Aileen Walker, who sings alto in the GSA Choir, writes about her experience of rehearsing The Alphabet of Jasmine – composed by Dee Isaacs, with lyrics by Gerda Stevenson.
Music touches the emotions. Poetry too. Singing in a choir, I find, is at times almost spiritual. And when the subject matter you are singing about is powerful and harrowing…it’s a wonder we get through choir rehearsals some evenings without dissolving in tears.
We are halfway through learning the seven wonderful choral works commissioned by the GSA Choir as part of Composeher. Recently we have been getting to know Dee’s composition, The Alphabet of Jasmine: a trio of songs with words by Gerda Stevenson. It is an intensely emotional work dedicated to refugees – and to some of those who have spent their lives helping them – on the island of Leros in Greece, where Dee has worked.
I understand Dee and Gerda have collaborated musically before. It shows. The words and music are so closely intertwined, conveying the terror, confusion, bewilderment and longing of those fleeing war, looking for sanctuary. The songs speak in turn in the voice of an adult, in the voices of children, and finish with a blessing. It is a hauntingly beautiful, evocative piece.
The first movement – Nine Fathoms Deep – chillingly conjures the desperation of those who risks their lives to cross unforgiving seas in the dead of night. ‘Far from the homes we know…We are lost to humankind…Our dreams migrate like paper kites, dissolve, fade, evaporate.’ Many, as we all know, don’t make it. The music wafts us to and fro, drifting on the seabed.
The second song introduces the wonderfully poetic Arabic phrase of its title, ‘abjadiat alyasimin’, which means ‘the alphabet of jasmine’. You can almost smell the sweet scent of jasmine in its gentle melodic rhythm, recalling the emotional ties and the precious things those fleeing conflict have left behind. Will children remember their mother tongue? And what of the babies born away from their homeland? What will they know of their heritage, their language? Will ‘the alphabet of jasmine’ still bloom in them?
The opening line of the third song – The Baker of Idlib – is shockingly stark: ‘His children did not know yet that in his shop he now lay dead.’ (The city of Idlib was the focus of much violent fighting during the Syrian civil war.) The horror of war depicted in scenes of ordinary daily life – the baker making bread. Yet the words and music somehow manage to turn this destruction into ‘a blessing of bread’ by the end of the movement.
Sadly, the messages in this wonderful composition continue to be relevant as one war and refugee crisis succeeds another: Syria, Afghanistan, Ukraine…
Musically, I found the rapid time signature changes in the second song, The Alphabet of Jasmine, tricky. The music and the words are conveying the rhythm of the language – ‘light and fleet of tongue, intricate as the running gazelle.’ It was challenging to get the timing right, and I know that in the choir we all so desperately want to get these brilliant compositions right. Under the expert tuition of our Musical Director, Jamie, it all fell into place.
I am constantly amazed at the way the Glasgow School of Art Choir tackles new work and rises to difficult challenges. I have only been a member since I moved (back) to Glasgow a year ago. I was looking for a choir which performed an interesting repertoire and which would stretch me. I didn’t know how lucky I was alighting on the GSA Choir. For a non-auditioned, amateur chorus – some of whose members don’t read music – it tackles complex works and produces amazing results. That the choir devised Composeher, to highlight female composers, further illustrates what a bold force it is!
It is a joy and a privilege to be learning the impressive Composeher works. I seriously hope we do them justice.