1. |
White
08:06
|
|||
|
WHITE
Now in the middle of my life
all things are white.
I walk under the trees,
the frayed leaves,
the wide net of noon,
and the day is white.
And my breath is white,
drifting over the patches
of grass and fields of ice
into the high circles of light.
As I walk, the darkness of
my steps is also white,
and my shadow blazes
under me. In all seasons
the silence where I find myself
and what I make of nothing are white,
the white of sorrow,
the white of death.
Even the night that calls
like a dark wish is white;
and in my sleep as I turn
in the weather of dreams
it is the white of my sheets
and the white shades of the moon
drawn over my floor
that save me for morning.
And out of my waking
the circle of light widens,
it fills with trees, houses,
stretches of ice.
It reaches out. It rings
the eye with white.
All things are one.
All things are joined
even beyond the edge of sight.
Mark Strand
(1934-2014)
“White” by Mark Strand. Copyright © Mark Strand, used with permission of The Wylie Agency LLC. All rights reserved.
|
||||
2. |
The Mad Scene
04:12
|
|||
|
THE MAD SCENE
Again last night I dreamed the dream called Laundry.
In it, the sheets and towels of a life we were going to share,
The milk-stiff bibs, the shroud, each rag to be ever
Trampled or soiled, bled on or groped for blindly,
Came swooning out of an enormous willow hamper
Onto moon-marbly boards. We had just met. I watched
From outer darkness. I had dressed myself in clothes
Of a new fiber that never stains or wrinkles, never
Wears thin. The opera house sparkled with tiers
And tiers of eyes, like mine enlarged by belladonna,
Trained inward. There I saw the cloud-clot, gust by gust,
Form, and the lightning bite, and the roan mane unloosen.
Fingers were running in panic over the flute’s nine gates.
Why did I flinch? I loved you. And in the downpour laughed
To have us wrung white, gnarled together, one
Topmost mordent of wisteria,
As the lean tree burst into grief.
James Merrill
(1926-1995)
“The Mad Scene” © 2008 by James Merrill, used with permission of The Wylie Agency LLC. All rights reserved.
|
||||
3. |
||||
|
I AM LEARNING TO ABANDON THE WORLD
I am learning to abandon the world
before it can abandon me.
Already I have given up the moon
and snow, closing my shades
against the claims of white.
And the world has taken
my father, my friends.
I have given up melodic lines of hills,
moving to a flat, tuneless landscape.
And every night I give my body up
limb by limb, working upwards
across bone, towards the heart.
But morning comes with small
reprieves of coffee and birdsong.
A tree outside the window
which was simply shadow moments ago
takes back its branches twig
by leafy twig.
And as I take my body back
the sun lays its warm muzzle on my lap
as if to make amends.
Linda Pastan
(b. 1932)
Rights granted by Linda Pastan c/o the Jean V. Naggar Literary Agency, Inc. The work was originally published in “PM/AM” (W.W. Norton, 1982).
|
||||
4. |
Here
04:00
|
|||
|
HERE
I lie in the last color left
from the other life—
bone white.
Everything emptied out of the room
because tomorrow the new light
with its new weight
will move in.
Wherever something had been left hanging
for too long, precise stains
remain: windows with no view,
or close-ups of bone,
which is not white
and not solid
but as full of openings
as the transformable space
between trees,
between trembling leaves,
when the body flings itself
from branch to branch.
Erica Funkhouser
(b. 1949)
“Here” (from “Pursuit,” published by Houghton Mifflin), © 2002 by Erica Funkhouser. Used by permission.
|
||||
5. |
Angels in Winter
02:12
|
|||
|
ANGELS IN WINTER
Mercy is whiter than laundry,
great baskets of it, packed like snowmen.
In the cellar I fold and sort and watch
through a squint in the dirty window
the plain bright snow.
Nancy Willard
(1936-2017)
From “Angels in Winter” © Nancy Willard. Used by permission.
|
||||
Mark Kilstofte
Mark Kilstofte is admired as a composer of lyrical line, expert text setting and keen sensitivity to sound, shape and event – qualities stemming in part from his many years of vocal study. Winner of the Rome Prize, his honors also include ASCAP’s Rudolf Nissim Award, the Copland House Residency Award and fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation and the American Academy of Arts and Letters. ... more
If you like Mark Kilstofte, you may also like:
Argentine composer and guitarist Francisco del Pino achieves a stunning art-song hybrid on the first album to be released under his own name.
go to album
This elegantly composed chamber album from Ellen Tsai has a playful feel, almost like the soundtrack to a storybook.
go to album
Silhouettes
by Justina Jaruseviciute
A stirring set of chamber music from this composer from Berlin, which seem to capture hope & sadness at once.
go to album
featured on Bandcamp Radio Aug 30, 2016
go to album
Imprints 1 & 2
by Simeon Walker
These almost heartbreakingly gentle felted piano compositions have the delicacy and loveliness of slow-falling snow.
go to album
Landscape Traces: New music for khaen, volume two
by Christopher Adler
The khaen—a free-reed mouth organ from Laos and Northeast Thailand—comes to life on this compilation EP.
go to album
Hushed and quietly beautiful piano compositions from Simeon Walker that are as calming as spring ran.
go to album
