Fall Forward

October 31, 2021 @ 2pm

Cherry Street Pier, Philadelphia

 

Philadelphia Composers

How Can I Keep From Singing - Traditional, arr. John Conahan

Jeremiah's Fire - Rollo Dilworth (b. 1970)

Telegram - Jennifer Higdon (b. 1962)

Selections from Elegy for the Earth - Music by Adam Silverman (b. 1973); Text by Susan Gubernat

       Whale Song

       Bee Death

Autumn

World, I Cannot Hold Thee Close Enough - Colin Britt (b. 1985)

Im Herbst - Johannes Brahms (1833-1897); Text by Klaus Groth (1819-1899)

Schöne Fremde - Fanny Hensel (1805-1847)

Die mit Tränen säen werden - Heinrich Schütz (1585-1672)

Take me out to the Ballgame - Text by Jack Norworth (1879-1959); Music by Albert Von Tilzer (1878-1956); arr. Dana K. Fiero (b. 1985)

 

Halloween

A Catch on the Midnight Cats - Michael Wise (1648-1687)

The Cat of Cats -  Carlotta Ferrari (b. 1975)

The Thirsty Vampires - William Hayes (1708-1777)

Soloists: Kim Barroso, Luke Brown, Austin Keller

La Muerte Sonriente (The Smiling Death) - Diana Syrse (b. 1984)

     Soloist: Matt Hall
Cajun: Parker LaMascus
Flute: Nic Handahl
Shakers: Sara Brown, Emily Ballentine Erb

SINGERS:

Kim Barosso
Ann Brown
Luke Brown
Sara H. Brown
Sydney Cason
Jesse Doble
Cameryn Duran
Emily Ballentine Erb
Dana K. Fiero
Allison Fletcher
Andrew Fuller
Matt Hall
Nic Handahl
Robert Hoffman
Emily Hush
Erik James
Austin Keller
Parker LaMascus
David Mao
Tom Meadowcroft
Bonnie Mendelson
Alyssa Mendlein
Kennedy McAlister
Andrew Perricone
Hannah Postel
Casey Swann
Emma Tuohy
Jake Welde
Ben Willis

DONORS:

Eleanor Anderson
Luke and Sara Brown
Mitos Andaya Hart
Victoria Hart
Deb and Chris Swann

St. Mark’s Episcopal Church
St. Augustine Roman Catholic Church

PhilHarmonia is a proud recipient of a grant from the Philadelphia Cultural Fund.

Thank you!

Thank you to the Delaware River Waterfront and the Cherry Street Pier for welcoming us into your beautiful space to sing our first concert in a year and a half.

A special thank you to our devoted donors who have continued their generosity through the pandemic.

Thank you to the city of Philadelphia and the hard-working staff at the Philadelphia Cultural Fund for awarding us an operations grant.

Thank you to all our volunteers, and especially Will Freske for being our amazing greeter.

And finally, thank you to YOU our wonderful audience on this beautiful autumn day!

BOARD OF DIRECTORS:

Amelia Hoover Green, President
Susan Domingos, Vice President
Luke R. Brown, Treasurer
Johanna Etin, Secretary
Ann Brown
Michael Dunn
Emma Tuohy

 

PHILHARMONIA STAFF:

Mitos Andaya Hart, Artistic Director
Sara Harris Brown, Executive Director
Emma Tuohy, Choir Manager
Dana K. Fiero, Music Librarian
Michael Dunn, Website

Poster design by Cameryn Duran

Text and Translations

 

How can I keep from singing                                                                               Traditional melody
Arrangement and original lyrics - John Conahan

My life flows on in endless song,
above earth’s lamentation.
I hear the sweet, though far-off song
that hails a new creation.

Through all the tumult and the strife,
I hear that music calling.
It finds an echo in my soul.
How can I keep from singing?

And should my joys and comforts fade,
the melody is living
Amid the darkness gath’ring round,
Songs in the night are giving.

No storm can shake my inmost calm
while to that refuge clinging.
It casts a healing balm.
how can I keep from singing?

I lift my eyes, the cloud grows thin,
I see the bluest ceiling,
Upon this path I now begin,
The choir in love revealing.

This youth reclaims my haggard heart,
A fountain ever springing,
And of this world I am a part. 
How can I keep from singing?

 

Jeremiah’s Fire                                                                         
Words and Music by Rollo Dilworth
 

Jeremiah said it was jus’ like fire
Shut up in his bones.

Refrain:
Jeremiah said it was jus’ like fire
down in his bones. Yes!
He had the fire to preach the word.
Jeremiah’s fire. Oh! 

Young man Jeremiah, the son of Hilkiah,
was given a mighty gift from the Lord to prophesy.  (Preach it!)
“Tell all generations, and warn all the nations.
If they don’t pray and learn to obey they surely will die!”  Oh!

Prophet Jeremiah, received holy fire,
Challengin’ citizens of the land to turn from sin. (Preach it!)
“Turn from evil labor and give love to your neighbor.”
Turn away from blasphemy or life’s gonna be most empty within! Oh!

 

Telegram                                                                                   
Music by Jennifer Higdon

Telegram to my Career
Not what I meant or thought.
Weather fine. Come home soon.

Telegram from my Career
Splendors untold.
Rain. Will write again.

Telegram from the Past
You left a paintbrush, wet.
Send cash.

Telegram from the Future
Now you have money.
Bring paintbrush & more time.

Telegram from the Canary
It’s not bad, so far.

Telegram from Sancho Panza
I’m starting to see things.
Pack more wine.

Telegram from my Feet
Lighten up!

Telegram from the Sky
I’m the limit.

Telegram from Last Week
I can never catch up.

Telegram from Next Week
They won’t let me wait.

Telegram Smelling Suspiciously
of Rum and Coconut from the Hour lost
at the end of Daylight Savings Time
This time I’m not coming back.

Telegram from the Book
left under the Covers
Do you read me?

Telegram from Cleopatra
Marc’s fine.
Boat race tomorrow.

Telegram to Last Week
I’ll carry you with me.

Telegram to Next Week
Wait.

Telegram from Elvis
Nice shoes.

Telegram to your Lips
Kiss me.

Telegram to the Hour from Daylight Savings Time
(Smelling Suspiciously of Rum and Coconut)
Flight booked. Joining you next week.

Telegram from Telegraph Office
Buy yourself a cell phone.

Telegram from the Library
Silence, please.

Telegram to the President
Peace, peace, peace.

Telegram to Emily Dickinson
We quote you now: Roses, Bees, but—
Yours the Nectar—yours the Dash—

Telegram to God
Message received.

Telegram from Summer
Have you forgotten me?

Telegram from Fall
I’ve changed.

Telegram from Winter
Be there, soon.

Telegram from Hope
Spring’s eternal.

-“Telegram: A Recently Discovered Correspondence” by Jeanne Minahan

 

Two movements from Elegy for the Earth                                                     
Music by Adam Silverman

Whale Song

Seventy gray whales wash ashore
Great bellies empty
Along the California coast

Seventy gray whales wash ashore
Unable to feed
Along the California coast

Seventy: not a magic number
When a million
Species will go missing
Too soon, the death
Of creatures living now

The death of seventy gray whales
That washed ashore
Along the coast of California

-Susan Gubernat

Bee Death

Monsanto, Monsanto
like the world’s
evil beekeeper
blowing
toxic smoke
into the hives:
bees lose their way
back to the combs
back to the queen
and the queen dies alone 

-Susan Gubernat

 

World, I cannot hold thee close enough                                          
Music by Colin Britt

O world, I cannot hold thee close enough!
 Thy winds, thy wide grey skies!
 Thy mists, that roll and rise!

Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag
And all but cry with colour!   That gaunt crag
To crush!   To lift the lean of that black bluff!
World, World, I cannot get thee close enough!

Long have I known a glory in it all,
But never knew I this;
Here such a passion is
As stretcheth me apart,—Lord, I do fear
Thou’st made the world too beautiful this year;
My soul is all but out of me,—let fall
No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call.  

- “ God’s World” by Edna St Vincent Millay          

 

Im Herbst                                                
Music by Johannes Brahms
 

Ernst ist der Herbst. Und wenn die Blätter fallen              
sinkt auch das Herz zu trübem Weh herab.                       
Still ist die Flur, und nach dem Süden wallen                     
die Sänger, stumm, wie nach dem Grab.                            

Bleich ist der Tag, und blasse Nebel schleiern                   
die Sonne wie die Herzen, ein.                                              
Früh kommt die Nacht: denn alle Kräfte feiern,                
und tief verschlossen ruht das Sein.                                      

Sanft wird der Mensch. Er sieht die Sonne sinken,           
er ahnt des Lebens wie des Jahres Schluß.                         
Feucht wird das Aug', doch in der Träne Blinken,
entströmt des Herzens seligster Erguß.                              

 -Klaus Groth

Translation:

In Autumn

Somber is the autumn, and when the leaves fall,
so does the heart sink into dreary woe.
Silent is the meadow and to the south have flown
silently all the songbirds, as if to the grave. 

Pale is the day, and wan clouds veil
the sun as they veil the heart.
Night comes early: for all work comes to a halt
and existence itself rests in profound secrecy. 

Man becomes kindly. He sees the sun sinking,
he realizes that life is like the end of a year.
His eye grows moist, yet in the midst of his tears shines
streaming from the heart a blissful effusion.

 

Schöne Fremde                                                                        
Music by Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel

Es rauschen die Wipfel und schauern,                                
Als machten zu dieser Stund’                                                
Um die halb versunkenen Mauern                                      
Die alten Götter die Rund’.                                                   
Hier hinter den Myrtenbäumen                                           
In heimlich dämmernder Pracht,                                                        
Was sprichst du wirr, wie in Träumen,                                
Zu mir, phantastische Nacht?                                                
Es funkeln auf mich alle Sterne                                             
Mit glühendem Liebesblick,                                                  
Es redet trunken die Ferne                                                    
Wie von künftigem großen Glück!                                          

-Joseph von Eichendorff

Translation:

The treetops rustle and shiver
as if at this hour
about the half-fallen walls
the old gods are making their rounds.
Here, under the myrtle trees,
in secretly darkening splendor,
what do you say so murmuringly,
as if in a dream, to me, fantastic night?
The stars glitter down on me
with glowing, loving gazes,
and the distance speaks tipsily,
it seems, of great future happiness.

 

Die mit Tränen säen                                                               
Music by Heinrich Schütz

Die mit Tränen säen, werden                                                

mit Freuden ernten.                                                               
Sie gehen hin und weinen                                                      

und tragen edlen Samen                                                        
Und kommen mit Freuden                                                                   

und bringen ihre Garben.                                                       

-Psalm 126:5-6   

Translation:

They who sow with tears
will reap with joy.
They go out and weep
and carry worthy seed,
And return with joy
and bring their sheaves.

Take Me out to the Ball Game                                                            
Music by Jack Norwood/Albert von Tilzer
Arranged by Dana K. Fiero

 

Katie Casey was baseball mad,
Had the fever and had it bad.
Just to root for the home town crew,
Ev'ry sou1 Katie blew.
On a Saturday her young beau
Called to see if she'd like to go
To see a show, but Miss Kate said "No,
I'll tell you what you can do:"

Take me out to the ball game,
Take me out with the crowd;
Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack,
I don't care if I never get back.
Let me root, root, root for the home team,
If they don't win, it's a shame.
For it's one, two, three strikes, you're out,
At the old ball game.

Katie Casey saw all the games,
Knew the players by their first names.
Told the umpire he was wrong,
All along,
Good and strong.
When the score was just two to two,
Katie Casey knew what to do,
Just to cheer up the boys she knew,
She made the gang sing this song:

Take me out to the ball game,
Take me out with the crowd;
Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack,
I don't care if I never get back.
Let me root, root, root for the home team,
If they don't win, it's a shame.
For it's one, two, three strikes, you're out,
At the old ball game.

A Catch on Midnight Cats                                                      
Music by Michael Wise

I: Ye Cats that at midnight spit Love at each other
who best feel the Pangs of a passionate Lover,
I appeal to your Scratches and tattered Fur
if the business of Love be no more to Pur.

II: Old Lady Grimalkin with Gooseberry Eyes,
when a Kitten knew something for why she was wise,
You find by experience the Love fit's soon o'er,
Pus, Pus last not long but turns to Cat bore

III: Men ride many miles, Cats tread many Tiles,
both hazard, both hazard their Necks in the fray,
only Cats if they fall from a House or a Wall keep their Feet,
mount their Tails, mount their Tails and away.

 

The Cat of Cats                                                                       
Music by Carlotta Ferrari

I am the cat of cats. I am
The everlasting cat!
Cunning, and old, and sleekas jam,
The everlasting cat!
I hunt vermin in the night
The everlasting cat!
For I see best without the light
The everlasting cat!

-William Brighty Rands

 

The Thirsty Vampires                                                             
Music by William Hayes

The thirsty Vampires, some believe,
Their Graves can pierce and Coffins leave,
To suck poor Mortals dry.

If I’ve the Luck to drink when dead,
My Liquor shan’t be Blood tho’ red.

The Juice of Grapes best suits to me,
To some huge Cask of Wine I’ll be,
I’ll be a Vampire when I dye.

 

La Muerte Sonriente                                                              
Music and Lyrics by Diana Syrse

La muerte que ríe,                                                                   
se viste de recuerdos que                                                      
en flores de tela                                                                       
adornan su cuerpo.                                                                 
Cuerpo de hueso,                                                                    
fino y esbelto.                                                                          

La muerte blanca
de hueso perfecto                                   
espera a ser liberada                                                               
de carne, de sangre, de pulso y de aliento.

La muerte alegre                                                                     
se viste elegante                                                                      
pues viene a encontrarse                                                       
con la vida.                                                                                

La muerte alegre                                                                     
está detrás de cada sonrisa                                                   
y de cada amor perdido                                                                        
que a distintos cielos                                                              
se van dependiendo su destino.                                                         

Nuestros muertos                                                                    
que algún día                                                                            
en nuestra dimensión latieron                                              
entre nosotros caminan en silencio.                                    

Muerte bendita,                                                        
muerte soñada,                                                         
muerte sonriente,                                                     
muerte que canta                                                     
muerte coqueta                                                         
muerte inesperada                                                   
muerte que cruje                                                      
los huesos del alma                                                  

La muerte sonriente                                                 
camina entre ofrendas                                             
y en papel picado                                                      
observa su silueta                                                     

Una noche al año                                                      
calaveras bailan,                                                        
comen, ríen y cantan                                                
y bailamos codo a codo                                            
al compás de la añoranza                                        
de música mexicana.                                                

Aquí crece el caco,                                                    
entre bailes y percusiones                                       
allá la caña dulce,                                                      
entre flautas y flores                                                

La muerte alegre ríe y baila                                     
muerte fría,                                                                
muerte blanca.                                                          

Muerte que ríe                                                          
muerte que canta,                                                    
muerte coqueta,                                                       
muerte inesperada,                                                  
muerte que cruje                                                      
los huesos del alma,                                                 

Porque la muerte entre pan y chocolate                                                                    
no es una ausencia de vida,                                    
es una calavera de azúcar blanca,                            
una flaca con sombrero entre flores                     
naranjas en su cementerio amado.    

    

Translation:

The smiling death is dressed by memories
that are ornamented by flowers made of fabric
Body of bones fine and slender. 

The white death of perfect bones
is waiting to be liberated
from flesh, blood, pulse and breath. 

The cheerful death dresses in an elegant way
because she is going to meet life itself. 

The joyful death remains behind each smile
and behind every lost love that goes to different skies
depending on their faith. 

Our deaths that sometime
beaten in our dimension
walk among us silently.

Sacred death,
a death dreamed by us,
smiling death,
the death that sings,
flirtatious death,
unexpected death,
the death that crumbles the bones of the soul.

The smiling death walks between offerings
and watches her silent in colored confetti.

One night every year skulls dance
eat, laugh and sing
and we dance elbow by elbow
following the beat of nostalgy of Mexican music

In here the cacao grows between dances and percussions.
Over there the sugar between flutes and flowers.

The smiling death laughs and dances
cold death,
white death.

Because death between bread and chocolate
is not an absence of life
it is a skull made of white sugar,
it is a skinny [woman] with a hat between orange flowers that lay on her beloved cemetery.