MasterWorks 02: Carmina Burana

Umoja: Anthem of Unity
Valerie Coleman (1970–)
Written: 2001, 2019
Movements: One
Style: Contemporary American
Duration: Ten minutes

Valerie Coleman was born and raised in Louisville, Kentucky. In an interview on NPR in 2006, she detailed her upbringing:

"I grew up in Muhammad Ali's neighborhood, the west end of Louisville. And that is about as inner-city as any inner-city can get. And my mom, she raised me right, and she worked hard at it. . . . My dad died when I was nine years old, so for the most part, when he died, me and my sisters—you know, my mom became a single mom at that point and she picked up the pieces. And somehow, she sent us all to college and just pulled it together and made it possible for us to get our education. . ."

Early on Valerie developed a love for music by playing the flute. She started her formal music education in the fourth grade. By the time she was fourteen, she had already written three full-length symphonies and had won several local and state competitions. After graduating from high school, she attended Boston University where she received her bachelor’s degrees in both theory/composition and flute performance. She then attended the Mannes School of Music for her master’s degree in flute performance. 

While she was in college she came face-to-face with the lack of diversity in “classical” music education:

"I used to be in the youth orchestra, and there were so many African Americans. But somewhere along the line, when I got to college, I was the only one in the orchestra. So I wondered what in the world happened here? It came to my mind that role models are needed."
    

Valerie became that role model by forming Imani Winds, a woodwind quintet dedicated to highlighting the work of underrepresented composers and performers. Since their founding, the group has won numerous awards and commissioned many pieces. 
    

Valerie was named as one of the “Top 35 Women Composers” by The Washington Post, and she was named Performance Today’s 2020 Classical Woman of the Year. Her most recent compositions have been performed by orchestras all across the country; and she was recently named to the Metropolitan Opera/Lincoln Center Theater New Works dual commissioning program. Umoja, her signature work for wind quintet, was listed as one of the "Top 101 Great American Works" by Chamber Music America. The orchestral version of Umoja was commissioned by the Philadelphia Orchestra and premiered by them in 2019. Coleman comments:

In its original form, Umoja, the Swahili word for “Unity” and the first principle of the African Diaspora holiday Kwanzaa, was composed as a simple song for women's choir. It embodied a sense of 'tribal unity', through the feel of a drum circle, the sharing of history through traditional “call and response” form and the repetition of a memorable sing-song melody. It was rearranged into woodwind quintet form during the genesis of [the] chamber music ensemble, Imani Winds, with the intent of providing an anthem that celebrated the diverse heritages of the ensemble itself.

Almost two decades later from the original, the orchestral version brings an expansion and sophistication to the short and sweet melody, beginning with sustained ethereal passages that float and shift from a bowed vibraphone, supporting the introduction of the melody by solo violin. Here the melody is sweetly singing in its simplest form with an earnestness reminiscent of Appalachian style music. From there, the melody dances and weaves throughout the instrument families, interrupted by dissonant viewpoints led by the brass and percussion sections, which represent the clash of injustices, racism and hate that threatens to gain a foothold in the world today. Spiky textures turn into an aggressive exchange between upper woodwinds and percussion before a return to the melody as a gentle reminder of kindness and humanity. Through the brass-led ensemble tutti, the journey ends with a bold call of unity that harkens back to the original anthem.

Umoja has seen the creation of many versions that are like siblings to one another: similar in many ways, but each with a unique voice that is informed by [my] ever evolving creativity and perspective.

This version honors the simple melody that ever was but is now a full exploration into the meaning of freedom and unity. Now more than ever, Umoja has to ring as a strong and beautiful anthem for the world we live in today.

©2023 John P. Varineau and Valerie Coleman
 

Carmina Burana
Carl Orff (1895–1982)
Composed: 1935–1936
Style: Contemporary
Duration: 58 minutes

The Latin title of tonight’s major work, translated literally as “Songs of Beuren,” comes from the Abby of Benediktbeuren where a book of poems was discovered in 1803. The Abbey is located about 30 miles south of Munich, where the composer Carl Orff was born, educated, and spent most of his life.

The 13th century book contains roughly 200 secular poems that describe medieval times. The poems, written by wandering scholars and clerics known as Goliards, attack and satirize the hypocrisy of the Church while praising the self-indulgent virtues of love, food, and drink. Their language and form often parody liturgical phrases and conventions. Similarly, Orff often uses the styles and conventions of 13th century church music, most notably plainchant, to give an air of seriousness and reverence to the texts that their actual meaning could hardly demand. In addition to plainchant, however, the eclectic music material relies upon all kinds of historical antecedents— from flamenco rhythms (no. 17, “Stetit puella”) to operatic arias (no. 21, “Intrutina”) to chorale texture (no. 24, “Ave formosissima”).
 
The 24 poems that compose Carmina Burana are divided into three large sections— “Springtime,” “In the Tavern,” and “Court of Love”—plus a prologue and epilogue. The work begins with the chorus “Fortuna imperatrix mundi” (“Fortune, Empress of the World”), which bemoans humankind’s helplessness in the face of the fickle wheel of fate. “Rising first, then declining, hateful life treats us badly, then with kindness, making sport of our desires.” After a brief morality tale, “Fortune plango vunera,” the “Springtime” section begins. As one would expect of springtime, the choruses and dances are spritely and optimistic. “Behold the welcome, long-awaited spring, which brings back pleasure and with crimson flowers adorns the fields.”

Only men sing the second part, “In the Tavern.” It begins and ends with a lusty drinking song, between which two stories are told, including the famously difficult “Olim lacus colueram,” a wailing tenor song, sung from the perspective of a swan being roasted, served, and eaten at a feast!

The third part, “Cour d’amours,” celebrates sensual, erotic pleasures. “If a boy and girl linger together, happy is their union. Increasing love leaves tedious good sense far behind, and inexpressible pleasure fills their limbs, their arms, their limbs.” The music for this section is more gentle and seductive. The soprano sings stories of love, while the baritone soloist offers himself as a solution to her longings. Eventually she submits, singing the rapturous “Dulcissime.” The work ends as it began: with an awareness of the intervening and ever-present wheel of fate.
The drama of Carmina Burana comes not from the novelty of its characters or plot, but rather from the listener’s own understanding of the human condition. As Karl Schumann wrote, “No individual destiny is touched upon—there are no dramatic personae in the normal sense of the term. Instead, primeval forces are invoked, such as the ever-turning wheel of fortune, the reviving power of spring, the intoxicating effect of love, and those elements in man that prompt him to the enjoyment of earthly and all-too-earthly pleasures.”

©2023 John P. Varineau