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World Wheel
1999

soprano
baritone
SATB chorus
2 flutes 1º doubling piccolo, 2º doubling piccolo and alto flute
3 oboes
bass clarinet 
2 bassoons
2 horns
3 trumpets 1º doubling trumpet in Eb, 3º doubling flugelhorn
3 trombones
timpani
percussion 
  bass drum, large cowbell, crotale (G), glockenspiel, mark-tree, large ratchet ride cymbal, 
  sizzle cymbal, snare drum, suspended cymbal, tambourine, tam-tam,
  tenor drum, 2 tom-toms, triangle, vibraphone, watergong, whistle, woodblock
synthesizer [Alesis QS6]
strings

duration 70' 

commissioned by The Cantata Singers
first performance: 
Jennifer Foster, Sanford Sylvan with The Cantata Singers, cond. David Hoose
Jordan Hall, Boston / January 21, 2000

SCORE
The Big Bang
Enuma Elish
The Book of the Dead
The Odyssey
Shvetashvatara Upanishad
The Life of Nero
Revelation
Deor
The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon
The Oracle
Obit
Nocturne

RECORDING—first performance
 
PROGRAM NOTE
World Wheel celebrates and marks the turning of the millennium. It has six movements, five of which
set texts from major world civilizations at periods of one thousand years apart from 2000 BC to the
present day. 

Before and After Time (2000 BC) sets the opening words of the Sumerian Enuma Elish. It talks of a
time before creation, when the gods were "nameless, natureless, futureless", and is followed by a
passage from The Egyptian Book of the Dead which tells of the time to come after creation when the
universe has returned to its primeval, undifferentiated state. 

The Created Universe (1000 BC) sets a description of earth's bounty from The Odyssey and a
meditation on man's interrelationship with the divine from one of the Upanishads. 

Apocalyptic Visions, at the turn of the calendar from BC to CE, sets passages from the life of Nero
from Suetonius's The Twelve Caesars, showing a civilization at its most debauched and unchecked,
along with cataclysmic and ecstatic sections from The Book of Revelation. 

Distant Shores (1000) sets an Anglo-Saxon poem, Deor, in which each stanza ends with "that went
by; this may too". It is a resigned poem, written in exile; a meditation on the nature of time. This is
paired with a diary entry by Sei Shonagon, a lady-in-waiting to the Japanese Empress, which in its
simple observations of what were, for Sei Shonagon, everyday things, emphasizes the gigantic gulf
between her world and our own, and indeed between her world and that of Anglo-Saxon Britain. 

The final movement, Future (2000), sets three American poets. It moves from Peter Davison's wry
recitation of oracular advice on the issues of the day, through Anne Waldman's powerful, incantatory
obituary for our century, to Lisel Mueller's interior search in the dead of night which leads her to
“sounds of connection; sweet music. I lay there and listened to the moonless night fill up with sound
until the darkness throbbed with a dream of arrival.”


REVIEWS
Andy Vores is a generous composer. David Hoose and the Cantata Singers commlissioned him to
write a 45-minute piece for the turning of the millennium, and Vores obliged with 70—and it didn’t
seem too long.

World Wheel assembles texts from five millennia and many cultures—Sumerian, Egyptian, Indian,
Roman, Anglo-Saxon, Japanese, and American, “a celebration," the composer writes, "of the vagaries, frailties and marvels of civilization: and, he might have added, of the varieties of human aspiration and feeling. There are at ieast as many different musical styles on exhibit in the course of the work, which ends where it begin, with Tne Big Bang. Of recent pieces, only William Bolcom's even more generous Songs of Innocence and Experience is this polystylistic—and only a contemporary piece could
be this comprehensive because the modern media for the first time have made it possible for all of
musical history, and worid musical cultures, to be simultaneously present in the ear and imagination
of a composer.

Vores doesn't seem to have met any music he doesn’t like, and just about every kind of music he likes
has found its way into World Wheel—and it all comes out in the enthusiastic voice of Vores himself. Over the course of this piece there is great precision and delicacy (as in the Japanese section); there is also a vivid theatricaliity (Nero stands to fiddle while Rome burns). There is never any fear that an effect might prove too obvious: fearlessness is a major characteristic of the piece. But so is sensitivity. Perhaps the most memorable section is the chanted Anglo-Saxon elegy Deor, punctuated by the mournful sound of ofistage trumpet (Dennis Alves).

Vores is ever mindful that performers like to dig into music that is fun to play and sing, and he never forgets that the audience enjoys something that is fun to hear. Nothing in World Wheellasts too long,
and if everything is not equally appealing, you can be sure that something very different will come
along within a couple of minutes. If communicative urgency is central to your compositional agenda,
it helps to have something to say, and Vores does—a lot.

He gives the chorus a real workout: The ensemble stomps, claps, shouts, moans, whistles, and, of
course, sings a lot—sings out, and sings inwardly. The storytelling orchestration sounds even bigger
than it is, and the synthesizer (Karen Harvey) brings in the sounds of nature and the instruments of
other cultures. There are two prominent solo parts, for soprano and baritone: Jennifer Foster has a vibrantly colorful voice that sometimes becomes too vibrant when her chin begins to quiver too;
Sanford Syivan delivers text with unmatched eloquence and zeal but one wished Vores had given
him more music with line in it, like the passage from Revelation. Hoose knew the performance would
be uninhibited and enthusiastic; he saw to it that it was proportionate and orderly too. The audience
—not a full house, unfortunately—loved it. Vores has added a greatest hit to his catalog.
Richard Dyer • The Boston Globe

•
From Bach, back to the Big Bang—and back again. Man, what a trip.

The  Cantata Singers, David Hoose's estimable ensemble, is celebrating two anniversaries this year —Bach's 315th and their own 35th.

This concert was a bit of both, with Bach’s Cantata BWV1, Wie schoen leuchtet der Morgenstern, in the
first half, and a world premiere of a Cantata commission. Andy Vores World Whee!. after the break.

Vores, a transplanted Welshman who has lived in Boston for years, has built up a strong base of
effecting compositions, mostly in chamber settings. World Wheel is a massive. ambitious work, one of
many commissioned in recent years to celebrate the millennium. Its reach it huge, its grasp sometimes
not so firm, but what a trip it is.

World Wheel is set tor chorus, chamber orchestra, soprano (Jennifer Foster) and baritone (Sanford Sylvan) soloists. Its aim is to celebrate the millennia, from 2000 B.C. to the present. It does so with text from various cultures.

It has large ambitions and an extensive musical vocabuiary—at once Stockhausen, Copland and Beethoven mixed. Through-composed to a fault, its strengths are many: terrific choral writing with idiosyncratic voicings and beautiful full-bodied harmonies, elegant instrumental writing, especially
strong percussion, solo violin and woodwinds and exellent dynamics, with not a moment of musical boredom the whole night.

All these strengths were capitalized on by the agile Hoose, who didn’t let a measure go by without
some subtle turn or apt interpretation. And we’re talking 70 minutes of music.

its weaknesses were many as well: an overgassed synthesizer part, which overshadowed the clever musical sounds from the acoustic instruments. The lack of well-developed solo singing, wasting the
talents of the excellent Foster and the sublime Sylvan. But most of all an overlong text, which sounded too much like a classical musical poetry slam.

Hoose was in complete control in World Wheel, but he missed some instrumental cues in the Cantata —especially in the first movement. In the end, it was Bach that made it clear: some things are simple—but you just can't say it like that. 
Keith Powers • The Boston Herald


TEXTS
THE BIG BANG
orchestra



2000 BC—BEFORE AND AFTER TIME
Enuma Elish
Chorus
When there was no heaven,
no earth, no height, no depth, no name,
when Apsu was alone,
the sweet water, the first begetter; 
and Tiamat,
the bitter water,
when there were no gods—

When sweet and bitter water
mingled together, no reed hut had been matted, 
no marsh land had appeared, 
the gods were nameless, natureless, futureless . . . 
from the Enuma Elish trans. N.K. Sandars


The Book of the Dead
Osiris (tenor)
O Atum! What is this desert place into which I have come?
It has no water, no air, it is depth unfathomable, 
it is black as the blackest night
cannot live here in peace of heart. 

Atum (baritone)
You may live in peace of heart.
In place of water and air I have provided illumination. 

Osiris
Shall I behold your face? 

Atum
I will not allow you to suffer sorrow. 

Osiris
How long shall I live? 

Atum
You will live more than millions of years, 
but in the end I will destroy everything that I have created. 
The earth will become again part of the Primeval Ocean.
Then I will be what will remain, just I and Osiris, 
when I will have changed myself back into the Old Serpent 
who knew no man and saw no god. 
from The Egyptian Book of the Dead, trans. E.A. Wallis Budge



1000 BC—THE CREATED UNIVERSE
The Odyssey
Chorus
Now as Odysseus approached
a rush of feelings stirred within his heart, 
bringing him to a standstill,
even before he crossed the bronze threshold. 

Outside the courtyard, fronting the high gates,
a magnificent orchard stretches four acres deep.
Here luxuriant trees are always in their prime,
pomegranates and pears, and apples glowing red,
succulent figs and olives swelling sleek and dark.
And the yield of these trees will never flag or die.
For the West Wind always breathing through will bring
some fruits to the bud and others warm to ripeness— 
pear mellowing on pear, apple on apple,
cluster of grapes on cluster, fig crowding fig. 

And there Odysseus stood,
gazing at all this bounty, a man who´d borne so much. 
Homer trans. Robert Fagles from The Odyssey


Shvetashvatara Upanishad
Soprano
The Lord of Love projects himself
Into this universe of myriad forms. 

He is fire and the sun and the moon
And the stars. He is the air and the sea.
He is this boy, he is that girl, he is
This man, he is that woman. 

He is the blue bird, he is the green bird
With red eyes; he is the thundercloud.
He has no beginning, he has no end.
He is the source from which the worlds evolve. 

Two birds of beautiful plumage, comrades
Inseparable, live on the selfsame tree.
One bird eats the fruit of pleasure and pain;
The other looks on without eating. 

Forgetting our divine origin, 
We become ensnared in the world of change.
And bewail our helplessness. But when
We see the Lord of Love in all his glory,
Adored by all, we go beyond sorrow. 
from The Upanishads trans. Eknath Easwaren



0000—APOCALYPTIC VISIONS
The Life of Nero
Baritone and Chorus
Physical characteristics of Nero: 
Height: average
Body: pustular and malodorous
Hair: light blond
Features: pretty, rather than handsome
Eyes: blue and rather weak
Neck: squat
Belly: protuberant
Legs: spindling 

Music formed a part of his childhood, and he early developed a taste for it. Little b little, he began to
study and undertook all the usual exercises for strengthening and developing the voice. He would lie on
his back with a slab of lead on his chest, use enemas and emetics to keep down his weight, and refrain
from eating apples and every other food considered deleterious to the vocal chords. Though his voice
was feeble and husky, he was pleased enough with his progress to begin to nurse theatrical ambitions.
At his first stage appearance, disregarding an earthquake which shook the theatre, he sang his piece
through to the end. 

So captivated was he by the rhythmic applause of a crowd of Alexandrians from a fleet which had just
put in, that he chose more than five thousand sturdy ordinary youths, whom he divided into groups to
learn the Alexandrian method of applause–they were known, respectively, as 'Bees', 'Roof-tiles', and 'Bricks'–the Bees made a loud humming noise, the Roof-tiles clapped with their hollowed hands; the
Bricks, flat-handed. 

It might have been possible to excuse his insolent, lustful, extravagant, greedy, or cruel early practices
by saying that boys will be boys; yet this was clearly the true Nero. As soon as night fell he would
snatch a cap, or a wig and prowl the streets in search of mischief—one of his games was to attack men
on their way home from dinner, stab them if they offered resistance, and then drop their bodies down
the sewers. 

Not satisfied with seducing free-born boys and married women, Nero raped the Vestal Virgin Rubria.
Having tried to turn the boy Sporus into a girl by castration, he went through a wedding ceremony with him–dowry, bridal veil, and all; took him to his palace with a great crowd in attendance and treated him
like a wife. The lecherous passion he felt for his mother, Agrippina, was notorious. 

He was eager, it is said, to get hold of a certain Egyptian—a sort of ogre who would eat raw flesh and
anything else he was given—and watch him tear live men to pieces and then devour them. 

Pretending to be disgusted by the drab old buildings and narrow, winding streets of Rome, he set fire to
the city. This terror lasted for six days and seven nights. Nero watched the conflagration from the Tower
of Maecenas, enraptured by what he called 'the beauty of the flames', then put on his tragedian's
costume and sang The Sack of Ilium from beginning to end. 

At last, after nearly fourteen years of Nero's misrule, the earth rid herself of him. In the widespread
general rejoicing, citizens ran through the streets wearing caps of liberty. 
Suetonius (69–c.140) trans. Robert Graves from The Lives of the Twelve Caesars


Revelation
Chorus
And the sun turned black like cloth of hair, 
and all the moon became as blood, 
and the stars of the sky dropped upon the earth. 

And the sky shrank upon itself like a scroll curling, 
and every mountain and island was shaken from its place. 

And there were lightning flashes and voices and thunders, 
and there was a great earthquake, 
such as there has not been since man has been upon the earth. 

Babylon the great is fallen, is fallen, 
and has become the habitation of demons 
and the prison of every unclean spirit. 
The merchants of the earth shall weep and mourn over her, 
because no one buys their cargo any more, 
their cargo of gold and silver and precious stone and pearls 
and linen and purple and silk and scarlet, 
and every aromatic wood 
and every article of ivory 
and every article of bronze and iron and marble, 
and cinnamon and cardamom 
and incense and perfume and frankincense 
and wine and oil and fine flour 
and wheat and cattle and sheep,
their cargo of horses and chariots and bodies, 
and the souls of men. 

All that was fat and bright is perished from you, 
and they shall never find it again. 

Baritone
I saw a new heaven and a new earth.
I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, 
coming down out of heaven from God, 
and made ready as a bride is arrayed for her husband. 
The great street of the city is gold clear as translucent glass.
And the city has no need of the sun or the moon
for the glory of God illuminates it, 
and its lamp is the Lamb. 

And he showed me the river of the water of life shining like crystal 
and issuing from the throne of God and the Lamb. 
Between the great street of the city and the river was the tree of life, 
bearing twelve fruits 
and the leaves of the tree for the healing of the nations. 
Everything accursed shall be gone henceforth. 
from The New Testament trans. Robert Lattimore



1000—DISTANT SHORES
Deor
Men's Chorus
Wayland knew the wanderer's fate:
that single-willed earl suffered agonies,
sorrow and longing the sole companions
of his ice-cold exile. Anxieties bit when Nithhad 
put a knife to his hamstrings,
laid clever bonds on the better man. 

thæs ofereode, thisses swa mæg
that went by; this may too 

Beadohild mourned her murdered brothers:
but her own plight pained her more
–her womb grew great with child.
When she knew that, she could never hold
steady before her wit what was to happen 

thæs ofereode, thisses swa mæg
that went by; this may too 

All have heard of Hild's ravishing:
the Geat's lust was ungovernable,
that bitter love banished sleep. 

thæs ofereode, thisses swa mæg
that went by; this may too 

Thirty winters Theodric ruled
the Maering city: and many knew it 

thæs ofereode, thisses swa mæg
that went by; this may too 
Deor trans. Michael Alexander from Deor 


The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon
Soprano
One day, when the snow lay thick on the ground and was still coming down heavily, I saw some gentlemen of the Fourth and Fifth Ranks who had a fresh complexion and a pleasant, youthful look. Their beautifully colored Court robes, which they wore over their night-watch costumes, were tucked up at the bottom and showed the marks of their leather belts. Their dark purple trousers stood out beautifully against the white snow. I could also see their under-jackets, some of scarlet, others dyed a beautiful rose-yellow. The men had opened their umbrellas, but since it was very windy the snow came at them from the side and they bent forward slightly as they walked. The sparkling white snow covered them all the way to the tips of their lacquered leather shoes or short clogs–a magnificent sight. 
from The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon trans. Ivan Morris



2000—FUTURE
The Oracle
Chorus
Can things go on getting better? Are they really getting worse? 

Soprano and Baritone
Raise your spirits, bold and plucky:
The other end of wrong is lucky. 

Chorus
Can things go on getting worse? Might they get better?

Soprano and Baritone
If a rich man dream of fire,
Let him wake to his desire. 

Chorus
What is the matter with our children?

Soprano and Baritone
Anorexic, roly-poly:
Everything that lives is holy. 

Chorus
Where, how, can we find peace? 

Soprano and Baritone
Let the donkey at the gate
Take possession of your fate. 

Chorus
Will anybody be left after we die?

Soprano and Baritone
If nobody is there to see
You, what is the use of me? 

Chorus
Can I escape my fate?

Soprano and Baritone
Would it be your lucky day– 
The only one to get away? 

Chorus
Will our side win? 

Soprano and Baritone
All good people come to dust
As all evil people must. 

Chorus
Is the world coming to an end? 

Soprano and Baritone
Torque and friction; twist and bend;
Earth is not the user's friend. 
Peter Davison (b.1928) from The Oracle


Obit
Chorus
it was a moment
it was a golden eye-blink
it was a microdot–—one galaxy´s inbreath
one sigh
one gesture of seduction
one rapt pause
several comets
eclipse, eclipse, eclipse
it was the shrug of Brahma's shoulder
creak of Isis' oar
heave of a chest
lonely cough
her sidelong glance
her fancy gait
will she kiss her lover?
her gasp—is it bad? is the news bad?
they make love at dawn
'time' explodes
his quizzical look
what news, Claudius?
the end of a movie
someone dies
it was a dart of passion
it was a conjunct of earth & sky
the earth stood still
a scream
then falters
it was over & it was beginning
it was war it was war it was war it was war . . . 

I am war I was war I am war
American made
I am power and eyes and parables
I will close my fist and raise it to the first cause
I will fight
I will not survive
No
I am a survivor
but I forget what I just said to you
I forget something
no
I forgot
I forgot something
amnesia of holocaust
amnesia for war and war and more war
witness the end of Nature
I want to forget her beauties
because I helped destroy them
nothing will ever be the same
there is no topsoil left
and many species extinct . . . 

it was over & it was beginning
it was war it was war it was war it was war 
Anne Waldman (b.1945) from Obit 


Nocturne
Baritone
Sometimes, in the dead of night, I wake up in an immense hole of silence. Then I wait, with hope and
dread, for the first sound to drop into it. Hope for something benign: the soothing background music of
rain, or an owl's throaty signal. Dread of a wailing siren, or the telephone, which at this hour could bring
me only a thick, demented voice, or the impersonal speech issuing from some desk of disaster. Last
night, when it came, it was a sound of blessing, therough-and-tumble bumping-together of freight cars
in the switchyard down the road – that simple, artless coupling, and a long time later, the drawn-out,
low-voiced hum of the train rolling down the single track. Sounds of work, of confidence in the night, in
getting from here to there. Sounds of connection; sweet music. I lay there and listened to the moonless
night fill up with sound until the darkness throbbed with a dream of arrival. 
Lisel Mueller (b.1924) 

Chorus
nameless, natureless, futureless 

Horus, Thoth, Bast 
Isis, Osiris, Anubis
Vishnu, Shiva, Brahma 
Kali, Krishna, Lakshmi
Zeus, Aphrodite, Poseidon 
Hermes, Demeter, Hephaistos
Jupiter, Hera, Venus 
Mercury, Cupid, Vulcan
Amaterasu, Fukurokuju, Oho-Yama 
Daikoku, Hachiman, Kawa-no-Kami
Cai-shen, Dha-shi-zhi, Heng O 
Pan-gu, Zhu Rong, Fu-xing
Thor, Odin, Freya 
Fricka, Baldur, Loki
Quetzalcoatl, Tezcatlipoca, Camaxtli 
Chiconahui, Xochipilli, Atl
Ah Cancum, Kukulcan, Ah Cuxtal 
Xibalba, Hunahpu, Chac
Bran, Branwen, Caridwen 
Rhiannon, Gwydion, Arianrhod
Apsu, Tiamat, Kishar 
Enlil, Ishtar, Tammuz
Apu-Hau, Longo, Hanui-o-Rangi 
Kanaloa, Lono, Raka 

Perhaps the universe will end one day and all the life in it. 

If the universe expands forever, it will survive for an infinite period of time. Eventually all the material in all the generations of stars will be exhausted, and the universe will grow cold and dark. 

If the universe stops expanding and begins to contract, it will grow hotter and brighter until it implodes and gets crushed out of existence. 

Maybe this Big Crunch will not be the end. Perhaps another Big Bang will follow, and another new universe. 

Soprano and Baritone
All the world, all the world, all the world, all the world.