Joyce DiDonato: EDEN
Performers
Joyce DiDonato, Executive Producer and Mezzo-Soprano
Maxim Emelyanychev, Conductor
Il Pomo d’Oro
Manuel Palazzo, Actor
Marie Lambert-Le Bihan, Stage Director
John Torres, Lighting Designer
Program
IVES The Unanswered Question
RACHEL PORTMAN The First Morning of the World (NY Premiere)
G. MAHLER "Ich atmet’ einen linden Duft" from Rückert-Lieder
MARCO UCCELLINI Sinfonia à 5, No. 3, Op. 7
MARINI "Con le stelle in ciel che mai" from Scherzi e canzonette, Op. 5, No. 3
MYSLIVEČEK "Toglierò le sponde al mare" from Adamo ed Eva
COPLAND "Nature, the gentlest mother" from 8 Poems of Emily Dickinson
VALENTINI Sonata in G Minor, "Enharmonic"
CAVALLI "Piante ombrose" from La Calisto
GLUCK "Danza degli spettri e delle furie" from Orfeo ed Euridice
GLUCK "Misera, dove son! ... Ah! non son io che parlo" from Ezio
HANDEL "As with rosy steps the morn" from Theodora
G. MAHLER "Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen" from Rückert-Lieder
Encores:
WAGNER "Schmerzen" from Wesendonck Lieder, Op. 91, No. 4
VARIOUS “Seeds of Hope” (composed by the Children of the Canterbury Choir, Bishop Ramsey CE School, with Mike Roberts)
HANDEL "Ombra mai fù" from Serse
Event Duration
The printed program will last approximately 90 minutes with no intermission. Please note that there will be no late seating.Listen to Selected Works
EDEN: One Song | One Seed
I don’t know yet if it’s simply the general times we are living in, or if the “Great Pause” alone has given rise to ever deepening and restless queries within, but as Gene Scheer perfectly captures in the text of our world premiere, The First Morning of the World: “I am filled with nothing but questions.”
EDEN has emerged as an integral part of the journey towards finding answers.
You see, I’m a problem solver, a dreamer, and—yes—I am a belligerent optimist who believes in the incredible power of not only the human spirit to overcome, but, with each passing day, I trust more and more in the perfect balance, astonishing mystery, and guiding force of the natural world around us. How much Mother Nature has to teach us through her awe-inducing majesty, her staggeringly complex simplicity, and her ever-present patience. It’s almost as if she has all the time in the world …
EDEN is an invitation to return to our roots. To remember. It is an overture to contemplate the sheer perfection of the world around us, and to explore whether or not we are connecting as profoundly as we can to the pure essence of our being. It is a clarion call to consider if our collective suffering and confusion isn’t perhaps linked to the aching separation from something primal within and around us.
During the pandemic, I closely observed the flowers that emerged from the ground as the “real world” went quiet. Despite our pressing issues of shutdowns and closures, these wondrous miracles arrived—unassuming and unheralded—bursting out of their seed coverings after the long winter’s sleep, modestly employing the water and soil at hand to reach ever higher towards the sky, soaking up the full glory of the sun. All were in service of fulfilling their destiny: simply to bloom in their singular incarnation, nourishing the bees and butterflies dependent on them, asking for nothing in return. When their job was done, almost imperceptibly and without fanfare, they dissolved back into the earth to nourish the soil and rest well before they would be needed again.
The trees, dormant over the dark and cold winter of isolation still found the way to blossom, bearing fruit and giving welcome shade without any expectation of bonus or reward: They simply fulfilled their natural objective and then gently let go of their fading leaves to prepare for a well-earned rest, completing the inexorable circle of life.
When I stop to truly look around, and I dare to connect with this world of wonder rather than the harsh, lifeless one of cement, wires, and industry, I am transported to a place that seems to exist simultaneously both in the stars and deep within. I feel connected. I begin to break free of the cables and waste around me, and sense that I’m an integral part of something bigger. A seed is awakened within me. But the doubt persists, often in the darkest hours of the night: “What can I alone do? What difference can I possibly make?”
And the truth is, I’m not at all sure of the answer. The immense, deafening pain and destruction of the world at large often overwhelms me. Any hope of “saving it” seems to float further and further away.
This is precisely when I seek out the comfort and connection of music: With each passing day, I trust more and more in the perfect balance, astonishing mystery, and guiding force of the musical world with which we are blessed. Storytellers and creators from Handel to Ives, and from Rückert to Portman, who have so much to teach us as they sort through the simple complexity of our human dilemma and search for universal truths, give us guidance and wisdom to aid us in our questioning.
Time often seems to stand still when absorbed in the integrated harmonies and rich poetry of great music, and in this beautiful suspension we are afforded the gift to examine, expand, and feel. We connect. The painful separation begins to dissipate, and we are empowered to act.
EDEN itself is a call to action to build a paradise for today. To fertilize, nourish, and protect the pure bliss that the deepest part of us knows and yearns for: the unpolluted perfume of a linden branch; the comforting shade of an old tree; the breathtaking sanctity of pure love; the generosity of the endless light that breaks open for us every single morning; the dying to the world which we once knew, only to embrace and live alone in our heaven, our love, and our song.
The way I look at it, this is the precise moment in time when each of us is called to participate in the nourishing and healing of our world and our hearts: repairing where broken, rebuilding where barren, replenishing where exhausted. Both nature and music are showing us the way. Will we answer the call?
With that in mind, I ask you: In this time of upheaval, which seed will you plant today?
—Joyce DiDonato