Sympathy - Song cycle - Schachar Regev
"Sympathy" - song cycle
Composer: Schachar Regev
Concert in Stiefel hall, Mannes School of Music, New York, March 10th, 2020.
All poems are part of the MTA Poetry in motion project.
Website: https://www.schacharregev.com/
Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/Schacharregev/
Movements:
I To You by Walt Whitman
II Sympathy by Paul Laurence Dunbar
III There was a man with tongue of wood by Stephen Crane
IV The Owl by Arthur Sze:
V A Coat by William Butler Yeats
VI To You by Walt Whitman
Schachar Regev, composer
Nina Haug, conductor
Kristyna Kustkova, voice
Margaret Sloyer, flute
Dylan James, clarinet
Nina Anderson, bassoon
Andrew Conover, trumpet
Kenneth O'Rourke, percussion
Tal First, violin
Christian Barros, viola
Julie Kim, cello
Conor Riccomini, double bass
Text:
I To You by Walt Whitman:
STRANGER! if you, passing, meet me, and desire to speak to me,
why should you not speak to me?
And why should I not speak to you?
II Sympathy by Paul Laurence Dunbar:
I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;
When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,
And the river flows like a stream of glass;
When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,
And the faint perfume from its chalice steals—
I know what the caged bird feels!
I know why the caged bird beats his wing
Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;
For he must fly back to his perch and cling
When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;
And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars
And they pulse again with a keener sting—
I know why he beats his wing!
I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,—
When he beats his bars and he would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core,
But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings—
I know why the caged bird sings!
III There was a man with tongue of wood by Stephen Crane:
There was a man with tongue of wood
Who essayed to sing,
And in truth it was lamentable.
But there was one who heard
The clip-clapper of this tongue of wood
And knew what the man
Wished to sing,
And with that the singer was content.
IV The Owl by Arthur Sze:
The path was purple in the dusk.
I saw an owl, perched,
on a branch.
And when the owl stirred, a fine dust
fell from its wings. I was
silent then. And felt
the owl quaver. And at dawn, waking,
the path was green in the
May light.
V A Coat by William Butler Yeats:
I made my song a coat
Covered with embroideries
Out of old mythologies
From heel to throat;
But the fools caught it,
Wore it in the world’s eyes
As though they’d wrought it.
Song, let them take it
For there’s more enterprise
In walking naked.
VI To You by Walt Whitman:
STRANGER! if you, passing, meet me, and desire to speak to me,
why should you not speak to me?
And why should I not speak to you?
