Cycles of Resistance

Chelsea Hollow & Taylor Chan
January 28th, 2022

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Concert Program & Timeline of Events

 Tonight’s concert follows activist movements from around the world from 1906-present day.
* world premiere

Sophie Xuefei Zhang (b1987)

Two Poems by Qiu Jin


I. Qiū Hǎi Táng
II. Mǎn Jiāng Hóng*
—   China (1906)  
Anthony R. Green (b1984)

Zachte Krachten*

—   The Netherlands (1921)  
Michael Wiener (b1975)

Ma’agal*

—   Czechoslovakia (1943)  
Myron Silberstein (b1974)

Prayers for Peace*


I. As-salāmu ‘alaykum
—   Islamic Prayer  

 Intermission

Jason Cady (b1974)

I Could Not Allow That To Stand  

—   United States (2020)  
Lauren McCall (b1986)

Living Water*


I. River Flow
II. She Doesn’t Trust The Water
III. Living Water
—   Flint, MI (2014-2019)  
Molly Joyce (b1992)

The Beauty of Disability*

—   United States (present day)  
Özden Gülsün (b1983)

Al kan kuşak*


I. Kadınlar tanıdım
II. Ben, Zeynep.
III. Bir Dünya Kadındır
IV. Ben, Ayşe.
V. Ben de eskiden kız çocuğuydum
VI. Ben, Fatma.
VII. Başka Kadınlar
—   Turkey (present day)  
Myron Silberstein (b1974)

Prayers for Peace*


III. Śānti-Pāțha
—   Vedic Chant  

Your Location (present day)

Tonight's program has come to an end, but your ability to get involved continues on! I’ve compiled a page of resources to help you get informed and involved.
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 Program Notes

  • Early in the Covid-19 Pandemic, desperate to connect with artists once again, I created a Call for Proposals with the intention of bringing together composers and librettists from around the globe to create inspiring works grounded in activism and resilience; my hope was to inform and inspire the healing of societal wounds through the empathy we experience as a recital audience. Tonight’s concert program is almost entirely those commissions with a couple of added works that fit the theme.

    The program chronologically explores poetry and texts of resilience and rebellion throughout the 20th and 21st centuries. We begin in China around 1906 and move through Marxist poetry of the Netherlands to the bonding hope of young girls during the holocaust and end the first half with a meditation on Peace. The second half brings us into modern day activism with harrowing narratives from the Turkish Femicide, the Flint Michigan Water Crisis, the fight for disability rights, and Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s response to the harassment she faced on the steps of the Capitol.

    The entire program is receiving it’s world premiere tonight excepting for “Autumn Begonia” which I premiered in my last solo recital in 2019 and “I Could Not Allow That To Stand” which was premiered virtually as a part of my presentation for The United Nations’ Discussion on Human Rights, Arts, & Protest.

    -Chelsea Hollow

  • These two pieces are set on the poems by Qiu Jin, a Chinese revolutionary and feminist, who, not only lived but also died for what she believed in. “Qiū Hǎi Táng” (Autumn Begonia) is dictated by simple melodic lines that are composed in accordance with the inflections of the different tones of spoken Chinese in order to convey a sense of strength and determination in quietude, as Qiu Jin becomes aware of the choice a woman is/should be able to make on her own without any “protection” of a man. In “Mǎn Jiāng Hóng” (A River of Blossoms), elements of the sound of Guqin overshadow a supposedly joyous time of Mid-Autumn Festival as Qiu Jin’s determination to join the revolutionary cause grows ever more explicit and ferocious despite her identity as a woman.

    -Sophie Xuefei Zhang

  • As a social justice artist with a deep appreciation and love for historical figures who are not widely known and celebrated, I am constantly researching activists and other socially important and relative figures who are not widely celebrated, but definitely beloved and respected in niche circles. For the Cycles of Resistance project organized by Chelsea Hollow, I chose to set a Dutch sonnet written by Henriette Roland Holst for high soprano and piano.

    Also known as "Aunt Jet", Henriëtte Roland Holst-van der Schalk (1869-1952) was a Dutch poet and socialist. She was active in some of the main Marxist parties, where she met and collaborated with known activists such as Rosa Luxemburg and Leon Trotski. Despite her bouts with various sicknesses (depression, anorexia, anemia, and heart disease, among others), she constantly and diligently fought for better rights and protections for laborers, youth, and women. She worked for the resistance newspaper De Vonk (the sparkle), and was also active in bettering the lives of Indonesian immigrants in the Netherlands, both before and after Indonesian independence. As her life progressed, she grew more and more religious, but never lost her socialist intentions. While beloved for her poetry, she also wrote plays, biographies (of Rousseau, Gandhi, and Tolstoy), articles and other pieces of journalism, and radio plays. Her work was recognized by many prizes, including an honorary doctorate from the University of Amsterdam in 1947.

    Zachte Krachten is a musical representation and intimation of this beloved sonnet by Aunt Jet. It speaks of how "soft powers" always win, and how the movement of every entity on the earth is towards love. This beautiful vision is one that is especially needed in the year 2020, a year that feels as though a grand end to humanity is imminent. In my setting, I use limited gestures and intervals as an extended leitmotif, symbolizing the main ideas within the sonnet. Musically, I utilize the register extremities of both the voice and the piano, but the music harmonically and registrally climbs towards an upper, celestial pitch area, which - for me - is symbolic and reminiscent of love.

    -Anthony R. Green

  • The piece Ma’agal for soprano and prepared piano is based on texts written by young girls (12-14 years old) who lived between 1942 and 1944 in room 28 of the girls’ home L 410 in the Theresienstadt concentration camp. Their life and thoughts are portrayed in the book by Hannelore Brenner, The Girls of Room 28: Friendship, Hope, and Survival in Theresienstadt (New York: Schocken, 2009). The girls of room 28 had the following motto, which was like an incantation or secret password, “You believe me – I believe you. You know what I know, whatever may happen, you won’t betray me – I won’t betray you.”

    Furthermore, the girls of room 28 created their own flag with a white circle around two clasped hands, which symbolized ‘circle’ and ‘perfection’ (Ma’agal in Hebrew). They also wrote their own anthem, which they had set to the melody of the Czech folk song ‘Ach padá, padá rosička’ (‘The Dew Is Falling’): “We want to be united…we have come here, but our hope…is to return home again…We shall drive every evil away and won’t go home until we have…We clasp each other’s hands and sing this anthem of our home.”

    The song Ma’agal starts with a rhythmic ostinato of the motto by the girls of room 28. This motto, spoken and sung initially in 3/4 time, gradually blends into the anthem in 4/4 time and the word ma’agal, depicting the circle of perfection, as well as the chromatic tones spelling out the name B-A-C-H. The anthem’s second verse is sung ad libitum layering the Hebrew folk song “Rachel”, the Slovak national anthem “Nad Tatrou sa blýska”, the Lutheran chorale “Nun danket alle Gott” and sound clusters on various melodies which had been used by the composer Viktor Ullmann (1898-1944), who was also incarcerated in Theresienstadt. The last verse of the song ‘Ma’agal’ then combines all these melodies simultaneously, with small musical adaptations, for example by setting the Lutheran chorale in minor. Yet in the end, the final chord turns into G major on the texts ‘We clasp each other’s hands and sing this anthem of our home’ and ‘Rachel – mother of mothers’. The last three bars also encode the names H-E-La-G-A (Helga Kinsky wrote a diary of her time in room 28), F-La-A-eS-C-Hk-A (Anna Hanusová, née Flachová noted down the hymn) and H-An-D-A (Handa Drori wrote the hymn’s text).

    -Michael Wiener

  • The murder of George Floyd added a new layer of hopelessness to a country that was already, in my opinion, irreparably damaged by reality-TV posturing having hijacked political debate and by COVID-19’s escalating victory over a population that values the freedom to cough on each other over the civic ethic that shrinks from killing each other. Hopeless as I felt, I also felt inadequate to the times; too frightened of both COVID-19 and of police violence to join a protest and not in a financial position to give more than nominal support to organizations or political candidates that sought to promote changes I could not personally implement. I found the words of the Oseh Shalom, which I had not recited since my Bar Mitzvah, going through my mind. My setting of the Oseh Shalom came to me more quickly than any other song setting I had previously written. Soon afterward, I set the Śāntipāțha from the Yajurveda, then the apocryphal Prayer of St. Francis, and finally, I wrote a setting of the salutation As-salāmu ‘alaikum. These four prayers petition for peace in four subtly different ways: As-salāmu ‘alaikum expresses the desire that the Other—the person whom the speaker encounters—experience the deity’s peace and blessing. Oseh Shalom requests that the deity create peace not only in “the high places” but for us and throughout the community as well. The Śāntipāțha is a methodical, meditative acknowledgement of peace throughout the universe, from the heavens to the earth to the plants to the waters and even within peace itself; it then expresses the desire for the speaker to experience that very peace. The Prayer of St. Francis, which I chose to close the cycle, requests that the speaker be an instrument to make peace proliferate and to turn hate to love.

    Throughout my writing, I was painfully aware my setting of these prayers for peace is not a substitute for practical action. One of the things that horrifies me most about our current moment in history is our leaders’ preference for “thoughts and prayers” over legislation, the job they were ostensibly hired to do. If a deity does indeed exist, I doubt that it appreciates being asked to provide interventions that we could provide for ourselves.

    I have never been a victim of racial violence or of any other form of institutional oppression. How fatuous for a white guy working from home as the country self-destructs around him to “respond” via art-song settings of arcane texts. So all I can say is: my Prayers for Peace is something I felt an inner compulsion to write. Not so much in answer to the times but rather at a time when I did not feel drawn to any texts but these. I hope the cycle will speak to its listeners both now and at any other time that it may be heard.

    -Myron Silberstein

  • On July 21, 2020 Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez made a speech that linked the rise in crime in New York City to the rise in poverty due to the Covid-19 pandemic. Afterward, Florida Representative Ted Yoho called her "disgusting" and a "fucking bitch." Reporters from The Hill overheard the exchange and wrote about it. The next day Yoho gave a non-apology to Congress. He denied his comments, and claimed that having a wife and daughters made him “cognizant of his language.” He ended with the inane assertion that he “cannot apologize for my passion, or for loving my god, my family, and my country.” On July 23, AOC responded on the House floor with a speech that went viral. She said that she was not “waiting for an apology, but what I do have issue with is using women—our wives and daughters—as shields and excuses for poor behavior.” Her words resonated with women and the targets of bullies everywhere. This song condenses AOC’s response.

    Sections of her speech felt either like recitative or aria and I wrote the melodies accordingly—much of it with Lydian and Pelog scales. I've developed some rhythmic approaches to setting text over the last few years in my operas. And in this piece I tried them out in 6/8. This was partly because I was thinking about the popularity of the “triplet flow” in hip hop. I based the form of the piece on the modulation structure of Giant Steps by John Coltrane.

    Lisa Eldredge & Concert Rebels co-commissioned I Could Not Allow That to Stand under the direction of soprano, Chelsea Hollow and I composed it for her. She premiered selections of it online at a webinar on Arts and Activism hosted by the UN’s Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights, February 11, 2020.

    -Jason Cady

  • Living Water is a three-movement work for solo soprano, piano, and electronics. The first movement “River Flow” was created to present part of the story of what happened as the beginning of the Flint Water Crisis unfolded, the second movement “She doesn’t trust the water” was created to express the frustration community members felt, and the third movement “Living Water” was created to inspire a call to action. Each movement of Living Water begins with electronics as a way to mirror the experiences of the community members of Flint and others who have gone through hardships. Oftentimes we cannot control what life brings to us, but we must keep responding and working to make those situations better.

    The electronics were made in Max/MSP, where a machine learning model was trained on data of Flint Water Blood Lead Level Testing Results. This data was first funneled through a Max/MSP object called makenote, and sent to Ableton through a noteout object, where it was formed into a MIDI file. Then the MIDI file was fed through a ml.markov object in Max/MSP. This is a stochastic model and the MIDI notes were used to train this model and build new note sequences based off of the probability of the original note sequence. The resulting sounds were further shaped through the addition of effects and instrumental timbres in Ableton.

    -Lauren McCall

  • The Beauty of Disability honors legendary disability activist Judith Heumann, recognized internationally as a leader in the disability community and lifelong advocate, more recently publishing her memoir Being Heumann, released in February 2020 on Beacon Press and she was also featured in the recent Netflix documentary Crip Camp, released in March 2020. The work highlights Heumann's ongoing efforts with disability rights, and specifically her emphasis on the universality of disability as the largest yet perhaps most unacknowledged global minority (15% according to 2011 WHO/World Bank report) and available to all as born, acquired, permanent, and temporary. This is represented through her statements such as “we needed to fight back people's view that if you had a disability, you needed to be cured, that equality was not part of the equation” and “I encourage you all to recognize that disability is a family you can join at any point in your life.”

    The work includes textual elements from a personal interview with Heumann, as well contributions from writer Marco Grosse and composer Molly Joyce.

    -Molly Joyce

  • When I saw Chelsea's Call for Proposals, the first thing that came to my mind were the women murdered by men in Turkey. You can see lists of their names at www.anitsayac.com. Anıt Sayaç means "the monument" in Turkish. It is a digital counter for all of the women who died because of domestic violence. In Turkey and much of the Middle East, these abusers and murderers find protection from the state and their communities because it is seen as a domestic affair. But these are murders and everyone who remains silent is an accomplice. These women, killed by their husbands, fathers, brothers, and sweethearts no longer have a voice and I thought, we have to be their voice. I didn't only want to commemorate them, I also wanted to celebrate the protests, especially the Night March held annually on March 8th; these protestors have been fighting for these deaths to be recognized and treated with equal justice to non-domestic murders and violence. My dear friend, Didem Gülçin Erdem, created the libretto. You will hear the stories and pain of several women throughout the work as well as recordings of protest chants and the police intervention of those protests.

    This work is important to me because it represents more than just the women of Turkey, but the global community of women who have suffered domestic violence. “Al kan kuşak” means "The Bloody Red Belt" which is a striking image of domestic violence, but in the Turkish language, it also represents the cycles of abuse that can bind one generation to the next. Turkish women and women around the world are all bound by this sad belt. This song cycle is dedicated to all the women killed by men and all women who oppose it. Thanks to the brave protesters and the monument counter, these women are no longer anonymous deaths, but a powerful symbol for which we fight.

    -Özden Gülsün

  • Qiu Jin (1875-1907)

    栽植恩深雨露同,一丛浅淡一丛浓。
    平生不借春光力,几度开来斗晚风?

  • Qiu Jin (1875-1907)

    小住京华,早又是中秋佳节。
    为篱下黄花开遍,秋容如拭。
    四面歌残终破楚,八年风味徒思浙。
    苦将侬强派作蛾眉,殊未屑!

    身不得,男儿列,心却比,
    男儿烈!算平生肝胆,
    不因人常热。俗子胸襟谁识我?
    英雄末路当折磨。
    莽红尘何处觅之音?青衫湿!

  • Henriëtte Roland Holst (1869-1952)

    De zachte krachten zullen zeker winnen
    in ’t eind -- dit hoor ik als een innig fluistren
    in mij: zo ’t zweeg zou alle licht verduistren
    alle warmte zou verstarren van binnen.

    De machten die de liefde nog omkluistren
    zal zij, allengs voortschrijdend, overwinnen,
    dan kan de grote zaligheid beginnen
    die w’als onze harten aandachtig luistren

    in alle tederheden ruisen horen
    als in kleine schelpen de grote zee.
    Liefde is de zin van ’t leven der planeten,
    en mense’, en diere’. Er is niets wat kan storen
    ’t stijgen tot haar. Dit is het zeekre weten:
    naar volmaakte Liefde stijgt alles mee.

  • The Girls of Room 28

    Věříš mi – věřím ti, víš a vím,
    buď jak buď, nezradíš –nezradím.

    My chceme jeden celek být
    chceme se vesměs rádi mít
    chceme a budem,
    přišli jsme a půjdem,
    chceme se domů navrátit.

    My půjdem proti zlému
    klestíme cestu dobrému,
    my zlo zatratíme,
    dřív se nevrátíme,
    pak zazpíváme píseň svou:

    Ma’agal musí zvítězit,
    nás k dobré cestě obrátit,
    ruce si podáme,
    pak si zazpíváme
    hymnu našeho domova.

    Nun danket alle Gott
    mit Herzen, Mund und Händen,
    der uns von Mutterleib
    und Kindesbeinen an

  • Islamic Prayer of Peace
    السلام عليكم ورحمة الله وبركاته

    Vedic Prayer of Peace
    ॐ द्यौः शान्तिरन्तरिक्षं शान्तिः
    पृथिवी शान्तिरापः शान्तिरोषधयः शान्तिः ।
    वनस्पतयः शान्तिर्विश्वेदेवाः शान्तिर्ब्रह्म शान्तिः
    सर्वं शान्तिः शान्तिरेव शान्तिः सा मा शान्तिरेधि ॥
    ॐ शान्तिः शान्तिः शान्तिः ॥

  • Didem Gülçin ERDEM (b1989)

    I.
    Kararsın diye gözleri durup bekleyen kadınlar tanıdım
    Çıkılacak sanıyorlardı kuyudan derin söyledikçe
    Evlerde işe yaramayan şeyler vardı
    Mandal takımları ve ipler ve anneler
    BİLMEKLER, GİTMEKLER, ÖLMEKLER
    Bir evin yüklüğü olmak nedir, bildik.

    II.
    Benim adım Zeynep.
    Ben Zeynep, annemin gölgesinden doğdum
    Babamın dinmez öfkesinden
    Bir kadının yedinci kızı olarak doğdum
    Aldım annemin gözlerini kendi yüzüme koydum
    İnsanın içi durmadan nasıl kanar, bildim.

    III.
    Annem limon kabuğundan kendi Türkçesini yapıyor
    Henüz eklem ağrısı yok (ondan bunca morluğu)
    Bir kadın en fazla beyaz olabilir
    Faytona binmişse, yelkovan.
    YANLARI AĞRIYAN BİR DÜNYA KADINDIR
    “İçim ağrıyor!” diyen de annem

    IV.
    Benim adım Ayşe.
    Ben Ayşe, penceresi göğe açılmayan Ayşe
    Ne istediği hiç sorulmayan Ayşe
    Kırk kat perdeyle örttüler üstümü
    Herkes bir avuç toprak attı yüzüme
    Toprak kanla nasıl renk alır, bildim.

    V.
    Ben de eskiden kız çocuğuydum bacakları olan
    BEN DE ESKİDEN BİR SAK SI BİR ISIRGAN
    Beni siz üfleyip soğumam için hanım hanım
    Sabah uyanmaklar, akşam neredesin’ler
    Dur o kuşağı beline o kuşağı geçmişine ve de
    Dur ben canımı boynuna
    Dur canım burnumda ve de
    BEN DE BİR KADININ BOŞLUĞUNDAN DOĞDUM
    Kendimi biraz suladım, mor menekşe oldum.

    VI.
    Benim adım Fatma.
    Ben Fatma, iri, kara bir el kapattı ağzımı
    Göğsüme ölüm çullandı
    Daha göğü emzirecektim, daha kendim büyüyecektim
    Kendimin kırkıncı katından içime atladım
    Tıknefes bir hayat nasıl yaşanır, bildim
    Daha göğü emzirecektim, önce kendim büyüyecektim

    VII.
    Bir Anadolu kadınına güneş dedim, boynundaki ortaçağı gösterdi
    SEKİZ TONLUK AİLE SAADETİ ALTINDA EZİLDİ BİR BAŞKA KADIN
    — Gülünya, İpek, Ceylan
    Birden bir yoksulluk oldu sonra ekimin sekizi şubatın yirmi sekizi gibi
    — Yasemin, Hande, Canan
    Hiç topuklu ayakkabı giymemişinden
    — Hülya, Gamze, Özgecan
    Hiç heves etmemişinden, Hiç heves nedir bilmeyeninden
    Yoksulluk en çok kadına olur bildim.

  • Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez

    Two days ago I was walking up the steps of the capitol, when Representative Yoho accosted me, put his fingers in my face;
    He called me disgusting.
    He called me crazy.
    He called me out of my mind.
    He called me dangerous.
    And I quote, “a fucking bitch.”

    These were the words that Rep. Yoho levied against a congresswoman. The congresswoman that not only represents New York’s 14th congressional district, but every woman in this country. Because all of us have had to deal with this in some form, some way, some shape, at some point in our lives.

    Representative Yoho’s comments were not deeply hurtful to me because I have worked a working class job. I have waited tables in restaurants. I have ridden the subway. I have walked the streets of New York City. I have tossed men out of bars. This kind of language is not new, and that is the problem.

    Mr. Yoho was not alone; he was walking with Rep. Roger Williams. This is not about one incident; it is a culture of impunity, of accepting violence and violent language against women, and a structure of power that supports that; because not only have I been spoken to disrespectfully by members of the Republican party, but the President told me to “go home to another country.” Governor DeSantis called me a “whatever-that-is.” Dehumanizing language is not new; incidents like these happen in a pattern.

    I honestly thought I was just going to pack it up and go home. It’s just another day, right?

    But then yesterday Rep. Yoho decided to make excuses for his behavior; and that I could not let go.

    I couldn’t allow my nieces—I couldn’t allow the little girls that I go home to— I could not allow victims of verbal abuse and worse to see that excuse, and to see our congress accept it as legitimate. I could not allow that to stand.

    I will not stay up late waiting for an apology, but what I do have issue with is using women—our wives and daughters—as shields and excuses for poor behavior.

    Mr. Yoho mentioned that he has a wife and two daughters. I am someone’s daughter, too.

    My father, thankfully, is not alive to see how Mr Yoho treated his daughter. My mother got to see Mr. Yoho’s disrespect on the floor of this House towards me.

    In using that language in front of the press, he gave permission to use that language against his wife, his daughters, women in his community; and I am here to stand up to say, that is not acceptable.

    I will not allow people to create hatred in our hearts. Having a daughter does not make a decent man. Having a wife does not make a decent man. Treating people with dignity and respect makes a decent man.

  • Lauren McCall

    I. River Flow
    River flow, a story to tell
    Little did we know what you contain;
    Turn of a switch, a toast to change,
    —but at what cost?

    Winter of ‘14, summer of ‘15,
    we suspect there’s poison in the water.
    Fall of ‘14, spring of ‘15,
    What will it take to be heard?

    River flow, a story to tell
    Little did we know what you contain;
    With the signing of a pen, our lives were changed.
    Why does it come to this cold hard cash?
    Can you hear our cries?
    Fall of ‘14, spring of ‘15,
    What will it take to be heard?

    Winter of ‘14, summer of ‘15,
    we suspect there’s poison in the water.
    What does it take? What will it take to be heard?

    River flow, a story to tell,
    Leaching lead into our bones

    II. She Doesn’t Trust The Water
    She doesn’t trust the water.
    Weariness echoing, like my voice within.
    “I don’t want it, mama.”
    Is that her voice or the one inside?

    Days roll by, but still
    I remember how officials say it’s clean;
    Still my baby struggles to breathe.

    She doesn’t trust the water.
    Weariness echoing, like my voice within.
    “I don’t want it, mama.”
    Is that her voice or the one inside?

    Days roll by, but still
    I remember how officials say it’s clean;
    Still my baby’s so ill.

    I don’t trust officials, or the water.
    This is my voice, same as the one within
    We want clean water. Our voices sing as one.
    Time passes by but still I remember.

    III. Living Water
    Let it start with my steps, let it begin.
    I will walk beside you through the troubles and pain.

    Let us walk Living Water, strength never failing;
    Fountains will never run dry;
    A reckoning Living Water, strength never failing; Inequity, rectified.

    Let our lives be redemption to the neglect.
    Let our lives speak volumes, our actions justice provide

    Let us walk Living Water, strength never failing;
    Fountains will never run dry;
    A reckoning Living Water, strength never failing;
    Inequity, rectified

    Your struggles, your pain
    will no longer be ignored,
    we’ll keep walking ‘till justice is restored.

    Let us walk Living Water, strength never failing;
    Fountains will never run dry;
    A reckoning Living Water, strength never failing; Inequity, rectified.

  • Judith Heumann, Marco Grosse, and Molly Joyce

    I encourage you all to recognize
    that disability is a family
    that you can join at any point in your life.

    There is nothing uniform
    only diversity
    but there is commonality
    of humanity
    of plurality
    of one minority
    of disability.

    What does it mean to be the same,
    or different?

    What does it mean to be looked at,
    as not the same by them.
    Looked as an illness not as a disability. We are denied opportunities
    based on perception of who we are.
    There is commonality of humanity
    there is one plurality
    of minority
    of diversity
    of disability.

    Won’t you come join at any time?
    Won’t you come join in your life?

  • Qiu Jin (1875-1907)
    translation by Chelsea Hollow

    My love, planted and watered together with rain and dew.
    一One shrub: clarity
    一Another shrub: density

    In this one life, I will not borrow power from the light of Spring. Blooming on my own and fighting the night wind.

    Rain and dew? No,
    一 power of Spring.

  • Qiu Jin (1875-1907)
    translation by Chelsea Hollow

    A brief stay in the splendid big city, it is already The Mid-Autumn Festival. Under the fences, yellow flowers are blooming away the visage of autumn, as if freshly washed. From all around there is song and celebration, an abrupt shift from the pain of war. The distinct taste of 8 years at war still lingers; all the time longing for Zhejiang (her home). But at home, I was forced into the role of the beautiful, unyielding housewife and that life destroys my essence.

    My female body may not be the form of a warrior; my heart, however, is the very form of the fiercest of them all! I am more than just the body you see; we all are. How can such unimaginative minds really understand me? A hero must withstand persecution, in the end. In the thick weeds of humanity, where can I find my soulmate? My uniform is drenched in tears.

  • translation by Anthony R. Green

    The soft powers shall certainly win
    in the end - I hear this as an internal whispering
    in my soul: if it is silenced, all light will darken
    all warmth will freeze from within.

    It shall with great effort overcome
    the powers that still shackle love;
    Then great salvation can begin;
    we'd hear it rustle, like the ocean

    in tiny seashells, if our hearts
    would devotedly and tenderly listen.
    The deep desire of celestial bodies,
    animals, and people, is love. Nothing can stop
    the thrust towards it. This is certain:
    everything moves towards all-encompassing love.

  • translation by Michael Wiener (2020)

    You believe me – I believe you.
    You know what I know,
    Whatever may happen, you won’t betray me – I won’t betray you.

    We want to be united,
    To stand together, to like each other.
    We have come here, but our hope,
    A hope that shall come true,
    Is to return home again.

    We shall do battle with evil
    And forge the path to the good.
    We shall drive every evil away
    And won’t go home until we have.
    And then we shall sing:

    Ma’agal (Circle/Perfection) must triumph
    And bring us on the path to good.
    We clasp each other’s hands
    And sing this anthem of our home.

    Now thank we all our God,
    with heart and hands and voices,
    Who from our mothers’ love
    and in their kind arms.

  • Islamic Prayer for Peace
    May the peace, mercy, and blessings of Allah be with you.

    Vedic Prayer for Peace
    Om, may there be peace of sky and peace of space;Peace of earth, peace of water, peace of plants, trees, vines;Peace in the heavens, peace of Brahma;May everything be at peace, even peace itself.Come, may peace return even to me.Om, peace, peace, peace.

  • translation by Didem Gülçin ERDEM and Chelsea Hollow

    I.
    I’ve known women who had to wait for dark to escape.
    As deep as they were in their wells, they still thought they could get out.
    At home, there were things that didn't work:
    clothespins and ropes
    — and mothers
    KNOWING, GOING, DYING.
    What it is to carry the burden of a house, we knew.

    II.
    My name is Zeynep.
    I am Zeynep, born from my mother's shadow;
    born of my father's unrelenting rage;
    born the seventh daughter of a woman.
    I took my mother’s eyes and put them on my own face.
    How it feels to live with the pain of internal bleeding, I knew.

    III.
    All my mother knows of the world, she squeezed from lemon peels.
    She doesn’t yet have joint pain, but so many bruises;
    She’s never received gratitude or praise
    — besides the fact that her white body will bring white children.
    But if she rides that carriage too soon, she’s promiscuous.
    THE WORLD IS FULL OF WOMEN WITH ACHING SIDES!
    "It hurts me!" moans my mother.

    IV.
    My name is Ayşe.
    I am Ayşe, a never-opened window, Ayşe.
    Never once asked for anything, Ayşe.
    Forty layers of curtains kept me hidden from the world
    Before everyone threw a handful of dirt,
    Threw it on my face.
    What color you get when you mix dirt with blood, I knew.

    V.
    I used to be a girl with good legs
    I USED TO BE A HOT TEA KETTLE, BREWING PASSION
    You blew on me to cool me off
    — “Be more ladylike!”
    Waking up fresh in the morning, being interrogated
    — “Where were you at night?”
    Stop with the chastity belt; stop binding me to your past;
    And also, stop strangling my life; stop suffocating me;
    And also, I WAS BORN OUT OF A WOMAN EMPTINESS!
    Little by little, I watered myself and became purple violet.

    VI.
    My name is Fatma
    I am Fatma.
    A big black glove shut my mouth.
    I felt the weight of death ravage my chest.
    The only nourishment I could suckle was from the sky.
    My depression dropped me from the fortieth floor to the basement.
    How to live a breathless life, I knew.

    VII.
    I pointed out the sun to an Anatolian woman;
    she pointed out her middle aged neck.
    ANOTHER WOMAN CRUSHED UNDER EIGHT TONS OF FAMILY SUFFERING
    — Gülünya, İpek, Ceylan (names of murdered Turkish women)
    Suddenly there was poverty like the middle of winter…
    — Yasemin, Hande, Canan (names of murdered Turkish women)
    She has never even worn heels…
    — Hülya, Gamze, Özgecan (names of murdered Turkish women)
    She is passion—unrealized, undeveloped, un-nurtured passion.
    Destitute was all a woman could be, I knew.

Performer Biographies

 Composer Biographies

Gratitude

This concert was made possible by a great deal of helpers. Thank you all for your support and generosity of time and energy!

Special thanks to:

  • Old First Concerts for keeping live performance and virtual streaming options available for artists and performers during these last two years;

  • The wonderful composers I’ve been so fortunate to work with over these last few years;

  • Regina, for all your PR guidance, expertise, and time;

  • Maria, for helping me brainstorm and develop Concert Rebels;

  • Madison, for populating the subtitles;

  • Grandma Gracie, Gido, Grandmamá, Grandpa, Aunties, Uncles, & Friends for your virtual childcare!!!!

  • Lisa, for co-commissioning “I Could Not Allow that to Stand”;

  • Elizabeth, for constantly inspiring me to be the best version of myself #BigRamen;

  • Jordan, for partnering with me in life, parenting, and these artistic endeavors which have not only fueled much of my personal artistic expression but are contributing more variety and perspective to the classical song canon.

Cycles of Resistance presented by: