our sacred home, our suns that never set

our future is the future, our meaning is the

meaning

our shields are wisdom, unity and peace

our sacrifice of every drop of blood

our love, our service, our untiring zeal

our prayer for us, unseen

our fires of hope and prayer

our thunderbolts, our fire

our star, and it will shine forever

our light and song and soul

our song forevermore

our own dear land

our fate, which smiles once more

our sacrifice, our blood, our souls

our enemies, scattered and confounded

our land, our home, our free, our brave

our land, our grave

our glory, for as long as the world shines

our many ways before and our many ways

today

our rock, our beacon

our scream out loud

our steps, resounding on the long and tiring

road

our song—echoing over and over again

our brothers and sisters under the sun

may the rains come

Admission to the National Gallery ofArt

and all of its programs is free of charge,

except as noted.

The use of cameras or recording equipment during the performance is not

allowed. Please be sure that all portable

electronic devices are turned off.

The department of music produced

these program notes. Copyright © 2017

Board ofTrustees, National Gallery of

Art, Washington

Concerts are made possible in part

through the generosity of donors to

the National Gallery ofArt through

The Circle. Reserved seating is available

in recognition of their support. Please 

contact the development office at 

(202) 842-6450 or circle@nga.gov for 

more information.

Cover Winslow Homer, Autumn (detail), 

1877, National Gallery ofArt, Washington,

Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Paul Mellon

nga.gov/music

76TH SEASON OF CONCERTS

NOVEMBER 12, 2017 / NATIONAL GALLERY OF ART
The Crossing, Photo by Becky Oehlers

2

Program

The Crossing

Donald Nally, Conductor

Featuring members ofInternational Contemporary Ensemble (ICE)

NOVEMBER 12, 2017/3:30

WEST BUILDING, WEST GARDEN COURT

Ted Hearne (b. 1982)

Consent

Caroline Shaw (b. 1982)

“To the Hands” from Seven Responses

Commissioned for The Crossing’s Seven Responses, 2016

Featuring members of ICE

Ted Hearne

“What It Might Say” from JeffQuartets

Commissioned for The Crossing’s JeffQuartets, 2016

David Lang (b. 1957)

the national anthems

Featuring members of ICE

Program subject to change

3
The Musicians

THE CROSSING

The Crossing is a professional chamber choir dedicated to new music and conducted

by Donald Nally. Formed by a group of friends in 2005, the ensemble has since grown, 

receiving many national awards and exemplary critical reviews in the New York Times

(“hypnotic and ethereally beautiful”), and the LosAngeles Times (“ardently angelic”).

With a commitment to record its many commissions, The Crossing is releasing

five CDs during the 2016-2017 season; its collaboration with the Prism Quartet on

Gavin Bryars’s The Fifth Century was among the Chicago Tribune's Top 10 Classical 

CDs of 2016, and the choir’s recording ofThomas Lloyd’s Bonhoejfer was nominated

for the 2017 Grammy as Best Choral Performance. Its recent recording ofTed

Hearne’s Soundfrom the Bench was called “groundbreaking” by the Philadelphia

Inquirer. The Crossing’s numerous collaborations include work with the Los Angeles 

Philharmonic, ICE, the American Composers Orchestra, and the Rolling Stones; the

group has sung at Walt Disney Concert Hall, the Kennedy Center, Symphony Space,

Carnegie Hall, the Metropolitan Museum ofArt, National Sawdust, and the Barnes 

Foundation in Philadelphia.

The Crossing

Katy Avery

Nathaniel Barnett

Jessica Beebe

Julie Bishop 

Karen Blanchard

Steven Bradshaw 

Colin Dill 

Micah Dingier

Robert Eisentrout

DONALD NALLY

Donald Nally is responsible for imagining, programming, and conducting T he 

Crossing and has commissioned over sixty works. He is also the John W. Beattie

Chair in Music and director of choral organizations at Northwestern LTiversity. He

has held distinguished tenures as chorus master for Lyric Opera of Chicago, Welsh

National Opera, Opera Philadelphia, Spoleto USA, Italy’s Spoleto Festival, and the

Chicago Bach Project. Nally has guest conducted the Latvian State Choir in Riga,

the Grant Park Symphony Chorus in Chicago, the Philharmonic Chorus of London,

and the Santa Fe Desert Chorale.

Ryan Fleming

Joanna Gates

Dimitri German

Steven Hyder

Michael Jones

Heather Kayan

Maren Montalbano

Rebecca Myers

Daniel O’Dea

Becky Oehlers

Daniel Schwartz

Rebecca Siler 

Daniel Spratlan

Elisa Sutherland

Shari Wdson

John Grecia, accompanist

4

INTERNATIONAL CONTEMPORARY ENSEMBLE

The International Contemporary Ensemble (ICE) is an artist collective committed

to transforming the way music is created and experienced. As performer, curator, and

educator, ICE explores how new music intersects with communities throughout the

world. The ensemble’s thirty-five members are featured as soloists, chamber musicians, commissioners, and collaborators with the foremost musical artists of our time.

A recipient of the American Music Center’s Trailblazer Award and the Chamber

Music America/ASCAP Award for Adventurous Programming, ICE was also named

the 2014 Musical America Ensemble of the Year. The group currently serves as artists

in residence at the Lincoln Center’s Mostly Mozart Festival and previously led a fiveyear residency at Chicago’s Museum of Contemporary Art. The group’s new initiatives include OpenICE, which offers free concerts and related programming wherever

ICE performs; DigitICE, which catalogues the ensemble’s performances in a free,

online video library; First Page, ICE’s commissioning consortium that fosters close collaborations between performers, composers, and listeners as new music is developed; 

and EntICE, a youth program that places ICE musicians within youth orchestras as

they premiere new commissioned works together.

International Contemporary Ensemble (ICE)

Josh Modney and Jen Curtis, violin 

Wendy Richman, viola

Chris Gross, violoncello

Tony FTynt, contrabass

5
Program Notes

CONSENT/COMPOSER’S NOTE BY TED HEARNE

“T he purpose ofthese untranslated and mystical utterances was

to sidestep the Devil and to reach God directly.”—Teju Cole,

from an essay about Loquebantur Variis Linguis and the tradition

of “speaking in tongues.”

“T here is a gestalt that orders things together, and if you pull

back further, there’s another order there; the things are arranged,

they are for some reason, it might not be a rational reason, but

there is a reason.”—David Byrne, regarding his album with

Talking Heads, Speaking in Tongues

I originally wrote Consent to be paired with a performance of the remarkably beautiful motet Loquebantur Variis Linguis by Thomas Tallis, in which the composer sets the

text “the apostles spoke in different tongues.”

The above ideas— that to communicate with the Holy Spirit one had to bypass

language entirely, that the structure and meaning of language is inextricably linked to 

the power structures and hierarchies that created it—set me on a journey to explore

language that might have a duplicitous role in my own life.

T he text for Consent is a juxtaposition of passages from five different sources: 

love letters I wrote in 2002, love letters my father wrote in 1962, the Catholic Rite of

Marriage, the TraditionalJewish Ketubah (wedding contract), and text messages by 

high school students T rent Mays and Lucas Herrington that were used as evidence in

the infamous Steubenville Rape Trial in 2013.1 set these words in order to explore

my personal relationship to gender inequality and our connection to language that

justifies sexual violence.

text

i want you

i want to

i want you

i want to

i want you

i want to

I do.

6

I was thinking penetrating thoughts about you

It will be good, we can do it, and we need it.

It can be taken from me—even from the shirt on

my back.

I was thinking penetrating thoughts about you

It will be good, we can do it, and we need it 

I miss you too, in a heartaching kind of way.

All of it shall be mortgageable and bound as security—

It can be taken from me—even from the shirt on my back.

I do.

I just took care of your daughter.

Declare your consent

The missing you hurts

You’ll be in it soon

What a way to feel

Who gives this woman

i want you

i want to

All of it shall be mortgageable—

I just took care ofyour daughter

and bound as security—

she said you could take a picture

i want you

i want to

I just took care of your daughter and made sure

she was safe

she was so in love with me that night

I ask you to state your intentions

All ofit shall be mortgageable and bound as security— 

it can be taken from me, even from the shirt on

my back—

during my lifetime and after this lifetime, 

this day and forever.

7
I just took care of your daughter and made sure

she was safe

she said you could take a picture+

she looks dead lmao*

I do.

I was thinking penetrating thoughts about you 

It will be good, we can do it, and we need it.

I miss you too, in a heartaching kind of way

I’m really looking forward to adding to it

All ofit can be mortgageable and bound as security— 

it can be taken from me—even from the shirt on

my back—

during my lifetime and after this lifetime

this day and forever

How have you been holding out on me with that

picture for so long?

she said you could take a picture

oh i am looking at all my pictures of you

You don’t even want to know what I’m imagining you doing right now

she was so in love with me that night

Declare your consent before God

I just took care of your daughter when she was

drunk

This original amount, I accept upon myself and

my heirs after me—

It can be paid from the best part of my property

and possessions

that I own under all the heavens.

All ofit shall be mortgageable and bound as

security—

it can be taken from me—even from the shirt on 

my back—

during my lifetime and after this lifetime—

from this day and forever.

8

text talk for laughing my ass off

even from the shirt on my back

she said you could take a picture

I refuse to get excited

Will you accept children lovingly from God?

Declare your consent before God and the church.

I felt knowing what was right

she looks dead lmao

i just took care of your daughter

but i also know we are equal to almost any...

she said you could take a picture

Who gives this woman?

“TO THE HANDS" FROM SEVEN RESPONSES / COMPOSER’S NOTE BY CAROLINE SHAW

How does one respond to an image of another person’s pain? And how does one

respond to the music of another artist who is trying to ask that same question? T hese

are the two queries that anchored my approach to The Crossing’s incredible Seven

Responses project. “To the Hands” begins and ends with strains of Buxtehude’s own Ad

manus, with small harmonic and melodic references woven occasionally throughout.

T he division of the piece into six parts reflects the partitioning ofMembra Jesu Nostri,

and I continued the tradition of blending old text with new.

1'he first movement acts as a prelude and turns the opening tune ofAd manus

into a wordless, plain chant melody. The second movement fragments Buxtehude’s

setting of the central question, “quid sunt plague istae in medio manuum tuarum,” or 

“what are these wounds in the midst of your hands?” It settles finally on an inversion

of the question, so that we reflect, “What are these wounds in the midst of our 

hands?” We notice what may have been done to us, but we also question what we

have done and what our role has been in these wounds we see before us.

T he text that follows in the third movement is a riff on Emma Lazarus’s sonnet 

“The New Colossus,” famous for its engraving at the base of the Statue of Liberty.

The poem’s lines “Give me your tired, your poor,/ Your huddled masses yearning to 

breathe free,” and its reference to the statue’s “beacon-hand,” present a very different 

image of a hand—one that is open, beckoning, and strong. No wounds are to be

found there—only comfort for those caught in a dangerous and complex environment. While the third movement operates in broad strokes from a distance, the

fourth zooms in on the map so far that we see the intimate scene of an old woman in

her home, maybe setting the table for her dinner. Who is she, where has she been,

whose lives has she left? This simple image melts into a meditation on the words in

caverna from the Song of Solomon, found in Buxtehude’s fourth section, Ad latus.

9
In the fifth movement, the harmony is passed around from one string instrument

to another, overlapping only briefly, while numerical figures are spoken by the choir.

These are global figures of internally displaced persons, by country, sourced from the

Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre data reported in May 2015. Sometimes

data is the crudest and most honest poetry.

The sixth and final movement unfolds the words in caverna into the tumbling 

and comforting promise of “ever ever”—“ever ever will I hold you, ever ever will I

enfold you.” They could be the words of Christ, or of a parent or friend or lover, or

even of a nation.

I.

Prelude: wordless

II.

in medio, in medio.

in medio manuum tuarum

quid sunt plague istae in medio

manuum tuarum

quid sunt plagae istae in medio

manuum nostrarum

in the midst, in the midst.

in the midst of your hands

what are those wounds in the midst of

your hands

what are those wounds in the midst of

our hands

— from Buxtehude’s Admanus (Zechariah

1 3:6, adapted bv the composer, with the

addition of “in medio manuum nostrum”

[in the midst of our hands])

III.

Her beacon-hand beckons: 

give

give to me

those yearning to breathe free 

tempest-tossed they cannot see

what lies beyond the olive tree

whose branch was lost amid the pleas

for mercy, mercy

give

give to me

your tired fighters fleeing flying

from the

from the

from

let them

i will be your refuge

i will be your refuge

i will be

i will be

we will be

we will

— the composer, responding to the i88t

sonnet “The New Colossus” bv Emma 

Lazarus, which was mounted on the pedestal

of the Statue of Liberty in 1903

IV.

ever ever ever 

in the windowsills or

the beveled edges

of the aging wooden frames that hold

old photographs

hands folded

folded

gently in her lap

ever ever 

in the crevices

10

the neverending efforts of

the grandmother’s tendons tending

to her bread and empty chairs

left for elijahs

where are they now

in caverna

in caverna

—the composer, the final line, “in caverna,”

is drawn from Buxtehude’s Ad laws, from the

Song of Songs: “in the clefts of the rock, in

the hollow of the cliff.”

V.

The choir speaks global figures ofinternally

displaced persons, by country.

VI.

i will hold you

i will hold you 

ever ever will i hold you

ever ever will i enfold you

in medio in medio

—the composer, with the final line a reprise

from the original Zechariah text

“WHAT IT MIGHT SAY” FROM JEFF QUARTETS / COMPOSER’S NOTE BY TED HEARNE

The piece adapts an excerpt from “Communication between infant and mother, and

mother and infant, compared and contrasted” by D.W. Winnicott (1896-1971).

So in the end we can come down to the fact that the baby

communicates creatively and in time becomes able to use what is

found. For most people the ultimate compliment is to be found

and used, and I suppose, therefore, that these words could

represent the communication of the baby with the mother.

I find you;

You survive what I do to you as I come to 

recognize you as not-me;

I use you;

I forget you;

But you remember me;

I keep forgetting you;

I lose you;

I am sad.

11
THE NATIONAL ANTHEMS / COMPOSER’S NOTE BY DAVID LANG

Every country has a history—how it came to be, how its wars were won or lost, how

strong its people are, or how proud, or how sad. We group ourselves into nations, but

it has never really been clear to me what that means, or what we get out of it. Are we

grouped together because we believe something together and are proud of associating with others who believe the same way? Or are we grouped together because our

ancestors found themselves pushed onto a piece ofland by people who didn’t want

them on theirs? It seems that all nations have some bright periods and some dark

periods in their past. Building a national myth out of our bright memories probably

creates a different character than if we build one out of the dark.

I had the idea that if I looked carefully at every national anthem I might be able 

to identify something that everyone in the world could agree on. If I could take just 

one hopeful sentence from the national anthem of every nation in the world, I might

be able to make a kind of meta-anthem of the things that we all share. I started

combing through the anthems, pulling out from each the sentence that seemed to me 

the most committed. What I found, to my shock and surprise, was that within almost

every anthem is a bloody, warlike, tragic core, in which we cover up our deep fears of

losing our freedoms with waves of aggression and bravado.

At first I didn’t know what to do with this text. I didn’t want to make a piece that

was aggressive, or angry, or ironic. Instead, I read and re-read the meta-anthem I had

made until another thought became clear to me. Hiding in every national anthem is

the recognition that we are insecure about our freedoms, that freedom is fragile, and

delicate, and easy to lose. Maybe an anthem is a memory informing a kind of prayer, 

a heartfelt plea:

There was a time when we wereforced to live in chains.

Please don’t make us live in chains again.

I.

our land with peace 

our land with swords 

all of us are brave 

we have one wish 

we have one goal

we swear by lightning

and by our fragrant blood

heaven gave us life

and we alone remain

we fight for peace 

our country calls us

and we hear her call

we hear the sound of our chains breaking

we crown ourselves in glory and we die

death is the same tor everyone

but dying tor our land will make us blessed

for we are young and free

land with mountain

land with river

land with field

if you need our death

our blood, our heart, our soul

we are ready

12

we lift our heads up to the rising sun

our peace

our values

our skies

our hearts

our songs

our tears

our time

our land

our seed

our pride

we have no doubts or fears

our faithful friends

are faithful in the battle

our land, we swear to you

our blood is yours to spill

keep watch, angels 

keep watch, stars 

keep watch, moon

our parents knew how to fight

the sun will shine on us forever

when the wicked come

let them prepare tor death

tor we would rather die

than live as slaves

our land, you fill our souls with fire

our blessed land

our parents left this land to us

our hearts defy our deaths

a vivid ray of love and hope descends

upon us and our land

bless us with long life

our land is love and beauty without end

harvest our vows, which ripen underneath

your sun

our land, to lead a peaceful life

we give our lives

we were wounded

we were bruised

then we rose up

our past is sleeping in our forests

you are our garden

and our grave

II.

our hearts are glowing

sing brother, sister

our freedom must be sung

we were slaves

we were scorned

but now, our future is ours

our flowers

our fields

our fertile soil

we will die before we let

the wicked step upon them

we are not slaves

we are the seed that sprouts

upon the fields of pain

we are one blood

on our land we were born

our heads were bowed—

now raise them

we are wild with joy

and if we have to die

what does it matter?

our children know

the fight has made our faces glow

sweet shelter

kissed by our sun, our trees, our wind

we don’t fear death

die for our land and live

we know our selves

by our terrifying sword

ours is our land

ours is our beautiful land

our land is where

our heroes rest

our earth

our sky

our peace

our blood

these are our gifts

we broke our chains

united, firm, determined

our face is brighter than our sun

13
we are our loyal guardian

in each of us the hero remembers how to fight

we walk the path of happiness

to our rightful place

with our last breath

we thank ourselves

III.

fame and glory

fame and glory

no valley 

no hill

no water

no shore

the bloody flag is raised

the wicked howl

they come to cut our throats

to throw us back in chains

no sorcerers

no poison

no deceivers

no fear

we strive

we work

we pray

our star rises up

and shines between two seas

our heart and hand

are the pledges ot our fortune

with mind and strength of arm

we recognize ourselves

by our terrifying sword

with heads, with hearts, with hands

we will die before we are made slaves

our historic past

our sun, our sweat, our sea

our pain, our hope

the flower of our blood

branches of the same trunk

eyes in the same light

the sea, the land, the dawn, the sun are

singing

our parents never saw the glory that we see

we turn our faces up

there is a star, the clearest light

bring us happier times and ways

each day is like a thousand years

victory, victory, victory

long live our land, our people, our body, our

soul

the light in our eyes is the brilliance of our

faith

will we see you?

our woe or our wealth

our eyes turn east

we are awake

IV

keep us tree

he our light

until pebbles turn to boulders

and are covered in moss

our light and our guide

golden sun, golden seed

fill our hearts with thanks

when our hearts beat as one

show us the way

until the mountains wear away

and the seas run dry

be safe and be glorious

build our own fortune

move forward

our sons sing

our daughters bloom

our parents and our children

await our call

our peace

our rain

be green

we are your sacrifice

fortunate and faithful

the sun drives off the clouds

we risk everything

we sing new songs

14

for you, for you, forever

our love, our zeal, our loyalty

our land, where our blood spills

our fields will flower with hope

our land gives us our name

and we will never leave

we walk the path we have chosen

we will die while we are on it

our land, sweet is your beauty

a thousand heroes

our full measure of devotion

our language is a burning flame

our flag flies in the wind

our unwavering land

our rocky hills

from where our lights rise up

our name is freedom

our blood waters it

we pray for you

woven from a hundred flowers

we won’t let the wicked wash their hands

in this guiltless blood of ours

may our blessings flow

let nothing dim the light

that’s shining in our sky

a single leap

into the dazzling sky

obey our call

we are not many

but we are enough

be happy

and may our land be happy

interpret our past

glorify our present

inspire our future

we are coming forth

with strength and power

our seas roar at our feet

shout our name

shout it again

there is no middle ground

between the free man and the slave

may the light be denied us

if we break our solemn vow

the burning of the heart

in our chests is alive

our land will not die

as long as we live

the rays of the sun 

are a mother’s kiss

we swear by the sky

by the spreading light

now, or never

we will make our late ourselves 

it was, it is, it will always be

at last, our pride is worth our pride

V.

our common fate

our brighter day

our loyalty and love and vow

our crown

our virtuous honor

our sacred hymn of combat

our light, reflecting guidance

our sword with no flaw

our sepulcher ot ages

our only land

our voices on high

our noble aspiration

our thunders, wildly beating

our fire in every vein

our tears, flowing down our cheeks

our everlasting mountains

our milk, our honey, our people wor

hard

our different voices, our one heart

our breath of life

our death, our glory and our land

our fight—there is a fight to fight

our fair land, its hills and rivers 

our memories of days long gone

our morning skies, grown red