PROGRAM

Text and Music: Susan Kander


The music of American composer Susan Kander has been heard throughout the United States and in cities around the world. This song cycle for voice, piano and trumpet (or clarinet) is a story about a real frau’s liebe (love) and leben (love). There are seven movements in this cycle that revolve around honeymoon, pregnancy, having children, exhaustion to sexual re-awakening, the balancing act between gaining grandchildren and losing parents. Here, we learn the life story of a woman from having dreams to not having any, for there is no one to tell them to.


First Movement

In a ball room
not like our wedding
simple, just simple.
Charlie is there –
my grandpa Charlie in his seersucker suit.
You never knew him :
very spiffy - golden cravat - gold hankie just for show.
Couples out on the dance floor,
they dip and twirl, forward and back,
Round and round and round and round.
Beautiful.
I see a woman all alone.
I don’t know her.
All alone,
dipping and turning as if she had a partner  -
a fine, elegant partner.
Beautiful. Graceful.
But she is dancing all alone,
all alone.
There is no partner there.

… I see Charlie.
He is the same.
Dancing with such style and grace,
a regular Fred Astaire
as if there were a partner there.
But my grandma is not with him… yet.
Oh… now I know:
It is the afterlife.
Some people’s partners already come,
while Charlie - and the woman - wait,
content,
dancing to the music.
They dance
and wait…
Oh… Oh!!…
You are not allowed to die!
You! Don’t you dare go there before I do!
Don’t you dare!
I love you!
I love you!
I love you!


Second Movement

Oh God…
What was she doing there? (Little sh*t!)

I drag a tree branch;
not too big
but a whole tree branch.
I’m dragging it through a forest.
The path is easy,
clear and wide
and I’m dragging this tree branch.

And that stupid little snot Lynn,
that awful little Stalin
is following behind be up the path.

She’s still there.
So I stop.
She walks up.
Nasty little eyes,.
Nasty little mouth.
And she says:
“It’s a fact: you’re not much to look at.”

Oh. Oh. It kicked.


Third Movement

They’re asleep.
They’re both asleep.

I was dozing in the rocking chair
nursing Sophie.
I stroke her hair, she pats my breast.

I was dreaming I was in a boat
nursing Sophie.
In sunshine we float, on a quiet pond.

Suddenly,
Joey’s teacher locks him in his costume box
his new red costume box,
and throws him overboard
into the deep, deep water.

I am in a boat nursing Sophie –
I can’t breathe, can’t scream.
Joey, so little, all curl’d up
inside his costumes.
I can’t move, can’t shout.

I awaken in the rocking chair
nursing Sophie.
I feel Joey stare at me from his big boy bed.

That beautiful boy…
How long until he forgives us?
How long?
How long?
… On a boat… Sophie…
Sunshine… float…
A lovely pond…
How long?
How long?


Fourth Movement

I dreamed I went to a department store
to have my tubes tied.


Fifth Movement

Wake up, wake up.
I want you, I want you.
Let’s dance.


Sixth Movement

What a night.
I’m so tired of dreaming.
Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming.
It’s like going to the movies all night.
Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming.
It’s exhausting.

I’m in the living room.
There are shoes everywhere, big and small.
They belong to Sophie’s brood,
all of them including the twins.
Shoes everywhere.
A tiny purple sock has landed on the piano keys.

There is a knock at the door.
Suddenly it’s not our house anymore.
It’s mother’s apartment.
But empty,
Completely empty.
Not so much as a chair or picture.
I open the door.
It is Mother
looking like she always looked:
same blue stretch pants,
blue cardigan sweater.
She is silent.
The apartment is empty.
She begins to weep.

Then I am in my old room.
My father is in his sick bed
but it is my bed. My bed.
He wears his robe and slippers under the covers,
just like yesterday.
But it’s my old bed.
Daad says, from the pillow:
“I’ve always worn my slippers;
I’ve always worn my hat.”
That’s true.

Now I’m in Mother’s kitchen
in the old house.
Joey is there.
Little, nine or ten.
And you.
Dad is going out the back door in his robe and slippers
and his hat.
And he says to us:
“In six hours I’m going to Mexico City.”
Then to Joey:
“Never buy candy on a Sunday -
it can’t be fresh.”
And he leaves.

Then you and I…
Then you and I are dancing.
Dancing, dancing, dancing.
Press’d close
dancing gorgeously.
Gorgeous.
Magic.
Beautiful you!
Beautiful except
there is no music.
No sound.
No sound at all.
Silence.
Silence.
But we dance.
We dance.
Dancing, dancing, dancing.

I am so tired of dreaming.


Seventh Movement

No dreams.
No dreams.
I had no dreams last night.
How can I dream? How can I dream”
I have no one to tell them to.

I had no dream last night.

Text and Music: Katrina Saporsantos

Halo-Halo is a song that is one part recipe for a delicious and well-loved refreshing treat, one part Philippine history, and one part commentary on how this humble dessert symbolizes Philippine identity and culture as a whole. Compositionally, it is inspired by Leonard Bernstein’s La Bonne Cuisine and a pastiche of different musical styles like pop, cabaret, folk song, Philippine sarswela, and more. It is a celebration of many cultures that have now become part of the identity of an entire nation–a little ambiguous, but 100% Filipino.

Ice cream is great.
Snow scones are good.
But halo-halo, it’s simply the best - 
the most refreshing treat!

You first start with a teaspoon each of your mix-ins, all so sweet: 
caramelized bananas  
sweetened red mung beans
sweetened garbanzos, jack fruit, coconut jelly.
All the tropical fruits at the bottom to make you remember who you are at the core: a true blue Pinoy!

And then you fill the glass with ice
shaved so finely it resembles snow–
that white powder from the sky we don’t have in the tropics 
but always dream of experiencing…
until we do and it turns into a gross, yucky, slushy mess.

But I digress…

You then drizzle all of that with sweetened milk,
it doesn’t matter if it’s from a cow or goat or rice or nut.
Just remember that it cannot be too sweet because there’s more to come.
Prepare yourself; it’s time to add the… colonizers!

A tablespoon of leche flan or maybe three to symbolize the Spanish rule–three hundred thirty three years of“Si, Señor!”

And then you grab a scoop of a very Americanized oob – excuse me – ube ice cream.
It’s so sweet, you can “feel” it in your teeth!
What a treat we would have with this very Americanized ube ice cream,
but wait!

Then you carefully place mochi right on top because we can’t forget the Japanese…

But I digress…
Now, it is done…
Stick in a spoon, and then you mix and mix and mix – halo-halo… HALO-HALO!

This dessert!
This explosion of flavors
and marriage of textures
is as Filipino as Filipinos.  

No two halo-halos are the same; 
there’s a different mix in every bite. 
But one thing I know is that I love it so even if it makes my blood sugar rise!.

No two halo-halos are the same; 
there’s a different mix in every bite. 
The perfect taste of summer
even in the winter;
doesn’t even matter
that the weather’s colder.

Next time you have a chance to do so, make sure you try halo-halo.

Yum!

Text and Music: Vienna Teng; arr. Kenken Gorder

Vienna Teng is a Chinese-American musician whose music is described as “chamber folk”, “indie pop”, and was influenced by classical and contemporary musicians. These two selections “Lullaby for a Stormy Night” and “Breaking Light” are two of her most beautiful compositions that I believe suit well for Tatsulok’s instrumentation.

Lullaby for a Stormy Night

Little child, be not afraid
Though rain pounds harshly against the glass
Like an unwanted stranger, there is no danger
I am here tonight

Little child, be not afraid
Though thunder explodes and lightning flash
Illuminates your tear-stained face
I am here tonight 

And someday you'll know
That nature is so
The same rain that draws you near me
Falls on rivers and land
On forests and sand
Makes the beautiful world that you'll see
In the morning

Little child, be not afraid
Though storm clouds mask your beloved moon
And its candlelight beams, still keep pleasant dreams
I am here tonight

Little child, be not afraid
Though wind makes creatures of our trees
And their branches to hands, they're not real, understand
And I am here tonight

And someday you'll know
That nature is so
The same rain that draws you near me
Falls on rivers and land
On forests and sand
Makes the beautiful world that you'll see
In the morning

For you know, once even I was a
Little child, and I was afraid
But a gentle someone always came
To dry all my tears, trade sweet sleep for fears
And to give a kiss goodnight

Well now I am grown
And these years have shown
That rain's a part of how life goes
But it's dark and it's late
So I'll hold you and wait
'Til your frightened eyes do close

And I hope that you'll know
That nature is so
The same rain that draws you near me
Falls on rivers and land
On forests and sand
Makes the beautiful world that you'll see
In the morning

Everything's fine in the morning
The rain'll be gone in the morning
But I'll still be here in the morning

Breaking Light

watch the shadow lines fade away
brother you will return
let your lion heart cleave the waves
brother you will return
in the breaking light

leave the battlefield, leave her hand
brother you will return
for we are a woven thread, find the strand
brother you will return
in the breaking light

so listen to the darkness, listen to the patterns
listen to the breathing sea
listen to the colors, carry them inside you
they will bring you back to me
in the breaking light

feel the ground beneath sweep and sway
brother we will return
feel the hollow dream slip away
brother we will return
in the breaking light

so listen to the darkness, listen to the patterns
listen to the breathing sea
listen to the colors, carry them inside you
they will bring you back to me
listen to the sirens, listen to the heartbeat
listen to the turning tide
listen to the murmurs, carry them inside you
‘til we’re on the other side
in the breaking light
in the breaking light

Balut! Penoy! –Text and Music: Jerry Brandy | Nabasag ang Banga from “Dalagang Bukid” – Text: Hermogenes Ilagan; Music: Leon Ignacio | Naku, Kenkoy! – Text: Romualdo Ramos; Music: Nicanor Abelardo | All songs arr. Benjamin Dia

Pinoy Cabaret is a collection of songs popular in Filipino kabaret culture that blends jazz, sarswela and art song.

It starts off with Balut! Penoy!, popularized in the 1930s by Katy De La Cruz, a vaudeville singer that specialized in jazz tunes and torch songs. The song highlights the popular street vendor's cry to get people to buy the well-loved/hated/feared delicacy, emphasizing that it’s a cure for fatigue and makes one’s knees stronger. (Balut is a duck egg fertilized for 14-21 days that has a complex texture with a chick, yolk and broth, while penoy is a fertilized egg with a creamy, custard-like yolk where no embryo develops.)

Nabasag ang Bangafrom the 1917 Philippine sarswela “Dalagang Bukid” talks about a young woman named Neneng who was tasked to fetch water from the well, but somehow she comes back to her mother without any water because the jar “broke”. She offers many conflicting reasons for it breaking but the truth is that she met up with her lover and… well, her jar broke.

Naku, Kenkoy! on the other hand is a 1930s satirical song by Nicanor Abelardo that mocks colonial mentality and the adoption of American culture in the Philippines. As a character, Kenkoy reflected Filipinos colonized by the Americans: sporting a Valentino hairstyle, wearing baggy pants… speaking pidgin English. There’s a moment in this song where Kenkoy, unable to fully embrace America, rejects Tagalog in Spanish. He becomes the laughingstock of the town. In today’s Tagalog language, the word kenkoy has evolved to mean someone who is a jokester.

Balut! Penoy!

Almost everyday in front of our house,
there’s a woman that always walks by
Woven tray in hand, hips swaying as she walks
And her words ring clear in the streets:

Balut! Penoy Balut!
Buy these fresh balut eggs
because they can cure
someone who always feels weak.

Balut! Penoy Balut!
Buy these fresh balut eggs
because they will take away your fatigue
and they can effectively strengthen your knees.

Almost everyday in front of our house,
there’s a woman that always walks by
Woven tray in hand, hips swaying as she walks
And her words ring clear in the streets:

Balut! Penoy Balut!
Buy these fresh balut eggs
because they can cure
someone who always feels weak.

Balut! Penoy Balut!
Buy these fresh balut eggs
because they will take away your fatigue
and they can effectively strengthen your knees.

Nabasag ang Banga (The Jar Broke)

There’s a young lady fetching water from the well
Beautiful face, skin as smooth as caramel.
And then there approaches her -
A handsome young man.

The young lady says coyly “Stop moving!”
The young man says “Have pity on me.”
The young lady says “Don’t annoy me”
The young man replies “I’m in love.”

What happened?
The jar broke
because the young man slipped!
That’s why the young lady cried even more
and said she’ll surely be in trouble!

Hoy, Kenkoy!

Wherever you may be,
Whether in the city or village,
You will always find this rowdy Kenkoy.
There he is, humming along
His ill-fitting pants billowing loosely and there he is, like a fool
With his footsteps smacking loudly on the road.

Ouch! Oh dear! Kenkoy!
Hey you! Hey! Shh!

Even with his forehead shaved,
He ambles and gestures
While singing out on the roadside In English, though foreign with no real words.
(Though he has his ukulele!)
Greet him and ask how he is
And he’ll reply—you’ll see it for yourself!
“Hey! I speak no Tagalog”
Oh dear, Oh God, Kenkoy.

Kenkoy is also popular
At all the parties
With his ukulele in his hands,
He’ll sing amidst the celebration
There he is now dancing,
Making people laugh and flirting around.
His spit flying from his lips
As he endlessly bellows.

Hey! Kenkoy!

Text and Music: Ryan Cayabyab; arr. Benjamin Dia

Paraiso (Paradise) is an award-winning composition of Filipino composer Ryan Cayabyab. Written in 1991, what made ‘Paraiso’ stand out at that time was its relevance to the pressing environmental and societal issues of how the Smokey Mountain dumpsite was turning into a biohazard for everyone within the Metro Manila community. The song ironically juxtaposed the literal meaning of ‘paradise’ with a degrading environment filled with garbage and pollution in the Philippine context.

Return to a land called Paraiso
a place where a dying river ends.
No birds dare fly over Paraiso.
No space allows them to endure
the smoke that screens the air,
the grass that's never there.

And if I could see a single bird, what a joy.
I try to write some words and create
a simple song to be heard by the rest of the world

I live in this land called Paraiso
in a house made of cardboard floors and walls.
I learned to be free in Paraiso: free to claim anything I see–
matching rags for my clothes,
plastic bags for the cold.

And if empty cans were all I have, what a joy.
I never fight to take someone else's coins
and live with fear like the rest of the boys.

Paraiso, help me make a stand
Paraiso, take me by the hand
Paraiso, make the world understand
that if I could see a single bird, what a joy.
This tired and hungry land could expect
some truth and hope and respect
from the rest of the world.