The human voice does sound so clear to me
This Saturday with Quince in front (although
Just three appear’d to sing) to ring my ears,
A sound so pure echo’d the room, my thoughts.
Across the stage they mov’d and turned to sil-
Houettes – their voice, body cover’d with red
Evok’d the souls of those long gone to sing
A song of what we shall not know, our de-
Finitions differ, deep inside we find.
Listen! Trumpets do sound in three, a coun-
Terpoint so intricate does not relent.
Muldoon transforms the voice to brass after
We heard the resonance of strings, and next
Three Songs for Nobody shall soothe our hearts.
Cello appears and bows for steel, a Fre-
Quency buffet for us to eat, sample –
A fitting piece for Festival. Up next,
Tristese transports us to a sea, or floats
Us through a field, in tow again wisdom
Of those pass’d on into the afterlife.
We dive further into the sea – sonar
Guides us into the pool that whirls. I see
That Quince explores relationships between
A space and sound; an ear and mouth, a veil
Makes clear and brings with it answers which we
Already know but need to hear again.
Intermission, a break – they stay, evolve
Into a world electrified by Block.
The first we hear, interference perform’d
By Quince, Olivia, and waves encode
A letter read aloud again coher-
Ent to the ear, but not for us to know
The message being sung. The same when Ca-
Rol joins the fun, perhaps the story lay
Inside us all. For me the sound render’d
Me in a trace, so hypnotized I liv’d
My life again as though a twenty-three
Year deja-vu was all I were, will ev-
Er be, and all that I remain. White noise,
Ostinati, and voice so gently plac’d
Between silence reflect my life thus far,
Illuminated by a wand’ring star.
– Derek Carter