Gravity
Gravity explores our present world's disorienting fusion of hyper-connection and disconnection (exacerbated by 24-hour news cycles and the COVID-19 pandemic), and how in the making time for beauty we can find solace. The text is inspired by the real life experience of poet Lauren Peat, who stumbled across a gathering of people taking in “social distance sunset” over Lake Ontario at the height of the first wave of COVID-19 lockdowns.
This work was a finalist for the 2020 ACDA Genesis Prize. Both the music and poetry were commissioned by Elise Naccarato for the singers of Chorus Niagara and Myriad Ensemble through the support of the Canada Council of the Arts. It was premiered virtually on May 31, 2021.
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Note from the poet
In early May of 2020––the height of the first COVID-19 quarantine––I stumbled across a group of people who had gathered, masked and socially distanced, to watch the sun set over Lake Ontario. I then returned, evening after evening, to witness the same scene. There was a gravity to the routine, in all the senses of that word: a kind of solemnity, yes, but also a gravitational force––a groundedness in the rituals of gathering, making time for beauty. In the midst of a dark time, I found community in an anonymous group, each member co-witnessing the fading light over Lake Ontario. There was no choral singing involved, and yet the experience was not wholly unlike choral singing: at its heart was the singular pleasure of sharing space, and sharing light. — L.P.
Note from the composer
Musically, I endeavoured to paint the story of the ‘sunset gathering’ that Lauren describes in her poem — from the slow gathering of onlookers to the final glimpse of the setting sun. Listen for the ‘sunset motif’ in the opening piano part, which returns and transforms throughout the work as the s reflects on and eventually disappears into the lake. As well, the calm and constancy of the lake can be heard in the sustained supporting choral textures, which swell and decay like waves in the water. Throughout the piece, these are contrasted with flourishing melodic lines, sometimes freely echoed, representing shimmering reflections of light on the water. — K.G.
In early May of 2020––the height of the first COVID-19 quarantine––I stumbled across a group of people who had gathered, masked and socially distanced, to watch the sun set over Lake Ontario. I then returned, evening after evening, to witness the same scene. There was a gravity to the routine, in all the senses of that word: a kind of solemnity, yes, but also a gravitational force––a groundedness in the rituals of gathering, making time for beauty. In the midst of a dark time, I found community in an anonymous group, each member co-witnessing the fading light over Lake Ontario. There was no choral singing involved, and yet the experience was not wholly unlike choral singing: at its heart was the singular pleasure of sharing space, and sharing light. — L.P.
Note from the composer
Musically, I endeavoured to paint the story of the ‘sunset gathering’ that Lauren describes in her poem — from the slow gathering of onlookers to the final glimpse of the setting sun. Listen for the ‘sunset motif’ in the opening piano part, which returns and transforms throughout the work as the s reflects on and eventually disappears into the lake. As well, the calm and constancy of the lake can be heard in the sustained supporting choral textures, which swell and decay like waves in the water. Throughout the piece, these are contrasted with flourishing melodic lines, sometimes freely echoed, representing shimmering reflections of light on the water. — K.G.