is a lovely heaven.
There is a Moment in each Day
that Satan cannot find,
Nor can his Watch Fiends find it;
but the Industrious find this Moment
and multiply it, and when it once is
found it renovates every moment
of the Day, if rightly placed.
There is a place where
Contrarieties are equally True;
it is a pleasant Shadow
Where no dispute can come,
Because of those who Sleep.
William Blake
Oregon's Portland Youth Philharmonic is America's first youth orchestra, founded in 1924. Known as one of America's finest youth ensembles, the Philharmonic has performed in a joint concert with the NewYork Philharmonic and has toured Europe, Japan and Korea. Jacob Avshalomov has been the Portland Youth Philharmonic's conductor for 40 years.
Portland Youth Philharmonic
Jacob Avshalomov, conductor
Praises from the Corners of the Earth was recorded February 25, 1984, Daryl Conser,
engineer. Raptures Far Orchestra was recorded May 7, 1989, Daryl Conser, engineer.
Symphony of Songs was recorded February 26, 1994, Roderick J. Evenson, engineer.
Performances recorded in the Civic Auditorium and Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall,
Portland, Oregon. All post production work by Roderick J. Evenson.
Cover Art: Todd Larsen
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