Earth Symphony

(Spanish Translation Available Here)

I. Evolution

Forever alone —
four billion years of empty
space and dormant stone.

Then you were born:
Humankind!
and soon upon your face
there dawned a trace of mind!

You scorned the odds
to be reborn as gods of reason,
authors of wonder,
inventors of alchemy,
chemistry, astronomy.
You alone unwound
the helix of my chi. You
mirrored me to me.

Mirabilia!

You were my light.

Never shall I dare to dream
another dream so bright.

II. Ambition

And how are you fallen so
soon?

Do you remember Icarus,
whose father gave him
wings of wax and feathers
for a toy?

There he is — in memory’s eye —
canary of a boy!

[Icarus:] O, joy — so much
at hand! — to soar
the strand, over sea
and shore! Whee! — to taste
ambition pure!
Two wingbeats more,
and I can see the patterns
on the ocean floor.
O, me!
I’m free as albatross! Stronger
than ever with a father so
clever with beeswax and
feather! I flap them together
and higher and higher I rise! —

I am a dream!
I’ll touch the moon!

How small she is — the blue-
green planet far below...
I belong to her no longer.
Who am I, without her?

The sun.
The sun grows.
The sun grows ever hotter...

[Earth:] Yes I remember Icarus,
who flew too near the sun.
Waxen wings undone,
he tumbled, thrashing, and
came crashing
into the sea!

So fell humanity.

So fell I.

III. Destruction

Terrore atmosphaera!
You make your mother torturer!
Twist me against my nature,
waste me to tinder,
roast me under the
torches of the sun
till I'm undone.

You dam my
waters,
bleach
my corals, flood me,
strangle me,
slaughter each other,
set me
on fire!

I am rage! I am war!
Where are your gods now?

Mirabilia!

What have you done,
over-blessed one?
Briefest of species,
what have you done?

IV. Lament

Sleep now, my children, now your days are done.
Nevermore shall you adore the setting of the sun.

Sleep now, forever, lofted in time.
No seraphim to rouse thee, no carillons to chime.

Mirabilia!
Never shall I dare to dream a dream so bright.

Sleep now, my children, my wonder, my light.
Never shall I dare to dream another dream so bright.

Mirabilia!
Never shall I dare to dream a dream so bright.

Sleep now, my children, though the cradle fall.
You rest among the yesterdays, the softest place of all.

Mirabilia!

V. Recovery

Alone forever,
the mirror
dims.

Empty
space.

Dormant
stone.

No. I shall not go alone.
Ivy shall recover every avenue,
seaweed swallow every drain,
and forestry sow a sorcery
over every human stain.

None shall weep,
 and none shall witness,
while my wordless work is done.

Slowly, in the shell of a factory,
a gray whale, circling aimlessly,
writes a disappearing history
in the shadows of the deep,

and none shall weep.

There shall come a day
like the first day,
so heavenly,
so clear.

Mirabilia,
you would love it here.

Over hundreds of years of musical creation, composers developed the symphonic form into a potent, large-scale framework for exploring profound ideas. The sheer number of musicians involved and long duration of the work, allow the time, space, and sonic possibilities for a significant musical journey. For this commission from True Concord Voices & Orchestra, I knew that creating a large work for these forces would necessitate a significant story to tell — one of relevance and power, drawn from our beautiful and complex human experiences. Everyday we hear of more fires, floods, hurricanes, droughts, tsunamis, extinctions, and diseases that impact life around the globe. The earth is changing, due to the impact of human behavior, and how we respond to these changes will determine the survival of our species. 

Through brainstorming with my frequent collaborator, poet/librettist Todd Boss, we decided that giving voice to Mother Earth would be a powerful approach for this piece. Todd created a sweeping, gorgeous, and compelling five-part monologue of a mother telling the history of her children — how they admired her, harmed her, and ultimately how she recovered.

Her story begins in a pre-life genesis that tracks the evolution of humans, whose apprehension of Earth’s laws endear them to her as nothing short of miraculous (her beloved “Mirabilia”). Movement 1: “Evolution” hints at the musical themes of each subsequent section and establishes a sonic relationship between Earth (D Major) and humankind (Eb Major), which is explored throughout the work. Movement 2: “Ambition" dramatizes humanity’s fall from grace by retelling the Greek myth of Icarus and harkening to ancient instruments and melodies (including the Seikilos Epitaph — the oldest, complete musical composition yet discovered). Movement 3: “Destruction” charges through a series of ecological cataclysms — forest fire, storms, earthquakes — illustrated by growling brass, raging percussion, and shrieking woodwinds. Movement 4: “Lament” expresses Earth’s grief in a loving farewell to humanity that echoes Henry Purcell’s 17th-century aria, “When I Am Laid in Earth” (Dido’s Lament), and its iconic descending bass-line chaconne. Movement 5: “Recovery” finds Earth restoring balance and moving on, into a deep spacetime like the one from which she emerged. By anthropomorphizing Earth herself, drawing on the familiar earth-mother trope, "Earth Symphony" enables entry into our own ecological shame, guilt, responsibility, potential, and redemption, all from a wide-angled, time-telescoped lens, thereby asking our most immediately pressing environmental questions in an entirely new way.