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THIS WORLD IS NOT CONCLUSION
JOEL ERIC SUBEN, CONDUCTOR
CHRIS PEDRO TRAKAS, BAritone
The first impression that Michael Dellaira's work gives is that of simple beauty, no small virtue in and of itself. But listen again. Repeated hearings reveal a musical world of depth and subtlety, marked by the kinds of surprises that are the mark of a sure and confident ear.
Michael has something to tell us. He has created a personal musical language that combines the harmonic vocabulary and rhythmic interest of rock music with the technical rigor of the best modern classical music. It is this combination and synthesis of seemingly contradictory elements which points to the direction of new American music in a new century and which gives both surface tension and excitement, and deeper value to Michael's music.
Michael Dellaira was born in Schenectady, New York. A passable clarinetist, violinist, and chorister as a child, he also performed as a drummer, singer, and guitar player in rock and folk groups. After graduating from Georgetown University with a degree in philosophy, he pursued a career as a guitarist and songwriter and at the same time began formal studies in theory and composition with Robert Parris at The George Washington University. His increasing interest in 12-tone music and computer music led him to Princeton University where he received an M.F.A. and Ph.D. working under Milton Babbitt, Edward T. Cone, and Paul Lansky. He was awarded two residencies at the Composers Conference at Johnson, Vermont, where he studied with Mario Davidovsky, and as a Fulbright Fellow to Italy, he studied with Goffredo Petrassi (L'Accademia di Santa Cecilia) and Franco Donatoni (L'Accademia Chigiana), who both encouraged him to refine his instinct for popular music as much as his penchant for mathematical constructs.
During the 1980's, Dellaira withdrew into a private period of musical self-examination and re-evaluation, exploring styles and genres he'd previously considered off-limits, simple-minded, or too abstract: chance-music, improvisation, MIDI, graphic, electronic. This period lasted until 1995, the year he completed the score to Three Rivers. That work, a turning point, employs the vernacular rhythms and harmonies characteristic of Dellaira's musical voice.
Dellaira has received grants and awards from the ASCAP, Ford and Mellon Foundations, Cary Trust, New Jersey Arts Council and the American Society of University Composers (now the Society of Composers). He has taught music at The George Washington University, Princeton University and Union College. Since 1993, he has been Vice President of the American Composers Alliance (ACA), the oldest composer's service organization in the U.S.
The Stranger, Grief is a concert aria from my two-act opera Chéri, with a libretto by Susan Yankowitz adapted from the novel by Colette . Its central character is Léa de Lonval, a 49 year-old ex-courtesan who has been having an affair with the vain 23 year-old Chéri. With feigned indifference, the lovers have accepted the inevitability of Chéri's pending marriage to the naïve, young Edmée: Chéri assumes that Léa will never leave him while Léa pretends that their affair was only one of many, with many more to follow. In this scene, Chéri has just left Léa's apartment when suddenly Léa begins to experience a sense of loss unfamiliar to her. Then, accepting “the stranger, grief,” she quickly plans to depart Paris on a trip to the South.
The three sections of U.S.A. Stories— Adagio Dancer, Art and Isadora, and The Campers at Kitty Hawk— are based on texts borrowed from The Big Money, the third novel in John Dos Passos's trilogy U.S.A.
These portraits of Rudolph Valentino, Isadora Duncan, and the Wright Brothers are characterized by long sentences, irregular rhythms, witty alliterations, and colloquial diction; as a former rock songwriter I found Dos Passos's prose style appealingly close to the spirit of pop lyrics. And his selection of these famous personalities represents, for me, three strands of American culture: in Isadora Duncan, the tradition of “high art” (her rebellion a part of its tradition); in Valentino, popular culture writ large - capricious, ephemeral, ultimately cruel; in the Wright Brothers, the promise of American progress, a blend of science, utility, and risk.
Three Rivers was composed in 1995 to help commemorate Union College's bicentennial year and was premiered by the college orchestra under the direction of Hilary Tann. The work is based entirely on my guitar music from the 60's — or rather on fragments I could still remember (I had never written any of it down) — composed into a single movement of three distinct sections: Mohawk, Sligo, and Meander. Despite the luxury of hindsight and maturity, I have tried to preserve the sense of improvisation which occured when this music flowed freely from heart to fingers, unimpeded by matters of style, theory, or criticism.
The first section, named for the Mohawk River, summons the sights and sounds of the upstate New York of my childhood. The second section refers to the composition “Sligo River Blues” by the late guitarist John Fahey; it appeared on his first album Blind Joe Death and was, perhaps, the piece that showed me most clearly how music could be simple and powerful at the same time. I have adapted it here as a tribute to Fahey. The third section refers not to the actual river in Turkey but to the one described by Ovid in Book IX of The Metamorphoses: “the river that coils its way against its source.” If to drink from the river Lethe is to forget, then from what river, I wondered, does one drink in order to remember? Because no such river may exist, Ovid's Meander suggests the reluctance with which we leave our past behind as we head to destinations unknown.
Commissioned by the New Music Festival of Sandusky, This World is not Conclusion is comprised of four movements for chorus, string orchestra, and clarinet on poems by Emily Dickinson: Crisis Is A Hair, We Like March, This World is not Conclusion, and Heart! We will forget him!
Although these movements are structurally and stylistically related, each piece can stand on its own. In addition, I'm tempted to regard the final double-bar as temporary; I can imagine working with so many of Dickinson's poems (a hundred would not be an exaggeration), each possessing her magical ability to be transparent and opaque simultaneously, that I foresee this composition evolving over the years into an open-ended, unordered collection, a “songbook” if you will, from which choruses may pick and choose according to the dictates of time, occasion, or whim.
Dickinson's poems suggest incompleteness (as in “unfulfilled,” not “unfinished”) and this suggestion is echoed in the role of the solo clarinet, which in the company of a string section conveys the sense of an incomplete orchestra. (Next to the strings the clarinet is, in my opinion, the most versatile of orchestral instruments. My writing for the chorus here, like in USA Stories, attempts to create the illusion of a single, complex, reverberated voice, each choral part contributing to the sense of mass through repetition, imitation, hocket, and the avoidance of rhythmic unison.
Richard Howard's poems are meant to be heard, as anyone who has had the pleasure of reading them aloud can tell you, and “Colored Stones” is replete with so much of its own delicate music that I simply tried not to get in its way. The piano (itself a collection of “colored stones”) and singing voice intend to convey the dramatic simplicity of a recital, not to recast the poem into what is commonly, and sometimes pretentiously, called a “setting.” I've taken only minor liberties with the text, altering small points of punctuation and syllabification rather than the bolder, more proprietary acts of repeating phrases, rearranging words or making them disappear altogether. The result is, I hope, a Colored Stones as much about person (reader, listener, character) as place (the poem's ten locales) or thing (stone, in various shapes and guises: castle, canyon, grave, quarry). Colored Stones is dedicated to my first composition teacher, the late Robert Parris.
(aria from Act 1 Scene 3 of Chéri)
Libretto by Susan Yankowitz
(CHÉRI exits. LÉA stands quietly, then starts to shiver)
LÉA (calls outside the room)
Rose. Rose. Bring me some hot chocolate.
(gets a shawl and wraps it around her shoulders, sinks into an armchair)
Hurry, dear, I'm freezing.
I am not ill, but I'm in pain.
I have no fever, but I burn
and then I shake with chills.
Nothing aches, except my heart —
(walks to the door, opens it: no-one's there. SHE stands, framed by the empty doorway)
The graceful hand that left its trace
The drowsy sigh against my cheek
Here comes the enemy, a stranger:
(walks about the room touching the objects CHÉRI touched)
Now the lilacs scent the night
His slender arms will reach out
The tender hollow of his throat
The places where I lay my head
High above the skylarks sing
The stars sparkle and dance
But shine no light on me.
He will not be holding me
Go out and embrace the darkness
Here comes the enemy, a stranger:
(SHE picks up a few articles of CHÉRI's clothing strewn about the room — socks, a scarf, a smoking jacket)
The smoky hair that lies in curls
The graceful hand that left its trace
(SHE lets the items drop again to the floor, then falls into her chair)
(footsteps are heard mounting the stairs)
(SHE starts, listens attentively)
ROSE (enters, carrying a tray)
It's true. You don't look well.
The winter in Paris is qso cold.
I think I need a change of air.
Yes, yes, I'll travel south,
and I'll eat meals cooked in oil.
(from John Dos Passos's The Big Money)
Rodolfo Guglielmi wanted to make good.
A born tango dancer, he took the name of Rudolph Valentino.
*[Waving hands autograph books
[Lazy, handsome, good tempered and vain he got his chance in The Four Horsemen.
Stucco villas, tiger skins and silk robes, limousines, night clubs and fine horses]
He wanted to make good in the bright lights. He wanted to make good in the glare of million dollar search lights. He wanted to make good.
He married his old partner, married the daughter of a millionaire, went into lawsuits with producers. The Tribune called him a pink powderpuff. It broke his heart.
He broke down. Doctors. Ether. Hospital swamped with calls. Corridors were filled with flowers. Crowds filled streets outside. Peritonitis. He was only thirty one when he died.
[He lay in state. Casket covered. A cloth of gold. Undertakers.]
[Tens of thousands men women and children. Hundreds trampled masses stampeded.
Chapel gutted traffic tied up Broadway.
Women fainted got in to view the poor body of Rudolph Valentino]
[Many notables attended the funeral.]
[America's sweetheart sobbing bitterly in a small black straw with a black band. Black bow behind in black georgette followed. Coffin covered by a blanket of pink roses. The funeral train left for Hollywood.]
Shipped off to America, to sink or swim
Rodolfo Guglielmi the family was through with him. To sink or swim, a born tango dancer. Women thought he was a darling, lazy, handsome, good tempered and vain. The Sheik made good.
In San Francisco in eighteen hundred seventy eight Mrs. Isadora O'Gorman Duncan, a high-spirited lady with a taste for the piano set about divorcing her husband, the prominent Mr. Duncan. The whole thing made her so nervous she declared to her children she couldn't keep anything on her stomach except a little champagne and oysters.
Into a world of gaslit boarding houses, ruined southern belles and basques and bustles, she bore a daughter who she named after herself, Isadora. Mrs. Duncan turned into an atheist, the Duncans were always in debt, the rent was always due. The Duncans weren't Catholic anymore or Presbyterian, Quaker or Baptist. They were artists.
Isadora had green eyes, reddish hair, a beautiful neck and arms. She could not afford lessons in conventional dancing so she made up dances on her own. She went to New York in a production of Midsummer Night's Dream, the family followed her they rented a big room in Carnegie Hall, put mattresses in the corner and invented the first Greenwich Village studio.
They were always one jump ahead of the sheriff, they were always standing the landlady up for the rent. When the Hotel Windsor burned they lost everything they owned and sailed for London to escape the materialism of their native America. In London they discovered the Greeks.
Under the smoky chimneypots of London they danced in muslin tunics, they copied poses from Greek vases, went to lectures, art galleries and plays. Whenever they were put out of their lodgings Isadora led them to best hotel and sent the waiters scurrying for lobsters, champagne and fruit out of season. London liked her gall, her lusty American innocence, her California accent.
One day she picked up a good looking young mechanic who drove a Bugatti racer. She made him take her out for a ride. Her friends did not want her to go but she insisted. The mechanic put his car in gear and started. She got in beside him and turned back and said: “Adieu mes amis, je vais a la gloire.”
The Campers at Kitty Hawk
On December seventeenth nineteen hundred and three Bishop Wright of the United Brethren received a telegram from his boys Wilbur and Orville, who'd gotten it into their heads to spend their vacation in a little camp out on the dunes of the North Carolina coast with a homemade glider they'd knocked together themselves. The telegram read: SUCCESS FOUR FLIGHTS THURSDAY MORNING AGAINST TWENTY ONE MILE WIND STARTED FROM ENGINE POWER ALONE.
The figures were a little wrong but the fact remains a couple of young bicycle mechanics from Dayton Ohio had designed and flown for the first time ever a practical airplane.
In those days flying machines were the big laugh of all the crackerbarrel philosophers. They were practical mechanics; when they needed anything they built it themselves.
They hit on Kitty Hawk on the great dunes and sandy banks that stretch south to Hatteras seaward. Overhead the gulls and swooping terns, fishhawks and cranes flapping across the salt marshes.
They were alone there and figured out the loose sand was as soft as anything they could find to fall in, taking off again and again from Kill Devil Hill they learned to fly.
Aeronautics became the sport of the day, congratulated by the czar, crown prince, the King of Italy, King Edward for universal peace.
[Taking off again and again they learned to fly. In the rush of new names the Brothers Wright passed from the headlines: Bleriot, Farman, Curtiss, Ferber, Esnault, Petrie, Delagrange can blur the memory of the chilly December day two shivering bicycle mechanics first felt their homemade contraption soar into the air, above the dunes of Kitty Hawk.]
[“I released the wire that held the machine to the track. The machine started forward into the wind. Wilbur ran at the side holding the wing. The machine started slowly facing twenty seven mile wind, it lifted from the track. Wilbur was able to stay with it until it lifted from the track after a forty foot run. The course of the flight up and down was erratic, the first flight in the history of the world. The machine carried a man by his own power into the air in full flight forward without reduction of speed landed at a point as high as that from which it started.”]
[When these points had been firmly established we packed our goods and returned home, knowing that the age of the flying machine had come at last.]
*text in brackets [] sung simultaneously
This World is not Conclusion
(four poems of Emily Dickinson)
Toward which the forces creep
Past which forces retrograde
Ignorant is it Life or Death
We like March—his shoes are Purple.
Makes he mud for Dog and Peddler—
Knows the Adder's Tongue his coming
Stands the Sun so close and mighty—
News is he of all the others—
With the Blue Birds buccaneering
This World is not Conclusion
It beckons, and it baffles—
And through a Riddle, at the last—
To guess it, puzzles scholars—
To gain it, Men have borne
Faith slips—and laughs, and rallies—
Plucks at a twig of Evidence—
And asks a Vane, the way—
Much Gesture, from the Pulpit—
Narcotics cannot still the Tooth
That nibbles at the soul—
Heart! We will forget him!
You may forget the warmth he gave—
When you have done, pray tell me
That I may straight begin!
Haste! Lest while you're lagging
Marble, said the guide, a marble mount!
Step by step the Acropolitan
ascent rehearsed — disclosed — our Pilgrimage,
Americans, more Germans, even Greeks.
The Way was ready for us as we came:
whatever we were, the white stones would wear.
Fifty feet away, the buildings look
bullet-pocked, but closer to, each hole
turns out to be a scallop or a snail.
The walls are beaches then! a fossil shore
has taught the lessons of Old Main:
Thalassa! Thalassa! The Ten Thousand cried.
Those rusty looking piles offshore? Three Nymphs
the locals call them, though I can make out
no more than a messy form of bricolage;
here on the wrong side of Gibraltar the sea
can oxidize a nymph into a nun
(Atlantic orders, iron-grey and dun).
Bluestone quarries. This was where they cut
the sidewalks of New York, which do not seem
particularly blue. And giving way
to asphalt and macadam, gravel, dust.
Here the walls of of fine-grained boulders glow;
sometimes, “in city pent,” a fine blue must.
Bristling with cannas, Dionysos's Ear
(a cave above the quarry where Greeks died)
shelters a deft ropemaker who demonstrates
for tourists daily. Sleek golden walls
set off his art, and only cannas share
the crimson shame of Alcibiades.
Braided black and white, the waves repeat
or imitate the rocks of Pemaquid;
these are the interferences of quartz
with granite, some archaic violence
garish as light on water. Stone to sand,
sea to sun, identical returns.
Companioned by the Loire whose
punctuate a classical landscape, pale
as if they had seen the ghost of Italy,
we turned off, down a lane not on the map,
and before us spread a whited precipice,
The shining slate-capped castle of Chambord!
A whirling snowstorm out of nowhere — so
we say, but into nowhere too is more
like it — and all the Utah boulders turned
from red that had the truth of massacre
to merely mass, no color and no truth:
the ruined rocks under the restless snow.
“A stone in the road — it had to be a stone
to keep that still as the car bore down.” “No,
the shock was not the indifferent adieu
of rock and rubber. Stop. See what it … was.”
The pebbled hide lay open: lilac and pink,
entrails of an iguana still alive.
“I find I incorporate gneiss and coal, stucco'd
all over,” Whitman wrote, and I have been
to the low house (he drew it for himself)
where such incorporation still goes on.
The great stones make a tiny Stonehenge there,
and the poet becomes his good gray grave.
Used with permission of the author
Rannveig Braga was born in Reykjavik, Iceland. She studied voice at the Conservatory for Music and Performing Arts in Vienna, graduating with honors. From 1987-1989 she was a member of the Vienna State Opera Ensemble. From 1991-1997 she was a guest artist at opera houses in Belgium, France, Austria and Iceland as Cherubino in “The Marriage of Figaro,” Süßes Mädel in Philip Boesman's “Der Reigen,” and Niklas in “Tales of Hoffman;” supporting cast at the Salzburg Easter and Summer Music Festival in Strauss' “Salome” and “Frau ohne Schatten.” Since 1997 Ms. Braga has been a member of the Frankfurt Opera, playing Rosina in “The Barber of Seville,” The Composer in “Ariadne auf Naxos,” Cherubino in The Marriage of Figaro, and Hansel in “Hansel and Gretel.” She has had concert appearances in Scandanavia, Portugal, Austria, and Iceland. She appears on Decca recordings of “Die Frau Ohne Schatten” conducted by Sir Georg Solti, and “Salome” conducted by Christoph von Dohnany.
Susan Yankowitz is the author of Terminal and 1969 Terminal 1996, collaborations with Joseph Chaikin's Open Theatre; Slaughterhouse Play, Boxes, Under the Skin, Night Sky, Phaedra in Delirium, A Knife in the Heart, and others. She has written a novel, Silent Witness (Knopf), opera libretti, and several films and television plays. Her screenplay for Sylvia Plath: Arrow to the Sun was a WGA award finalist. She is working on a gospel-and-blues opera with Taj Mahal, a musical fantasy with Elmer Bernstein, and a new novel. She has received honors from the NEA, NYFA, TCG, Berilla Kerr, Guggenheim and Rockefeller Foundations, and is a member of New Dramatists, PEN, Dramatists Guild, and WGA.
Praised by The New York Times for its “gorgeously regulated tone,” Cantori New York continues to uphold its reputation for excellence in ensemble singing and innovative programming. In 1999 the group celebrated its fifteenth season by meeting an extraordinary challenge: fifteen premieres and a critically acclaimed performance of Frank Martin's “Le Vin Herbe”, which was recorded for Newport Classics and named a Critic's Choice in Opera News. Cantori New York's first commercial recording, ECHOES AND SHADOWS, was released in 1997. A two-time winner of the ASCAP/Chorus America Award for Adventurous Programming, the group also has an active commissioning program. Cantori New York has participated in concert series at Trinity Church and the World Financial Center, and has performed as a guest artist on the Great Performers Series at Lincoln Center.
Mark Shapiro begins his tenth year as Artistic Director of Cantori New York. He also directs the Monmouth Civic Chorus, and is the Music Director of the Chorus at the Mannes College of Music, where he teaches in the Opera and Conducting departments. In addition, Mr. Shapiro is on the faculty of the Schola Cantorum in Paris. A summa cum laude graduate of Yale College, he has received honors from the Ecole Normale de Musique de Paris, and fellowships from the Albert Roussel and Yehudi Menuhin Foundations and served as Assistant to the Director at the American Conservatory in Fountainebleau. Mr. Shapiro has conducted the Cygnus Ensemble at Merkin Hall and the Metro Lyric Opera in New Jersey, and was Assistant Conductor for Wozzeck at the Banff Centre in Canada. He can be heard conducting the orchestra in the Ken Burns documentary for PBS about New York City.
Slovak Radio Symphony Orchestra
The Slovak Radio Symphony Orchestra of Bratislava, the oldest symphonic ensemble in Slovakia, was founded in 1929 through the efforts of Milos Ruppeldt and Oskar Nedbal, prominent figures in Slovak musical circles. Ondrej Lenard was appointed its conductor in 1970. Today its Chief Conductors are Charles Olivieri Monroe and Kirk Trevor. The orchestra regularly tours throughout Europe and the Far East, and is recording more and more works of new composers.
Joel Eric Suben has led first performances and commerdcial recordings of nearly 250 works by American and European composers, among them Pulitzer Prize winners Roger Sessions and Leslie Bassett. A frequent guest conductor of major Central European orchestras, Suben records more than ten hours of symphonic music and opera each season.
Suben studied conducting with Jacques-Louis Monod, Witold Rowicki, Otmar Suitner, and Sergiu Celibidache. While still a student, he directed the first Boston performances of Service Sacre by Darius Milhaud with members of the Opera Orchestra of Boston. As a finalist in the 1976 Hans Haring Conducting Competition of the Austrian Radio at Salzburg, Suben was called back three times by the jury to prepare a performance of Six Pieces for Orchestra, op. 6 by Anton Webern. After his 1977 debut with the American Symphony Orchestra in New York, Suben won a Fulbright scholarship for advanced study to Poland, where he devoted all of 1978 to organizing performances of American music
In March 1998 he led archival recordings of the symphonic works of Karol Rathaus at the invitation of the Polish Radio. In September 1998 Suben made his debut with the Warsaw National Philharmonic Orchestra at the Warsaw Autumn Festival. He conducts on more than 20 commercial CD releases by Naxos/Marco Polo, New World, CRI, Centaur, Parnassus, Opus One, Capstone, and Soundspells International, with forthcoming releases on Koch International. This is his debut recording on Albany Records.
Baritone Chris Pedro Trakas is noted for the intense communication he brings to a repertoire ranging from Mozart, Schubert, Rossini, Mahler and Debussy through Britten, Bernstein, Bolcom, Adams and Ellington. First coming to the public's attention after winning the Naumburg Award (sharing first prize with Dawn Upshaw), his career highlights include Strauss's “Ariadne auf Naxos” at the Metropolitan Opera with James Levine, Ravel's “L'enfant et les sortileges” with Seiji Ozawa and the Boston Symphony Orchestra, the title role in Mozart's “Don Giovanni” with Hans Vonk and the St. Louis Symphony and recitals with Lorraine Hunt and Amy Burton on the `Great Performers' Series at Lincoln Center. He has also appeared with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, the Israel Philharmonic, Spoleto Italy's Festival dei Due Mondi and Ireland's Wexford Festival, the Ravinia Festival, London's Barbican Centre, the New York City Opera, the Frankfurt Opera, Switzerland's TheatreBasel. Washington Opera and other companies throughout the USA.
An active supporter of contemporary music, Mr. Trakas has given the world premieres of David del Tredici's “Three Songs” at Weill Recital Hall (with the composer as pianist, recorded for release by CRI); Wallace and Korie's “Hopper's Wife” (Long Beach Opera); and Marek Zebrowski's “Leaving Alexandria” (Teatro Carlo Felice). During his career he has been honored to sing first performances by many other distinguished composers including William Bolcom, Earl Kim, Gian Carlo Menotti and John Musto. He recently recorded (Nonesuch) the music of Ricky Ian Gordon along with Dawn Upshaw, Audra MacDonald, Judith Blazer and Adam Guettel and sang on Lincoln Center's “American Songbook” presentation of Mr. Gordon's music at Alice Tully Hall in March.
Born in Charlotte North Carolina and raised in St. Petersburg, Florida, Mr. Trakas holds degrees in organ and music history (B.A. Eckerd College) and voice (M.M., University of Houston). His teachers have included Elena Nikolaidi, Jan DeGaetani, Bonnie Hamilton, Glenn Parker, Arthur Levy and Myron McPherson. Formerly on the music faculty at the North Carolina School of the Arts, Mr. Trakas is a frequent guest instructor at the Juilliard School where he has covered the songs of Mahler, Brahms, Wolf, Ravel and Barber.
Originally from Eugene, Oregon, conductor and pianist Jennifer Peterson has held positions with numerous opera companies, including Austin Lyric Opera, Connecticut Opera, the Israel Vocal Arts Institute in Tel Aviv, Opera Memphis, Virginia Opera, Greater Miami Opera, Mississippi Opera, Opera Idaho, Chautauqua Opera, Berkshire Opera, Lake George Opera Festival, Henry Street Chamber Opera, Dicapo Opera Theatre, Delaware Valley Opera, Inspiration Point Fine Arts Colony, and serves as Music Director for the Vital Theatre Company, an off-off-Broadway black box theater.
Ms. Peterson holds Music Performance Degrees from the Oberlin Conservatory of Music and the Indiana University School of Music and has completed doctoral work in Piano Accompanying and Chamber Music at the Eastman School of Music in Rochester, New York, where she co-founded the Rochester Chamber Opera in 1992.
Ms. Peterson holds diverse musical interests outside of opera: she has collaborated extensively with living composers on new works, and is actively involved in Historical Performance as a harpsichordist and continuo player. Ms. Peterson is also an accomplished violinist.
Richard Howard is the author of eleven volumes of poetry, including No Traveller (Knopf, 1981), from which Colored Stones is taken. He teaches at Columbia University and lives in New York City.
The Stranger, Grief, Three Rivers, and orchestral parts to This World is not Conclusion recorded at the Slovak Radio, Bratislava - Frantisek Poul, producer; choral parts to This World is not Conclusion recorded at Sound on Sound Studios, New York - Don Hunerberg, engineer; USA Stories recorded at Avatar Studios, New York - Adrian Carr, engineer. Colored Stones recorded at Adrian Carr Music Designs - Adrian Carr, engineer.
Edited and mixed at Adrian Carr Music Designs; additional editing of This World is not Conclusion by Thomas Hamilton.
Mastered at Adrian Carr Music Designs
Photograph of Michael Dellaira © Star Black, 111 E. 36 St. New York, NY 10016
Photograph of Joel Eric Suben by Christian Steiner
This CD is dedicated to my wife Brenda Wineapple, the best listener I know,
the only listener I need.
1 The Stranger, Grief [10:24]
Joel Eric Suben, conductor
4 The Campers at Kitty Hawk [2:45]
Joel Eric Suben, conductor
This World is not Conclusion [12:43]
6 Crisis is a Hair [2:45]
8 This World is not Conclusion [2:55]
9 Heart! We will forget him! [4:34]
Joel Eric Suben, conductor
Chris Pedro Trakas, baritone
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