"Rezos ("Prayers"), by Tania León February 19, 2023

"Rezos ("Prayers"), by Tania León, was given its East Coast premiere by The New York Virtuoso Singers, Harold Rosenbaum, conductor, at their concert "American Invention," presented in New York City on February 19, 2023.
About “Rezos" (‘Prayers”)
"Rezos" ("Prayers") is a sound palette propelled by a series of complex chords that dissolve into simple sounds, sudden interruptions and/or silence. The harmonic environment of these substantial sounds is my reflection of masses of people, raising their voices in heartfelt, collective prayer. The rhythmic environment of "Rezos" is, at times, influenced by indigenous overtones of the many cultures of the Americas. "Rezos" was created using excerpts of text from three works in Jamaica Kincaid's collection, "At the Bottom of the River." The power of her words became for me a kind of personal invocation. The final piece in "Rezos" contains the text "Sing again, Sing now," reassuring and urging us to keep our spirits uplifted. - Tania León
Tania León is highly regarded as a composer, conductor, educator and advisor to arts organizations. Her orchestral work “Stride,” commissioned by the New York Philharmonic, was awarded the 2021 Pulitzer Prize in Music. Born in Havana, Cuba, she has been the subject of profiles on ABC, CBS, CNN, PBS, Univision and independent films. In July 2022, she was named a recipient of the 45th Annual Kennedy Center Honors for lifetime artistic achievements. Born in Havana, Cuba, she has been the subject of profiles on ABC, CBS, CNN, PBS, Univision and independent films.
Text to "Rezos" by Jamaica Kincaid, from her book "At the Bottom of the River"
1. …from Home
I milked the cows,
I churned the butter,
I stored the cheese,
I baked the bread,
I brewed the tea,
I washed the clothes,
I dressed the children;
the cat meowed,
the dog barked,
the horse neighed,
the mouse squeaked,
the door banged shut,
the stairs creaked,
the fridge hummed,
the curtains billowed up,
the pot boiled,
the gas hissed through the stove,
the tree branches heavy with snow
crashed against the roof;
my heart beat loudly thud, thud!
the drawers didn’t close,
the faucets dripped,
the paint peeled,
the walls cracked,
the books tilted over,
the rug no longer lay out flat;
I ate my food,
I chewed each mouthful thirty-two times,
I swallowed carefully,
my toe healed;
there was a night,
it was dark,
there was a moon,
there was a bed,
it held sleep;
there was a movement,
there was a being,
there was a space,
it was full,
then there was nothing;
2. …on the open space
We prayed...
We prayed to be saved,
We prayed to be blessed,
We prayed for long and happy lives for our children,
And always we prayed to see the morning light.
A mountain. A valley. The shade. The sun.
A streak of yellow rapidly conquering a streak of green.
Blending and separating.
Children are so quick:
quick to laugh, quick to brand, quick to scorn,
quick to lay claim to the open space.
The thud of small feet running, running.
An old treasure rudely broken.
See how the amber color fades from its rim.
Now it is the home of something dark and moist.
An ant walking on a sheet of tin laid bare to the sun-crumbles.
But what is an ant?
But what is a beetle?
What is one fly?
What is one day?
3. …drawing nigh
He looks at the house he has built with his own hands,
the books he has read standing on shelves,
the fruit-bearing trees that he nursed from seedlings,
the larder filled with food that he has provided.
He contemplates the beauty in the common thing:
the sun rising up out of the huge,
shimmering expanse of water that is the sea;
it rises up each day as if made anew,
as if for the first time.
“Sing again, Sing now,”
….he watches the sun, a violent red,
set on the horizon,
he hears the birds fly home,
he sees the insects dancing in the last warmth of the day’s light,
he hears himself sing out loud:
Now the day is over,
Night is drawing nigh;
Shadows of the evening
Steal across the sky.
“Sing again, Sing now,"