2008
for mixed choir
Duration : c. 17'
TOV019c
About Nature Morte the composer writes : “The poetic source of my composition Nature Morte is the work of Joseph Brodsky (1940-1996). The piece is based on fragments of two works by the Russian poet with jewish background, Nature Morte (1971) and Butterfly (1973), which were written shortly before and after Brodsky moved to the United States, in 1972; the poems brilliantly reflect Brodsky’s emotional state at the time. The basic themes of Brodsky’s poetry from this period touch on the relationship between people and society, the choice between good and evil, the search for truth, and the relationship with God. For my piece Nature Morte, I have chosen the poem’s English translation. In my point Brodsky was actively involved in the translation of his words; therefore the English versions of his texts may be considered just as valuable as the originals, or, in any event, not any less valuable than the originals.”
The premiere of Nature Morte took place on October 23, 2008 at Niguliste Church, Tallinn, Estonia. The performers were the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir, conductor Daniel Reuss. This work was commissioned by the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir.
From Nature Morte and Butterfly by Joseph Brodsky (English translation)
I
Nature Morte
People and things crowd in.
Eyes can be bruised and hurt
by people as well as things.
Better to live in the dark.
I sit on a wooden bench
watching the passers-by –
sometimes whole families.
I am fed up with the light.
This is a winter month.
First on the calendar.
I shall begin to speak
when I’m fed up with the dark.
(From Nature Morte, 1971)
II
The Butterfly
Should I say that you’re dead?
You touched so brief a fragment
of time. There’s much that’s sad in
the joke God played.
I scarcely comprehend
the words “you’ve lived”; the date of
your birth and when you faded
in my cupped hand
are one, and not two dates.
Thus calculated,
your term is, simply stated,
less than a day.
Who was the jeweler,
who from our world extracted
your miniature –
a world where madness brings
us low, and lower,
where we are things, while you are
the thought of things?
Should I say that, somehow,
you lack all being?
What, then, are my hands feeling
that’s so like you?
Such colors can’t be drown
from non-existence.
Tell me, at whose insistence
were yours laid on?
There are, on your small wings,
black spots and splashes –
like eyes, birds, girls, eyelashes.
But of what things
are you the airy norm?
What bits of faces,
what broken times?What places shine
through your form?
As for your nature morte;
Yet you’re akin
to nothingness –
like it, you’re wholly empty.
And if, in your life’s venture,
Nothing takes flesh,
that flesh will die.
Yet while you live you offer
a frail and shifting buffer,
dividing it from me.
(From The Butterfly, 1973)
III
Who are you? *
Mary now speaks to Christ:
“Are you my son? – or God?
You are nailed to the cross.
Where lies my homeward road?
Can I pass through my gate
not having understood:
Are you dead? – or alive?
Are you my son? – or God?”
Christ speaks to her in turn:
“Whether dead or alive,
woman, it’s all the same –
son or God, I am thine.”
(From Nature Morte, 1971)
*The title of this part by Galina Grigorjeva