Cloudburst (Whitacre)
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Cloudburst is one of Eric Whitacre's more experimental pieces. It is written for eight part choir, accompanied by piano and percussion. The text is from Octavio Paz's poem El Cántaro Roto (The Broken Water-Jug), adapted by Whitacre.
The first section is a cappella, with strikingly discordant but beautiful tone clusters. After an initial section, there is a baritone solo, followed by the development of a new a cappella theme. This continues until a speaking solo (unusual in choral music) backgrounded by music. The choir continues, a cappella, building up to a striking section where the choir literally builds chords up from the base (similar to glissando on a piano).
A few pages later, handbells (which have been hidden from the audience) ring out, and the choir crescendoes into an aleatoric section. During this time, the choir also claps and snaps, and this combines with the vocal lines to create an effect similar to a thunderstorm (thus Cloudburst). The storm gradually builds then fades, and the ending of the piece mirrors the beginning section.
This piece is notable because of its striking aleatoric section and the speaking solo.
Text in original Spanish
La lluvia... Ojos de agua de sombra, Ojos de agua de pozo Ojos de agua de sueño.Soles azules, verdes remolinos, Picos de luz que abren astros Como granadas.
Dime, tierra quemada, no hay agua? Hay solo sangre, solo hay polvo, Sólo pisadas de pies desnudos sobre la espina?
La lluvia despierta...
Hay que dormir con los ojos abiertos,
Hay que soñar con los manos, Soñemos sueños de activos de rio, Buscando su cauce, Sueños de sol soñando sus mundos, Hay que cantar hasta Que el canto eche raíces, Tronco, ramas, pájaros, astros, Hay que desenterrar la palabra perdida, Recordar lo que dicen la sangre y la marea, La tierra y el cuerpo, Volver al punto de partida.
--Octavio Paz
Translated by Lysander Kemp
The rain... Eyes of shadow-water, Eyes of well-water, Eyes of dream-water.This translation appears in the notes of the music.Blue suns, green whirlwinds, Birdbeaks of light pecking open Pomegranate stars.
But tell me, burnt earth, is there no water? Only blood, only dust, Only naked footsteps on the thorns?
The rain awakens...
We must sleep with open eyes We must dream with our hands, We must dream the dreams of a river seeking its course, Of the sun dreaming its worlds, We must dream aloud, We must sing until the song puts forth roots, Trunk, branches, birds, stars, We must find the lost word And remember what the blood, The tides, the earth, and the body say, And return to the point of departure...
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