William Kentner Anderson November performances in Seoul & Salzburg

In Salzburg--
Mozarteum's Kleine Studio, November 14, 2021

William Anderson "Blue Laws"
settings of poems by Kevin Young
--scroll down for texts--

*grateful thanks* to the brilliant players in the Gunnar Berg Ensemble--
Sharon Harms, soprano
Eric Lamb, alto flute
Yvonne Zehner

This little cycle takes the VI7 -- II7 -- V7 -- I7 tail of the 12-bar blues, undergirding static minor pentatonic above. It's a bizarre convergence. This is instated plainly at the end of the first song, and sneakily in the next two songs.

I can get anywhere I want with blues. And the next piece, "Toward the Field of Sleep", ends with a bluesey Gillian Welch song. It's opening harmony displaces the ATH that ends the opening secion. Please check it out--

“Toward the Field of Sleep” for violin, cello, and piano
by William Anderson

ILSHIN Hall in Seoul, Korea, November 11. 2021
Presented by Ebb & Flow Arts (Maui) & Veritas Musicae (Seoul)

*grateful thanks* to these wonderful players --
YouKyung Kim, violin
SeokWoo Yoon, cello
Jihyun Yoo, piano

Interacting with Korean poets over the last five years through this Veritas/Ebb & Flow project is to participate in a cultural force that is clearly on the rise. (!!) My music has a dreamlike relationship to the poem, but much of the poem is there--certainly marching, sheep's flock of cloud, striking. Dissipation is in the all trichord hexachord, a dissolving in the everything of all the trichords compressed into a single harmony thing.

I will add clarinet in the next incarnation of this piece.

Towards the Field of Sleep

sleep’s soldiers
clasping small spears and shields
advance and retire

(beneath my eyelids
the field of sleep densely spreads)
strike/struck strike/struck strike/struck
dissipating like dust

what’s going on?
where did you come from?
no clue
let’s become cloud holding hands
let’s disappear as one
like that like that like that
sleep’s flock of cloud

suddenly hrmph!
as the body jerks

the field of sleep breaks
the soldiers disappear
that spider’s thread of sleep is torn

towards the field of sleep again
nearing slipping
I call through
spider’s thread spider’s thread spider’s thread

to sleep’s soldiers
who will one day seize me for eternity

Blue Laws

poems by Kevin Young

1 — POISON OASIS { 1981 }

Such church hurts—

all haloes, crowns,

coins ancient,

flattened. Cross-

roads. Money changes

hands stained

like glass. Mirror,

mirage—the dog

a praying mantis at his

feet. Basquiat eyes

the needle, needs

a fix—if the camel fits—

heaven. Gimme

some smack

or I’ll smack

you back. Which side

should he pierce,

where to place

the dromedary

in his vein? Each opening

fills with wine

a wound. Hollowed

ground. Blood

of our blood—

Basquiat trades

Golgotha, skulls

& all, for an armful

of stigmata.

Runs a game,

plays snakes

& ladders, shooting




Even falling

has its grace—injection

& genuflection

both bring you

to your knees,

make you prey.

2 — Whistle

And then he can whistle

This son, moon

of mine

circling, the name

we gave to the far side

of the satellite,

this thunder

in the near distance

heralding summer,

grown thirsty,

plummeting down

suddenly, drenching

the dog & drought-fed

lawn. Nothing

for once is wrong—

cicadas quieted,

the rain’s metal smell,

a train on time


& that sound now his—

as if a kiss

might make music.

3 — An Hymn to the Morning

Faith for me is waking—

a stitch in my neck

or back,

Back Awake—

Tho it is still dark.

My job to walk

Through stark

Dawn and provide a Spark—

I feel like

words not

fully known yet

Like Electric—

The lanterns begin—


and it is mine,

This time before Time,

The oil lamps’ companion.

of soot born,

of burn,

Child of sand and sun,--

Here, in this wooden house

I take the gift to us

from Prometheus—

For which he was Punish-

Ed, and made

a slave

starved and chained

Against the Rock face—

And the c old lamps I light.

the shadows hide

my silhouette,

The low fires

By which I write—


that my hand


Hear my song!

Here it is morning.


Our Day shall not be long--

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