Official site of composer Andrea Clearfield. Biography, list of works with audio, score samples, reviews and program notes, photographs, upcoming performances.
Scored for: SATB chorus and string quartet Text: Rhina Espaillat Language: English Duration: 8:20 min. Premiere: 8/16/12 Candlelight Chorale, Jay Lane, Artistic Director with Irina Muresanu and Cyrus Beroukhim, violins, David Yang, viola and Caroline Stinson, cello Commissioned by: The Newburyport Chamber Music Festival Published by: Self-published, Angelfire Press
Contact Andrea Clearfield for score and parts:
LISTEN
Painting by Andrew Anderson Bell
TEXT
Three Tenses of Light
for Andrew Anderson-Bell
Sky, meadow and marsh:
a trinity of waters,
three tenses of light.
Tattered horizon,
the far fringes of morning
where new light rises:
Daylight advancing,
igniting sudden loosestrife,
taking the meadow.
Cloud blue flecked with sun:
noon wavering, gold water
fringed with black grasses.
Nothing here to cast
shade, measure the afternoon’s
retreat, its fading
fall into darkness
over marsh and meadow. Sky,
you patient watcher
of all creation,
bend to the sleeping water,
embrace it wholly
through the dark hours,
then rise to bring us, again,
light’s benediction.
Three Tenses of Light
Three Tenses of Light
Scored for: SATB chorus and string quartet
Text: Rhina Espaillat
Language: English
Duration: 8:20 min.
Premiere: 8/16/12 Candlelight Chorale, Jay Lane, Artistic Director with Irina Muresanu and Cyrus Beroukhim, violins, David Yang, viola and Caroline Stinson, cello
Commissioned by: The Newburyport Chamber Music Festival
Published by: Self-published, Angelfire Press
Contact Andrea Clearfield for score and parts:
LISTEN
Painting by Andrew Anderson Bell
TEXT
Three Tenses of Light
for Andrew Anderson-Bell
Sky, meadow and marsh:
a trinity of waters,
three tenses of light.
Tattered horizon,
the far fringes of morning
where new light rises:
Daylight advancing,
igniting sudden loosestrife,
taking the meadow.
Cloud blue flecked with sun:
noon wavering, gold water
fringed with black grasses.
Nothing here to cast
shade, measure the afternoon’s
retreat, its fading
fall into darkness
over marsh and meadow. Sky,
you patient watcher
of all creation,
bend to the sleeping water,
embrace it wholly
through the dark hours,
then rise to bring us, again,
light’s benediction.
Rhina P. Espaillat