ljubav izmedu zvijezda - for Westside Chamber Players - Full Score & Parts

Solo Violin

Flute (obbligato)

Double Bass (obbligato)

Violin II’s

Violas

(Violin I’s & Celli may stay on stage, looking toward the soloist with dreamy awe)

(For intents and purposes, winds may stay on stage to facilitate performance of other works) 

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I am half-Croatian. My family was from the coastal region of Dalmatia, primarily a fishing community, but immigrated to the United States twice, changing our name in the process. My family’s last name, on my father’s side, was actually changed in the mid-20th century to ease the language barrier between my family members and workers at Ellis Island. As time has progressed, I’ve seen our cultural foundations erode, and inheriting these foundations has felt like an obligation, an obligation to perform research, study, and keep that spirit alive. Truth be told, I’d never met another Croatian person in the flesh until attending a workshop for a piece of mine in San Antonio, where they played cello for the group, Unheard-Of//Ensemble. The only vestige of culture I feel I have a handle on is a particular type of informal group singing, Klapa. The general scope of that practice is to find a resonant space, gather some pals, and sing; the music is incredibly powerful, and, for some reason, makes the hair on your neck spike up like a radio antenna. Klapa has two main formal chunks, a solo line sung high and proud in a lyrical passion, then soli, lockstep accompaniment which finishes the line of the song. The harmonies are also quite simple, akin to horn 5ths, or basic a chorale texture.

I had really met this fellow Croatian individual at a restaurant in San Antonio called Guadalajara (great food in massive helpings, btw), where we discussed our backgrounds, favorite foods, and stories of “the war”... in other words, when our families left the country. She asked whether I’d had the opportunity to go to Split, but I hadn’t. The next day, at a performance near a venue called Echo Bridge, she performed a work that incorporates her mother’s Croatian text, her own mistakes in learning the language, and live-processed cello playing: a true, masterful juggling. The same effect that Klapa music has on me happened again; that performance was incredibly impactful... and got me thinking. I discussed this idea with a close friend of mine who hails from Mexico, and they had similar feelings about things, musically.

There’s a sense of gravity that certain aspects of our cultures carry, like a resonance in our DNA. Music from Dalmatia is awfully overly sweet, kitschy, but carries a certain electricity. This relationship is perfect for a physics metaphor; galaxies far, far away have a degree of influence over neighbor collections, coalescing in a web of interlocked vectors of energy transfer, the spiritual “cosmic web”. Even we, with our ant-like scales, play in this dance. I had the impression that the very same rules apply to the more ephemeral aspects of ourselves; culture with separation, for instance, is just gravity.

So here’s to finding yourself, to that feeling of energy you get when you see clearly. This is an homage to Klapa music, sung in that certain quiet, wordless voice within.