“From the Wasteland”

“I can connect nothing with nothing”

These words from section III of T. S. Eliot’s master poem The Wasteland evoke a sense of injustice, helplessness, and desire for more that is impossible in the given circumstances of one’s life. Part river song, part religious sermon, part social status epiphany, “From the Wasteland” takes a micro fragment of this work, and asks the singers to experience that shared injustice, and to raise their voices as both the people desperately seeking respite and the river that represents their perpetuated struggle.

With a haunting, tense section of melisma, the piece opens a glimpse into T. S. Eliot’s not-so-distant worst case scenario—a place where people are overworked, overindulged, and overlooked. The river churns through the singers never quite settling in a key area, often getting from tonal center to tonal center through sliding pitches, reminiscent of the sighs of hopeful masses.

With a strong, unison realization, the ensemble pivots from despair into rage as the text goes from observation to extrapolation. The singers unite in homorhythm, expressing the unfairness given to a “humble people who expect nothing.” This fury crescendos into full blown sermonizing, quoting the Buddha’s Fire Sermon, until it drops off suddenly, leaving only the ever-flowing river.

Despite the rather dramatic tone of the poem, I don’t think of this piece as despairing. I find a great hope in the recognizing that the ensemble goes through—the world is burning, there is great inequity, and yet the river continues. With the sharp drop off after they ask to be “pluckest out” by some higher power, I believe they realize that if things are to change, first we must recognize that it can, and second we must do the plucking ourselves.